Three Hearts Beat as One (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Karen Mercury

Chase’s words tumbled over one another, they came so fast. “I love it, you goddamned motherfucking bastard!”

  Chase came then. His rectum always clenched around Devin’s erection, massaging an orgasm out of Devin, too. It was nice and mutual this way, although usually Devin was the one pumping Chase’s ejaculation from him, not a woman’s mouth. And sometimes, of course, if Devin was in a dominating mood, he didn’t allow Chase to come at all.

  Lacey was given her due, struggling to swallow Chase’s enormous load. Devin slid his hands around the full scrotum, feeling the cock pulse as it pumped its milk down Lacey’s throat.

  “That’s it,” Devin encouraged. “Fill her with your jism, Chase. Let her taste how delicious your seed is. Give her—” Devin’s own orgasm swept through his groin, and he fell to grunting and moaning his sounds of ecstasy. He hunched over his lover, pumping him full of his seed, eyes squeezed shut. His hand tangled in Lacey’s silky hair. It was such a shock to his senses to feel a woman’s satiny strands at the moment of orgasm, it nearly cut his orgasm short. He was accustomed to Chase’s brushy buzz cut. He now came in short, fast bursts, absorbing the feel of her hair as she bobbed her head back and forth like a pecking chicken. His fingers circled under her chin. She hadn’t been able to gulp all Chase’s seed, and some dribbled down the corner of her mouth, adorably.

  At last Lacey detached and flung herself back on the mattress, limp. “Ah!” she exclaimed, as though she’d just dashed a hundred meters. Like a child, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the men, and she wiggled her butt as if to wedge the plug in there farther.

  Devin didn’t take his eyes from her as he fell back onto his heels on the bed. He leaned back on his fists as his shiny cock slapped up against his abdomen, refusing to go down. Devin was unashamed that Lacey had just watched him fuck another man. She had asked for it, and it had riled her to such great heights she’d fallen upon Chase’s cock like a mountain lion on a squirrel. Jealousy still burned in his heart, but he hoped he’d gained some of her attention by his performance.

  “Oh, my,” she panted. “That was absolutely mind-blowing.”

  Chase, as usual, just stumbled off to the can. Lacey’s statement was directed at Devin, but it begged the question… “What was, exactly?”

  “Oh, the whole thing, of course! You two men are mind-blowing. Whoo! I’ve never been with one such manly stallion before, but two? How’d I get so lucky?”

  Devin looked at a framed Frederic Remington print on the wall. He pretended to absentmindedly stroke his flat abdomen, but he knew he was really drawing attention to it. He needed a compliment, damn it. “Did it come up to your expectations? Watching us fuck?”

  Lacey rolled her eyes, a thrilled expression lighting up her face. “Oh, good God in heaven! I have to admit, I’ve never been so turned on in my life! You two men do that all the time? Whoo! I think I can live with that.”

  Devin frowned. “It turned you on so much you decided to blow Chase.”

  “Of course! Who wouldn’t?” She finally got to her knees and scooted toward Devin. She looked a little coy and seductive now, her upper arms squeezing her full breasts together. “I admit, Devin. I wanted to test you. You seem a little possessive of Chase, and who can blame you? You’re in love with each other. You have a committed relationship and you’re letting a new person into your world. Chase I’m not worried about. But I thought you’d get angrier when I took his penis into my mouth.”

  Well. If that’s the compliment I’m going to get, I’ll take it. “I started getting jealous, but I stopped myself. And I wasn’t just jealous because Chase was getting his dick sucked by someone else. I was jealous that you were sucking someone else’s dick, and not mine.”

  This seemed to please Lacey. “You know, jealousy isn’t always bad. It shows that you actually care about me, no? If you didn’t care and only wanted me for a sex toy, you wouldn’t have been jealous that I sucked on Chase. Anyway. I’m not worried. I’ll get my chance to suck on your beautiful, long, fat tool again soon enough.”

  That was even better, and Devin broke out into a smile.

  Chase exited the master bathroom, proud and unabashed in his birthday suit. “Someone just drove up in a four-door.”

  Lacey gasped. “Katrina! Is it ten?”

  Chase thumbed the cell phone attached to the belt loop of the jeans he picked up. “It’s ten ten.”

