by M Never
I just grunt in response, attempting to cuddle up and fall asleep in his arms.
“We’re not through yet,” he informs me as he runs his hands down my sides and grabs both of ass cheeks.
“I told you there was a certain place I wanted to come,” Jett murmurs behind me. His heated skin pressing against my own. “Let me in.” He rubs his still erect cock between my cheeks as Kayne spreads them open.
“Let us both in.” They simultaneously move to enter me. Kayne first, sliding into my pussy easily, while Jett works his way into my already exploited buttonhole. My womb knots like a twisted rope as I’m filled again, my body bowed in the new position.
“Come with us, Ellie.” Kayne threads his fingers in my hair and grabs hold, keeping my face an inch away from his. He licks and bites on my bottom lip as the two of them let loose, fucking me hard, pursuing their own pleasure. “Come on, baby, come.” Kayne thrusts at the same time as Jett and my body locks up.
“No,” I plead. I don’t think I can survive another earth-shattering quake like the one before.
“Yes.”
“I can’t.” I strain as their cocks swell inside me, close to the brink.
“You can, and you will, because we say so.”
“No.” I nearly cry as one of them rubs my clit, adamantly, unforgivingly.
“Yes.” Jett pulls my head back and kisses me, plunging his tongue into my mouth the same way he’s plunging his cock into my ass.
“Come.” My clit is rubbed harder, my nipples are teased and I’m filled to the brim as I dance the darkest rhythm of my life. Then it happens, an orgasm snowballs inside me, growing larger and larger with every strike and stroke and pinch until there’s no stopping it. Until the demands on my body win out and my core catches fire and burns me alive.
I scream into Jett’s mouth as I’m thoroughly fucked. Fucked until I go slack and the two men controlling me come. Come in my bruised, sore, supremely satisfied body.
Holy mother of God.
The last thing I remember is being cocooned in a blanket of warmth, heavy breathing, and soft lingering kisses, right before I pass out cold.
I WAKE UP TO THE sound of laughter echoing faintly through the house and the smell of coffee. I sit up in bed, my aching body protesting as I stretch my arms and legs. I’m still chained to the headboard; there are bruises on my hips and a bite mark on my shoulder. I look like a wreck, but I feel completely blissful. I unbuckle my collar and slink out of bed. Holy shit, I’m sore from tip to tip between my legs. I hobble into the bathroom to brush my teeth then throw on a pair of shorts and a tank top. I’m just at the top of the stairs when Kayne comes bounding up. When my eyes meet his, I suddenly blush, unexpectedly self-conscious.
“Hey.” He cups my face and gives me a kiss.
“Hey,” I respond shyly. Why am I uncomfortable? This is my husband.
“Why are you so red?” he asks curiously.
Because you shared me with your best friend last night and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Or how you feel about it.
I shrug in response. “Do you still love me?” I wonder out loud.
“Ellie?” Kayne is thoroughly amused. “Why would you ask something so ridiculous?”
“Because of last night?”
“You think I’m mad?”
I shrug again, attempting to be cute and, well, tempting.
“Do I sound mad?”
I shake my head.
“Do I look mad?”
I shake my head once more. He actually looks refreshed and very happy.
“Then there’s your answer.”
“Did you enjoy it?” I can’t help but ask. I have to know.
Kayne looks at me impishly. “Let’s just say I was hoping you were still sleeping so I could wake you up with my tongue.” He takes my hand and puts it between his legs so I feel his stiff erection.
“You liked it that much?”
Kayne nods, his eyes on fire. “I think the four of us have turned a corner in our sexual relationship.”
My jaw drops. “Are you being serious? You’d do it again?”
“Again and so much more.”
“More?” I repeat.
“Mmm hmm.” He drops a kiss on my lips. “We can talk about more, later. London and Jett are getting ready to leave. Come say good-bye.” He leads me down the stairs into the kitchen. That same sense of self-consciousness resurfaces when I come face to face with Jett. What the hell is wrong with me?
“Well, Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up,” he comments as he takes a sip of coffee.
