by Abby Blake
A Bride for Eight Brothers 3
Wild Fascination
A woman from Peter's past is back to stir up trouble, so Ryan and Ty take their wife to Earth for a quick holiday. When Mikayla learns of the legal action against Peter, she insists on standing beside her man. Trouble is, that's exactly where Peter's ex-fiancée wants her.
Meanwhile, Lachlan, Brock, John, Matt, and Bryce are setting up the research base on a new, uninhabited planet. But there's something strange about this place, and it only gets worse when Mikayla arrives. Can they identify the source of the problem before their fascination becomes a danger to the woman they all love?
NOTE! You are reading Siren's newest serialized imprint, the LoveXtreme Forever Series. This is Book 3 of 6 in the A Bride for Eight Brothers collection. These books are not stand alone. Each is a continuation of the previous book and must be read in the numbered order. Each book may end on a cliffhanger but usually with a happy-for-now for the heroine and one or more men. The final book contains a happily forever after for the heroine and all her men.
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Science Fiction
Length: 24,459 words
WILD FASCINATION
A Bride for Eight Brothers 3
Abby Blake
LOVEXTREME FOREVER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: LoveXtreme Forever
WILD FASCINATION
Copyright © 2011 by Abby Blake
E-book ISBN: 1-61034-342-5
First E-book Publication: April 2011
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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DEDICATION
For Alexandra
WILD FASCINATION
A Bride for Eight Brothers 3
ABBY BLAKE
Copyright © 2011
Chapter One
“Where the hell is he?” Mikayla asked angrily.
Brock had no idea where Lachlan was, and it was starting to piss him off. Mikayla wriggled her ass as much as she could considering she was tied down, and then growled in frustration.
When she had detailed her plan, Brock had obliged, mainly because he couldn’t bear to see his wife upset. But now he had his sub facedown over Lachlan’s spanking bench, her legs tied open, her ass and pussy just waiting to be spanked and fucked, and all he could do was sit here and wait for Lachlan to show his face. Shit! What was it they said about the best laid plans?
“Maybe you should go and look for him?” Mikayla suggested hopefully. He gave his woman an incredulous look that she probably didn’t see. No. Fucking. Way. He had never left a sub unattended when she was tied down. There was no way he would start with his wife. The fact that she was laid out ready for Lachlan to whip her ass made Brock feel just a little bit insane. All this effort for Lachlan and the guy probably wouldn’t even show up.
Brock sat beside Mikayla caressing her spine in long, sweeping strokes. She moaned quietly and mentioned Lachlan’s name again.
Damn.
“Quiet, sub,” he said, trying to hide his irritation. He wasn’t jealous. He loved sharing his wife with his brothers, she was perfect for them, but it was starting to irritate him that Mikayla was trying so hard to get Lachlan’s attention. For weeks now she’d been goading him, teasing him, taunting him and generally being an all out pain in the ass just to get him to spank her. Brock had even been quite impressed by Lachlan’s refusal to be manipulated by their bratty sub until he’d noticed the man’s lack of interest in everything else as well.
Lachlan hadn’t been himself since learning of Mikayla’s miscarriage, and even though Brock shared his disappointment, Lachlan seemed to be taking it to extremes. It was obvious that something more was going on in Lachlan’s head, but Brock was certain his eldest brother would work it out in his own good time.
“Let me up,” Mikayla demanded.
“No,” Brock said in the most commanding voice he could muster.
“Brock, damn it, let me up so I can go find him.” One hundred percent pure irritation slid into his mind. She was his sub and wife as much as she was Lachlan’s, and unlike Lachlan, Brock didn’t let his subs top from the bottom.
He moved around to stand in front of Mikayla. She lifted her head and looked him straight in the eye, and every dominant tendency roared to the surface.
“Eyes down, sub,” he growled. She looked startled but quickly did as he said. He’d given her a lot of leeway since her pregnancy and miscarriage, but that was over. Either she was his sub or she wasn’t, but he wouldn’t let her pretend. He caressed the top of her head as she rested it on the spanking bench. She’d been tied this way for longer than he usually liked, but he needed to get a few things understood between them before he removed her bonds.