  Devin headed to the can, but the last thing he saw was Lacey hooking her bra behind her back, settling her beautiful boobs into their underwires.

  He was falling in love with Lacey Dvorak. This was the last thing Devin wanted.

  But he didn’t want to stop it, even if he could.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Cal said that Ben came by the store.”

  Lacey stared straight ahead. Looking at Katrina would betray her interest, and she wanted to be as blasé as possible when it came to Ben. For the first time since walking out on him, she was beginning to feel she had a handle on her life. It was no longer out of control. She was no longer destined to be addicted to lousy old cheating Ben, helplessly at the whim of his every asshole move.

  “Oh yeah? What did he need—some screws to get his head on straight?” Good one. Lacey chuckled at her ingenuity.

  Katrina did, too. “I don’t know what he was buying, but it was hilarious. The ‘I Heart Brittney’ tattoo is already in the first stages of being erased. He asked Cal why you weren’t at work, where you’d gone.”

  “Did Cal tell him?” Lacey was surprised how little she cared. She was moving into an exciting new phase of her life, and for the first time she was eager to leave old Ben behind.

  “Yeah, he told him you were doing the ranch thing that you won at the auction, and he said something like, ‘Oh, good for her.’ Hey, where are Devin and Chase going?”

  Lacey was surprised that she really enjoyed riding a horse. Despite living in the Sierra foothills, she’d only ridden a horse a few times at the most. Katrina, having had a more prosperous and supportive upbringing, had taken lessons as a teen, so it was no surprise that she was instantly trotting across meadows and even cantering up muddy inclines where cows had wallowed. Lacey, however, was hanging onto her reins with both hands for dear life when her mount decided to charge up a slope. It was exhausting, the nonstop push and pull, the chafing against the damned saddle, and constantly having to stand up in the stirrups. No wonder her two men were so buff. Gym or no gym, this was a heavy workout. And bouncing up and down in the saddle like that made it feel as though the butt plug was permanently embedded in her ass.

  But she liked it—the freedom, the fresh air, being away from exhaust and noise. They had already ridden eight miles from the ranch house, darting between melting snowbanks. Lacey didn’t even mind the smell of cow shit—it was natural. And Katrina didn’t slip and slide nearly as much as Lacey did, so it obviously could be learned.

  “It looks like they’re examining that fence. Devin did say the hands had radioed about some fences that needed repairing.” Devin said that normally the hands would do it themselves, of course, but today they wanted to show the gals how it was done.

  “Lace.” Katrina held a hand out for Lacey to stop her horse. Katrina was a good enough rider that she could control the reins with only one hand.

  Lacey managed to stop her horse from forward egress, but that didn’t prevent it from trying to rear on its hind legs. “What?” I will get used to this. I will get used to this. Lacey didn’t want Devin and Chase to see how laughable she was on horseback.

  Katrina looked sly. “So what’s the lowdown with you and the studs of Hell’s Delight? First they outbid everyone—and you claimed they did it only for charity—but this morning you came from the bedroom side of the house with your hair all messed. Weren’t you supposed to be sleeping in that other smaller cabin where I put my bag?”

  Lacey knew she was going to have to talk about her new fling sooner or later. The problem
was, she was so filled with mistrust of men, she doubted this new ménage would last long enough to discuss with anyone. And it would mortify her worse than anything, and perhaps send her into a tailspin, to have citizens pitying her that her first foray post-Ben had ended in failure. “Oh, it’s nothing, really,” she said lightly. “We just sort of fooled around a little that once. This morning.”

  Katrina lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “And gave you three hickeys?”

  “Oh, please, Katrina, we’re not in high school,” said Lacey, feeling her neck. Did she really have hickeys? “All right,” she admitted, all in a whoosh. “We’re…a thing, I guess.”

  Katrina’s jaw was slung low. “But…but…aren’t they gay?”

  Lacey had to giggle at that. “Apparently not. Katrina, they weren’t just bidding on me to be nice charitable guys. Although I’m sure my sobbing about how only a Folsom inmate would bid on me tugged at Devin’s heartstrings. No, they were really looking for a third woman to fill their ménage, and they decided on me, apparently.”