I regard him silently as heat creeps up over my cheeks. All I can picture is him naked, tattooed, and pierced. Not good. I need to get a grip.
I grab a coffee mug and pour myself a cup, finally mustering enough nerve to answer him.
“A girl needs her caffeine fix.”
“That’s not the only fix a girl needs.” Jett pokes fun at me. I could smack him.
I roll my eyes in response instead. “And she got it.”
I throw a glance at London, and she winks. Yes, the four of us have a weird dynamic, but it works.
London’s phone chirps on the counter, and she hurries to check it. “Layla is asking for us, again.”
Jett takes one more large gulp of coffee. “That’s our cue.” He and London stand up. Adult swim is over for them.
Jett and London walk around the breakfast bar to say their goodbyes. London breezily kisses me on the cheek, like nothing unusual occurred at all. Like, I didn’t just sleep with her husband last night.
“Watching you with Jett was one of the hottest things I have ever seen,” she whispers in my ear. “And you know I have seen a lot.”
That she has. Probably more than any one person should see in a lifetime.
“Really?” I respond quietly, almost timid.
She nods, her dark-blue eyes sparkling perversely. London is always the picture of perfection outside the bedroom door. But behind it, her multifaceted persona peeks through. Her fiendish, fearless, provocative side.
When Jett hugs me, several emotions stir simultaneously—excitement, embarrassment, and a calming affection. It’s obvious I wasn’t prepared for the impact of last night, although it seems like I’m the only one who’s rattled.
“You know what, Ellie?” Jett speaks softly as he embraces me.
“What?”
“You really do taste like cupcakes,” he whispers in amusement.
I reply with a small gasp. Kayne must be sharing our secrets. He always tells me I taste like cupcakes.
Jett kisses me on the cheek, a firm, wet, sloppy gesture before he takes London by the hand and leaves.
LONDON AND I HAVE ALTERNATED hosting Thanksgiving for the last four years, and this year it’s my turn. The house smells amazing. I made my mother’s sweet potato pie, my grandmother’s stuffing, and cooked a turkey big enough to feed twelve.
“Kayne!” I yell into the living room. “Can you come in here and help me with this monstrosity of a bird you made me buy!” Yes, the turkey was all him. He wanted leftovers . . . for a month. I swear the man eats like a racehorse. I always joke that I need a part-time job just to pay the grocery bill.
“Coming!” He walks into the kitchen holding Layla under his arm like a football.
“Now how are you supposed to help me when your arms are full?” I joke, tapping Layla’s little nose. She giggles.
“Only one arm is full.” He squeezes her and she squeaks. “I still have this one.” He grabs one of the oven mitts off the counter. “If I can bench press you with one hand, I can pull a thirty-pound turkey out the oven.”
I don’t have a second to respond before London swoops in and slips Layla out from under Kayne’s arm. “I’ll take her. We’ll just stand over here and watch.” She steps back behind the island.
“Fair enough.” Kayne grabs the other oven mitt and pulls the turkey from the oven. It looks so perfect I almost squeal. I don
’t know when I became so domestic, but seeing that beautiful brown bird come out of the oven gives me chills.
Kayne carves it and I place it on the set table. Not two seconds after he sits down, Layla is off her chair and climbing onto his lap. London scolds her but she insists, refusing to eat unless she stays put.
“It’s fine,” Kayne smoothes his hand over Layla’s blonde hair. “She can eat wherever she wants.”
Sucker.
“You spoil her,” London scolds him now.
Kayne just shrugs. “My house, my rules.”
I just shake my head, laughing internally. How many times have I heard that?
Everyone begins to make their plates while talking and passing and sampling. This is Becks’ first Thanksgiving, so we all get to experience his first taste of turkey. He doesn’t seem like a fan; he just keeps throwing it on the floor.
Just as we all begin to eat, Jett raises his wine glass. “A toast.”
With the fork a few inches from his mouth, Kayne groans. “Really? Every time?”
I nudge him with my foot under the table, reminding him of his manners. Sometimes he forgets. As much as he looks like a well-groomed adult, he can sometimes act like a surly teenager.
