by Zoey Marcel
“You’ll be my slave and our mate.”
She’d smirked at this. “Maybe when hell freezes.”
“No, darlin’. You’ll become our mate and wash our feet to show your devotion the way Christ did for his disciples just before he gave his life for them.”
Chanel had looked touched and appalled at this as she yanked her hand away. “You blasphemous—”
“I meant it as a symbolic act of love, not sacrilege. Then you’ll suck our cocks until we come hard in your mouth,” he’d vowed, ignoring her embarrassment. “But you won’t just suck us like any of your boy toys. No, sweetheart. You’ll worship our cocks as our slave and your little pussy will be soaked with need—needs that only we can fill.”
Her face had gotten a ruddy hue and he’d turned to see the line of people just staring at him with their mouths open. A couple of them grinning, some of the old ones shocked.
One man had tapped his foot impatiently. “Hey buddy, you done word fucking her already? I’d like to make a deposit in this lifetime.”
Brad had grinned and turned to Chanel with an arrogant murmur before he left. “You might want to go touch yourself in the bathroom as soon as you can to quell the ache. I wouldn’t want you to be hurting all day.”
She’d gasped at this and he’d winked at her before tipping his Stetson and heading out.
Brad sat at the table now and chuckled inside at the memory. He watched Dawson panting and moaning while Chanel suckled his erection until he exploded in her mouth. She licked his cock clean and walked on her knees with the bowl over to Brad, keeping her head down, and washed his bare feet, kissing them.
His heart clenched at Chanel’s tender devotion and he tilted her chin up so he could gaze at her beauty. Neither one said a word as Brad pulled the collar from the box and fastened it around her neck. She looked absolutely stunning in it, but her smile was even more so.
He waited for her to unzip his fly and suck him off like she had his brothers, but she sat there and stared at him. He arched a questioning brow at her inaction, grinning when he saw a mischievous smile creep onto her face. She was being a naughty little tease.
Brad undid his pants and held her stare as he pulled his cock out. He fisted it with one hand and grabbed her by the ponytail with the other, forcing her head down. His legs locked at the rapturous feel of her hot, wet mouth closing in on his swollen penis. He slowly fed her more and she swallowed him hungrily, devouring him with slow but strong sucks.
“I think now is the right time,” Cory told him, nodding at the box on the table.
Brad reached into it and pulled out the small, black velvet box. Like a good slave, Chanel didn’t stop pleasuring her Master’s cock. It wasn’t until he slipped the ring on her finger that she pulled off him and gasped.
“Oh my god, it’s so beautiful! It’s my birthstone, peridot.”
“That’s what it’s called,” Dawson realized. “Cory kept calling it the lesser emerald, but for some reason the jeweler knew what we were talking about.”
“Hey, man, they’re both green,” Cory told him.
Chanel giggled and stared down at the ring’s splendor with obvious excitement. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”
“How grateful are you?” Brad hinted, teasing her lips with his glans.
She laughed and took him in her mouth again until he shot his release down her throat. She tucked him away and he stood and brought her to her feet.
“Hey, I just realized something,” Cory said with a grin. “She’s barefoot and pregnant.”
Chanel shot him a dirty look in jest. “Watch it, mister, or I’ll put cayenne in your dinner.”
He grinned and Brad swatted her fanny.
“Show your Master respect.”
“How did that offend you?” she asked.
“I was talking about Cory,” Brad clarified.
Her jaw dropped. “Cory’s my Master, too?”
Cory came around the table toward her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh yeah, Brad’s fine with all of us being your Masters. I decided I want in, too. Dawson still thinks it’s silly, but he also said he’d never try anal sex and he did with you, so who knows. A little down the road you might be answering to three Masters, baby.”
“God help me,” she teased.
Brad lifted Chanel and set her on the table. “You should get a blanket so she’s comfortable while we pleasure her.”
“I’m on it,” said Cory.
Brad and Dawson eased her onto her back and Chanel splayed her fingers through Dawson’s hair when he gently pressed his lips to her baby bump.
The gesture made Brad feel warm and fuzzy inside. He looked down at their beautiful mate spread on the table like a sexual banquet for their pleasure. The love light shining in her pale green eyes touched his soul.
They’d been raised religious and Dawson had stuck with it for the most part.
Cory sometimes got spiritual and other times ran rampant like the fox he was.
Brad had gotten busy with life and at times found himself leaning toward the agnostic side of things, but when he saw the miracle smiling up at him and the way her eyes held his future, he said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever had sent Chanel to him and his brothers for keeps.
THE END
ZOEYMARCELBOOKS.BLOGSPOT.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Zoey Marcel has wanted to be a writer since she was eight. She lives with her husband, baby and their quirky pug in the Pacific Northwest.
Originally Zoey planned on writing mainstream, but somehow happened across the erotic romance genre and was surprised by how graphic the covers were. Shock became wicked fascination and after reading her first erotic romance book, she decided her mainstream romance should have more adult love scenes and a few taboos.
Her stories range from naughty and touching to dark and erotic. She likes variety in her characters from the sweet, beta or the aggressive alpha all the way to the dark, tortured hero, or antihero who walks on the dark side.
When she’s not writing, Zoey likes to workout, keep house and go places with her husband. Then of course, there is play time with the hyperactive, little dog.
For all titles by Zoey Marcel, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/zoey-marcel
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