  “They bought you? They’re switch hitters? So now you’re their slave? Oh, kinky! Do tell!”

  Lacey rolled her eyes. “If that was the case I obviously wouldn’t tell you, Katrina! But of course that’s not the case—that would be illegal.”

  “So what’s their end game? Just a massive, wild threesome?”

  Lacey frowned. She really didn’t know herself. What had Devin said when he’d given her the ring? This ring is to symbolically cement our relationship. “I don’t know, really, to be honest. For now I think it’s the best thing for me. To help cleanse me of Ben’s cheating, lying influence.”

  “Oh, you said it, sister! I couldn’t agree more. But…do they come as a team, as a package deal?”

  Lacey narrowed her eyes at the woman who had been her partner in crime for twenty-five years. They had played with dolls, gone cardboard sliding, not inhaled marijuana, stolen food together. But this would take things to a whole new level. “What exactly are you implying?”

  Katrina nudged her elbow in Lacey’s direction. “You know. I mean, do they want a fourth?”

  “Ew, Katrina!” cried Lacey. “Hell, it’s difficult enough me getting over being in the same bed with two men at the same time. I certainly don’t want to see your boobs jiggling around!”

  Katrina looked aghast. “That’s not what I meant! Ew! No, I meant, are they willing to break off into couples?” She looked idealistically at the sky. “Marco’s getting kind of tiresome. The other day I had a yeast infection and Marco wanted to—”

  “Oh, please, Katrina! No. Just no. In the first place, you’re still with Marco.” Lacey shuddered to have to say his name. “In the second place, why would I want to give up one of my men? Who knows how long it’ll last. I’ll be lucky to have a week with them before they decide—well, that they prefer just being a couple. Who knows, really, Katrina. I have no idea why they’d even pretend to want fat, dumpy, divorced me. I just want to savor this thing while it lasts, you know?”

  Katrina put out a calming hand. “I know, Lace. I was just kidding…mostly. You’ve got to admit. They probably are the two most strapping hunks in a two-hundred-mile radius of Hell’s Delight. It doesn’t really matter how you scored, just that you did.”

  The women whipped their heads to view Chase up on the hill by the fence. He was hollering at them through a cupped hand, and Devin was galloping downhill toward them. If Devin’s manliness set Lacey on fire before, the sight of him gallantly zigzagging down the slope at full tilt was enough to make her spontaneously combust. Yes, he wore the cowboy hat she had imagined in her dreams, and rather large spurs he said were a holdover from the days when Spaniards ruled the cattle ranches. Going one beyond her wildest dreams, Devin had clothed his beautiful, muscular thighs in chaps, which he’d explained were pronounced “shaps,” short for chaparrejos. These protective and sexy leg coverings were to protect the legs from the endless chaparral, in the foothills consisting mostly of sharp manzanita bushes.

  She had already learned so much today—spurs were called “chihuahuas” in the Old West—but she’d learned the most about Devin himself. He galloped up so romantically like that, his handsomely frowning face shaded by the Stetson’s brim. His nicely-packed crotch rode between the worn leather of the chaps, and the swell in Lacey’s chest nearly overwhelmed her. Am I falling in love with this man? Lacey tried to quickly think back on when she’d first met Ben. Were there similarities? It felt the same, yet different…

  “Katrina!” yelled Devin before reaching them. “Chase wants you up there. Wants to show you something about a trap.”

  “Oh,” said Lacey, “the coyote trap? I want to see, too!”

  Devin cast her a look that she didn’t immediately interpret. “Chase thought Katrina would be interested in it.”

  Katrina had to explain to the obtuse Lacey. “Because I work at the county clerk’s office, more than likely.” Expertly spurring her mount, Katrina charged up the hill, leaving Lacey gaping at the horse’s swishing tail.

  “Why would her working at the county clerk’s—”

  “Come with me,” said Devin, already riding toward a stand of pine trees.

  Lacey managed to get her horse to follow, and their hooves crushed beds of fallen pine needles. Lacey’s nostrils bloomed with their scent, and she began to be intrigued by this odd mission Devin led her on. Occasionally he’d look back across his shoulder and grin at her, but her horse doggedly followed his through this mystical grove of pines.