“Are you using your safe word, Mikayla?” She tried to lift her head again, but he held her still by her hair.
“No, S–Sir,” she said in a trembling voice. He worried a
t her tone but continued to hold her immobile.
“Do you remember your safe word, sub?”
“Yes, Brock,” she said in a stronger voice. Feeling a little more confident that he wasn’t frightening her with his abrupt change in demeanor, Brock caressed her hair once more, allowing her to move her head slightly as she stretched to a more comfortable position.
“Tell me your safe word, Mikayla.”
“Chipmunk, Sir.” He smiled at his naughty sub, glad that she couldn’t see his loss of control. The woman certainly knew how to push his buttons. She’d changed her safe word from red to chipmunk at the same time his brothers had been calling him by every animal name on this stupid icy rock of a planet. Just his luck he’d break a leg when the only medical help available was his smart-ass younger brothers who were veterinarians, not doctors. He couldn’t wait to move on to their next contract. Two more weeks to finalize their data and forward the reports and recommendations, and they could pack up and get the hell off this fucked-up planet.
“No, sub,” he said, feeling the need to correct Mikayla’s bratty behavior, “your safe word is red. Is that understood?” He’d indulged her too long, and it was time to move back toward normal. And besides, being manipulated by his sub was not something he was ever willing to accept. Mikayla knew what he expected, had known since their very first time together, and he needed to get back to the relationship that made them both happy.
“Yes, Master,” she said in a very submissive voice. His cock grew thicker with just those two soft words. She usually called him by his name, but when things between them started getting really intense, the word seemed to pop out of its own volition. Brock hoped this was her way of signaling that she understood his need.
“Good girl,” he said as he caressed her neck and shoulders softly. “I’m going to undo your bonds. You can stretch and move your arms and legs, but I want you to stay lying facedown.”
“Yes, Master.” His cock twitched, pressing painfully against the zipper in his jeans.
He moved quickly, releasing her arms and legs and massaging the muscles to make certain that the blood was flowing properly. She moaned quietly as he released the straps just above her knees and helped her to move her legs. Brock caressed her inner thighs, pleased to feel her slick juices coating the skin.
“Baby girl,” he said in a rough voice, “I need you.”
* * * *
Mikayla swallowed hard. Brock was more intense than she’d ever seen him, and a small sliver of fear tickled down her spine. She knew he wouldn’t ever hurt her—well, maybe a little of the good kind of hurt—but he took his responsibility to his sub very seriously and made every effort to be certain he never injured her. Just remembering some of the orgasms he’d coaxed from her made that small fear morph quickly into arousal and then overflow into desperate need.
He needed her? But, oh, how she needed him, too.
Brock had always been the most demanding of her husbands but also the most loving. After every session, he held her and pampered her, and always made her feel like she was the center of his universe.
She tried to stifle her moan as he lifted her from the spanking bench and draped her over his shoulder so that all the blood ran to her head. A moment later he placed her against the wall and tightened all of the straps into place. The last one went around her waist and she shivered in anticipation knowing that Brock only used that restraint when he expected the session to be long and intense.
He stood behind her, his warm hand caressing her ass. “Are you comfortable, sub?”
“Yes, Master,” she replied, trying to hide the warble in her voice. She could already feel her pussy pulsing in anticipation. Her cream slid down her thighs, the tangy smell of her arousal filling the room.
“Count for me, sub. Twenty to warm up.”
The leather flogger caressed the skin on her ass, gliding slowly over her flesh. He lifted it away and bought it down against her, the delicious sting already playing havoc with her thought processes.
“One,” she finally remembered to say. A second followed quickly, and she bit back the demand for more. Brock would gag her, no hesitation, if she started making demands now. At this moment, he was her Master, and she needed to curtail her impulses. The fact that she hated the O-ring he used as a gag was deterrent enough to stay quiet, for now.
Her ass and thighs were starting to heat as his lashes took on more force. She counted automatically, barely aware of the numbers coming from her mouth, her concentration turning inward as desire flooded her veins. She shook as the final slap of the flogger grazed her pussy. Her knees gave out, her weight falling against the brace around her middle.