“Go ahead,” I encourage Jett.
“I’ll make this short and sweet.” He glares at Kayne. If there weren’t children at the table, I know what Kayne’s choice response to that look would be. “I just wanted to thank Ellie for this wonderful meal and say I am grateful for all the past holidays we have spent at this table and am looking forward to many more. Cheers.”
“Cheers,” the rest of us respond.
“See? Short.”
“And very sweet,” I add.
Kayne snorts. “Wonderful. Can we eat now?”
“By all means, savage.” Jett facetiously grants permission.
Kayne scoops an oversized forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth then smiles condescendingly at Jett. Boys.
The rest of dinner sails by with an abundance of laughter and energy. Both children, the stars of the show. Layla sings and plays with her food on Kayne’s lap while Becks keeps London busy with smeared mashed potatoes and squished turkey.
“You know what you’re eating?” Kayne asks Layla as she pops her peas into her mouth, one by one.
“A pea!” she enthusiastically answers, holding up the little green ball.
“Nuh-uh.”
“Uh-huh!” She’s adamant.
“Lizard poop,” he tells her.
“Ewww!”
“Kayne!” Jett admonishes. “Do you have any idea how long it took us to get her to eat peas? They’re the only vegetable she’ll eat!”
“Not anymore.” Kayne laughs as Layla pushes her peas around on her plate like they’re contaminated with something.
“Are they really lizard poop, Daddy?”
“No, honey. They come out of the pod, remember? Mommy and I showed you. Uncle Kayne is just teasing.”
“Oh, yeah! I remember!” Her turquoise eyes shine brightly.
I won’t lie and say my heart doesn’t melt seeing Kayne with Layla, watching her happily feed him lizard poop and him happily eating it.
London’s words haven’t stopped ringing in my ears all night. That man needs a child.
Deep down—very far down—I know that she’s right. I know he wants one desperately. I also know my reservations and fears shouldn’t stop us from having a family, but they are.
After dessert is served, the table is cleared, and the children have fallen asleep, London and Jett call it a night. Layla passed out in Kayne’s arms while he and Jett watched football on the couch.
I’ve already started on the dishes when Kayne comes back inside from walking London and Jett out. He wraps his arms around my waist and hugs me affectionately with his chin resting on my shoulder. We stand like that for several minutes as I continually rinse each plate.
“It’s quiet now,” he states.
“What’s quiet?” I ask.
“The house. It’s quiet now with everyone gone.”
I stop and listen. It definitely is.
“Maybe it’s time we fill it up,” I say delicately, drying my hands with a dishtowel. I feel Kayne’s arms tighten before he spins me around.
“Fill it up?”
“Yeah,” I answer coyly. “Maybe it’s time we start a family of our own.” It’s an impulsive decision because that’s how I do things, but it feels like the right one.
My heart beats erratically as Kayne just stands there and stares at me. I think I just shocked him. Actually, I know I did.
“Are you being serious?”
“Yes,” I answer pointedly. “And a lot of things are going to have to change around here if we have a baby. Our lifestyle, namely.”
Kayne grins deviously. “We can cross that bridge when we come to it. Jett and London make it work. We can, too.”
They definitely do. If I have learned anything from the two of them, it’s that you don’t stop being who you are just because you start a family. If anything, you hold on tighter to the person you were, somehow incorporating your old life with your new one.
“How soon can you stop your birth control?” Kayne asks excitedly.
“I’m supposed to go for a shot next month. I can skip it.”
“A month, huh?” I can see the wheels turning. “That gives us time to practice.”
“Practice for what?”
“Making babies.” He grabs my neck and crushes his mouth against mine. The kiss consumes me, stealing my essence right out of me. We kiss and kiss, our tongues tangling as our hands roam all over each other.
“I say we start practicing right now.” He grazes his teeth along my neck then bites my earlobe.
“No time like the present.” I moan as he caresses me between my legs, over the fabric of my jeans.