  The brightness emanating from the far side of the grove told her that it let out onto a valley of some kind. She’d lived in Hell’s Delight all her life but wasn’t familiar with these hidden, concealed valleys miles from any paved road. It must all be part of Hardscrabble Ranch. When they emerged from the cover of the trees nearly onto a rocky promontory, Devin dismounted manfully. He tied his mount to a pine then came to assist Lacey.

  She didn’t want him to see how awkward she was in dismounting. But the cowboy boots were brand new and stiff as cement, and she nearly twisted an ankle in the stirrup. She didn’t want him to see her frustration for fear it would scare him off. Devin wouldn’t want any wife who was averse to horses! Then she giggled at how silly she was to already be thinking the words “Devin” and “wife” in the same sentence.

  “I wanted to show you,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her on a grassy path through the enormous boulders. She even stumbled on a couple of small rocks because her soles were so stiff, and she was beginning to despair of ever being a suitable mate for Devin.

  All her doubts evaporated when they circled round a giant slab and the valley floor below was revealed to her. It was like one of those Garden of Eden paintings complete with shafts of radiant sun lighting up the scene—the grazing cattle like little toys from so far away, the gnarled oaks like fluffy trees one could pick up and move around. A dazzling creek even crawled through the valley floor, and Lacey caught Devin’s arm.

  “Your cows,” she surmised.

  She had never seen Devin look prouder. “Yep,” he said, already taking on more of a western twang. “Some of them,” he corrected. “We’ve got another herd closer to the hacienda where we can demonstrate you some roping skills.”

  Emotion clouded his eyes now. He didn’t seem to be thinking about cows anymore as he steered her toward the nearly vertical quartz-veined boulder that had shielded the valley from her. Pressing her against the sun-warmed rock, he urgently kissed her, as though they only had a few minutes. “Lacey,” he whispered between soft, wet kisses, “bringing you into our lives was the best decision we’ve ever made.” He took her lower lip between his teeth and bit gently. Leaning his hips into her, he clasped her by the ribcage, hands supporting her tits.

  Lacey found that if she squirmed her lower back against the granite slab, the pressure of Devin’s hips would lift her. Now the toes of her boots barely grazed the ground. “I’m glad you made that decision,” she whispe
red against his mouth.

  Without much formality, as though they were schoolchildren grappling in the playground, Devin yanked up her jean miniskirt and slid a hand down the front of her cotton leggings. Lacey discovered if she hooked the toes of one boot into the back of Devin’s calf-high cowboy boot, she could easily give him access to her pussy. And that was his intent.

  His talented fingers found her bulging clitoris in a fraction of a second. At least two fingertips flicked back and forth against its engorged length. His rope-roughened fingertips against her slick clit made her jump, as though she would have some kind of odd, electrical, premature orgasm just from a few of his strokes.

  She held his jaw in her hand. “You don’t need to—”

  “I need to,” he murmured. His lips clamped down over hers as if to shut her up, and his free hand snaked up her ribcage under her sweater. Lacey felt lush, shapely, feminine beyond belief with this muscular stud rubbing up against her. She knew her tits were large—men had sometimes assumed she’d had a tit job—and pronounced, jutting proudly. But she had never felt so womanly as when Devin released one of them from the stricture of the bra cup, causing it to poke out even more proudly, and ran his thumb over the nipple.

  Because Lacey had worn the nipple clamps for so long, his touch was like nails on a blackboard. Lacey felt Devin smile against her mouth when she practically scrambled up the face of the boulder backwards, like a panic-stricken cat. “Oh!” she cried—almost a screech.

  His hand diddled her clitoris, driving her up the rock wall. He would not relent. His thumb against her dented nipple eased up a bit, but his humping against her hip held her up above him against the rock, so high up their mouths met at an equal height. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Relax. Let me bring you off. Your nipples are sensitive from the clamps and your clit is swollen from your ass being filled with the plug. But it feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “Too…much…” Lacey gasped.

  It had occurred to her that he was planning to finish off what Chase had been unable to do with his fingers. Poor Chase—he was just unused to fiddling with women. It wasn’t his fault. There was a vast difference between jacking a man and fingering a woman, bottom line.