Brock caressed her tender flesh with his warm, work-roughened hand for a moment before moving into her line of sight. “Are you comfortable, sub?” She was buzzing with adrenaline, shaking with arousal, and about to have an incredible orgasm, and he wanted to know if she was comfortable? Seriously?
“Yes, Master,” she managed to get out when she finally remembered how to talk.
“I have a new toy,” he said, caressing her jaw with his fingers. “I believe you’re ready to try it, sub.” She nodded even knowing that he wasn’t asking her permission. If she wanted him to stop, she just had to use her safe word, but she was so close to orgasm the last thing she wanted was for him to stop. She heard him rummage around in one of the closets, and then he was back, standing behind her, caressing her bottom for a moment.
“You have a beautiful ass, sub. I love seeing it this color. Count them for me. We’ll start with ten.”
She stayed very still. Not knowing what Brock held in his hand was disconcerting. Last time he’d done this, she’d been introduced to a thick strip of leather. Brock had left a beautiful row of stripes on her ass and given her the most incredible of orgasms, but she hadn’t been able to sit comfortably for several days.
She had a feeling that whatever he had now was going to be even more intense.
Whatever it was hit her ass with such force that she grunted in pain. He rubbed over the spot slowly with his hand, obviously admiring the reddened skin. She closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to escape. Her ass had begun to throb just from one blow, and he expected her to take ten for starters? Her safe word was on her lips but the number one came out instead.
The second blow hit her other cheek, and she sucked in a breath at the painful sensation. She squirmed against the wall, her body trying to protect her even when her mind begged for more. “Two,” she said, trying not to clench her cheeks in anticipation of the next blow.
The third and fourth came quickly, the fifth even harder, and then the pain morphed into more. Her orgasm started as the sixth blow landed. She was barely aware of Brock counting the rest for her as every nerve ending buzzed, and her brain shut down to anything but the incredible sensations spiraling through her.
She barely registered the removal of her bonds but fell into Brock’s embrace before she could hit the ground. He swung her into his arms, carried her back to the spanking bench, placed her facedown, and entered her pussy in one long, hard thrust.
She squeaked as her second orgasm burst. Brock grabbed her hips, pressed her against the bench, ground her clit against the soft leather, and pounded into her harder and harder and harder. Gasping, squirming, begging, Mikayla took everything he had to give and wanted more.
She felt him swell, her pussy lips convulsing around his hard length, and then he pushed deeper into her, holding her down as he filled her with his seed. For long moments he just held her there, breathing hard against her back, his cock twitching inside her.
* * * *
Shit. What had he done? The woman had suffered a miscarriage only a few months ago.
He’d been so desperate for her that he’d forgotten and nearly lost control. Nearly. It had taken every ounce of strength he’d had left to undo her bonds and move her to a more comfortable position before he fucked her like a wild thing. He’d been so close to
cramming his cock into her back passage and taking her against the wall that he shook a little with the realization. Fucking her ass without lube or preparation likely would’ve been very painful for her and possibly resulted in injury. He wasn’t pleased with his train of thought.
He lifted away from her, acknowledging that in his desperate need to claim her he’d probably pressed a little too hard against her back as well. God, he hoped she’d forgive him. He lifted her into his arms, cradling her high against his chest as he studied her face. Tears streaked her skin, her eyes red and watery, but she gave him a contented sigh and practically purred as she nestled in his arms.
God, he loved this woman.
He placed her gently on the bed and then went to run a cool bath. Her ass would likely be very sore for a few hours, and he intended to make sure he cared for his sub properly.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he turned to leave. He turned back wanting to be certain why she was thanking him. After all, he had promised the ten hits with the paddle were for starters. Maybe she was thanking him for not following through on that. Judging by the small hiss of pain as he’d lowered her to the bed, Brock suspected that ten was about all she could take.
When he raised an eyebrow, she smiled and explained.
“Thank you for treating me like you used to. Everyone has been tiptoeing around me since the miscarriage, and it feels really lovely to be treated like I’m not about to shatter into a million little pieces.”