“Let’s go.” He hauls me off the ground, encouraging me to lock my legs around his waist. I grind on his cock the whole way to our room, expecting him to toss me on the bed, but he apparently has other ideas as he walks us into our playroom.
“Take your clothes off,” he orders as he drops me in front of the swing. My arousal skyrockets. His dominance will always be my undoing. Kayne watches as I pull each piece of clothing off. My white gauzy shirt, my Capri jeans, and boy short underwear. The ones made entirely of hot pink lace. Almost immediately, I’m completely naked while he is still fully dressed.
He sighs appreciatively as he gropes my breasts, teases my nipples, and consumes my mouth, stretching it wide as he forcefully circles his tongue. I can’t help but whimper, knowing full well the assault he’s about to launch on my body.
He lifts me into the harness, two thick nylon straps supporting me, one under my butt the other behind my back. On each of the four straps hanging from the ceiling are wrist and ankle cuffs, which Kayne wastes no time buckling me into. Once tethered, he stalks around me, the spider inspecting his spun-up prey. I see the lust illuminating in his eyes as he runs one finger along the inside of my outstretched thighs.
I have no idea what he’s planning; the only thing I can be sure of is that this isn’t going to be a straight-up fuck. He wants to play. And I’m the toy.
“Comfortable?” He strums my clit.
“I’d be more comfortable with you inside me,” I tell him point blank. I want him to fuck me and fuck me right now. Those soft, light caresses are eliciting a slow burn from the inside out.
“Soon enough.” He walks away, out of sight. Kayne purposely keeps our treasure chest in a corner of the room I can’t see. He likes to surprise me. He likes to be in complete control. And I don’t just mean control of my body. He likes to mess with my mind and trifle with my desire. While I hang here helpless, the room suddenly goes black as Kayne ties a silk blindfold around my head. After he tightens it, he murmurs in my ear, “Beautifully bound, exactly how I like you.” I feel him tickle the diamond heart hanging on my choker. One of his many symbols of ownership o
ver me. Maybe the most significant.
I then feel him nudge something against my entrance. It’s hard and thick and penetrates me fully. With a click, the vibrator hums to life, waking up every single one of my nerve endings. “Oh.” I shudder with need, but the soft buzz only teases me. There’s not nearly enough vibration to bring me close to the edge.
“Hang around, kitten. I’ll be back.” There’s amusement and excitement in Kayne’s voice as I catch the sound of strange clicks in the darkness.
Strapped in the swing, I have no choice but to do as he says while my arousal slowly stifles me like smoke. The light buzz kindling my excitement while suppressing it all at the same time. I fuss helplessly, knowing Kayne will only return when he’s ready. I try to concentrate on the shower running when I begin to smell a spicy blend of cinnamon, vanilla, and nutmeg in the room. I don’t know how long I’m alone, but the wait is excruciating as my need curls around my limbs and weighs me down.
“Miss me, kitten?” Kayne says suddenly.
“Yes,” I answer, wanting.
“Yes, what?” He snaps something against my nipple and I flinch.
“Yes, Kayne.” I grit my teeth.
“Good girl. Just because we are preparing for things to change doesn’t mean they have yet.” He flicks my nipple again with what I think is the towel, and it bites me harder this time. “Yes, Kayne!” My voice pitches from the pain.
“Mmm . . . those word from your lips.” I feel the straps by my hands strain and the weight of my husband against me. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say them. I’ll never get tired of hearing you beg. You will always be mine.” He nips at my bottom lip, but that’s all I get of him. “I’ll never, ever let you go.”
“I don’t ever want you to let me go,” I rasp, feeding off his energy.
“Good.” With that, I feel the first burn against my skin, a fiery line across my lower abdomen. I squeal in surprise. Wax, hot wax. That’s what the spicy smell was, a burning candle. It cools quickly, hardening on my torso. I only have a second of reprieve before I feel it again. This time the fiery trail moves upwards on my stomach, some drips are bigger than others, but they all light my body on fire the same way. I squirm when he covers one of my nipples, the little nub baking under the heat.
