Mitchell, Ava and Holiday, Sydney - A Bride for Two Tycoons [The Male Order, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Ava Mitchell; Sydney Holiday

  Her short, gasping breaths turned into heavy pants as Dalton shoved another finger between her ass cheeks.

  “You’re going to be so tight around me, Madeline. It’s going to be so fucking good.”

  She rode his fingers and Garrett’s cock until she felt it rise in her again. Her nipples tightened ever so slightly, and the throbbing in her pussy and her clit grew more intense with Garrett’s every hard stroke up into her and Dalton’s counter finger-fucking that pushed her back onto Garrett’s cock. And Garrett hit her G-spot every time. He was so precise, so skilled, so attuned to her every movement. And Dalton was even more so. They touched her as if they were made specifically to please her, to own her.

  “I’m close,” she gasped. “Oh, God.”

  It gathered between her legs and burst through her, the pleasure making her back, neck, and limbs go limp with its power. She was vaguely aware of her screams, but the sensations swept through her and drowned out her perception of anything else. The last thing she saw was Garrett’s chest rippling, his arms bunching with his strength as he held her hips and ground her against him, helping her ride out her orgasm. His eyes were a gunmetal gray, and they focused on her face as she came above him.

  * * * *

  Dalton pulled his fingers out of Madeline’s ass as she started coming. He needed inside. Now.

  He grabbed the bottle of lube and squirted some all over his dick, then lined up his cock with her puckered anus and pressed against the barrier, relishing in the sensation of the muscles giving way and sucking his cock into her hot body. Fuck, she hugged him so tight, so fully that it was as if her body was begging him to never leave. Or maybe that was just his cock talking because it loved being inside her so goddamn much.

  Dalton looked down at their bodies joining and marveled at how creamy and white her ass was. How luscious. His skin was dark and rough compared to hers, and she was so small that he was terrified of breaking her. But he could barely control himself when he was inside her. All he had to do was look down at the graceful curves of her body, the little indentation at her waist, the bell flare of her hips, and he was a goner, lost in her soft skin, her flowery, spicy scent, in the sounds she made when he fucked her just right.

  He loved it all.

  He pushed in a few more inches, and he felt each and every one of her orgasmic pulses as she came. She squeezed him so hard that his eyes almost crossed, and he almost gave into the urge to fuck her like a rutting beast in heat.

  He groaned and gripped her hips, stilling her so he did not do something stupid—like shove the other five inches of his dick inside her while she was still stretching around him. Her screams and sighs went straight to his head and settled there like an alcohol buzz, making his whole body tingle with his awareness of her and how good she felt.

  Dalton pressed in again, and she tensed. “Shh. I’m going to take care of you, Maddie, I promise. Breathe. Just breathe.”

  “Dalton.” She drew his name out, making him feel like a veritable god among men. And then she pressed her hand over his where it sat on her hip and laced their fingers together, and the vise around his heart squeezed and squeezed until he found it difficult to breathe. “I want all of you, Dalton. No teasing.”

  She unleashed him with those words. The chain that held his snapping, raging beast in check broke, and his deepest, darkest desires burst forth.

  “You shouldn’t have said that,” he growled.

  He grasped her hips and held her still, a male dominating his female, and fucked himself into her until his pubic bone hit her ass cheeks.

  The force of his thrust toppled Madeline over, but Garrett caught her and held her to his chest as Dalton pulled out until their connection almost broke and then shoved himself back in. All thoughts vanished in his mind as he fucked his woman, their woman, and made her theirs with every thrust inside of her, with every slap of his balls against her pussy. She groaned and cried out beneath him as she tilted her ass up ever so slightly, giving him more access, more power.

  She hugged him into her body, squeezing every inch of him as he fucked her. She was so hot for him, so tight, that he was lost to the pleasure she gave him.

  Garrett started countering his thrusts with movements of his own, and she propped herself up with her hands on Garrett’s chest, letting them have their wicked way with her. He loved how uninhibited she was, how much she accepted the pleasure they gave her. He wanted more, though. He wanted her to know she belonged to them, with them. No other man would ever touch her as long as he was with her, and he planned on being with her for a long damn time. Just the merest idea of another man touching her filled him with unbridled savagery, and he used it on her, his strokes so hard that they lifted her ass off of Garrett’s hips.

  She tightened around him before she started wailing her pleasure between them, her ass muscles clenching around his cock as he drove her higher, higher until her whole body thrashed between them. He smiled to himself as he watched her and felt her come. There she was, the real Madeline, the woman who hid behind sensible dresses and sexy heels. This was the woman who hypnotized him, who made him want to worship her body until she knew no one else could ever do better. She was unleashed now, and he reveled in her raw beauty, in the awe-inspiring power of her femininity. She took them both and demanded more even as she quaked around him, between them.

  Only a true woman could give so much without even knowing it. Only Madeline could take the darkest, deepest, most profound depths of himself and give them back to him, transformed, redeemed.

  “Fuck, Dalton, I’m gonna come,” Garrett ground out between clenched teeth.

  Thank God. He was about to lose it, too, but he wanted to feel her one more time. Just one more. He reached out with his senses, his mind. He thrust into her, and she gasped. It was the high-pitched gasp she gave them when they hit a particularly good spot.

  “Oh, God. Dalton, Garrett, I can’t. Not another one.”

  Dalton smiled viciously to himself. “Yes, you can. And you will.”

  He fucked into her again. Again. And again. And then she groaned, low and desperate.

  Ah, sweet victory.

  “Now, Garrett,” he commanded before he came, growling deep in his chest. He gave himself up to the mind-blowing pleasure that rose up from his balls and shot up through his spine. His orgasm raced through him, violent and fierce in its intensity. His muscles gave out, and he wrenched himself out of the hot, clinging vise of her body before he fell on her and crushed her.

  He landed next to them, and he took a moment to breathe, to let his head stop spinning. When he turned his head to look at her, he saw that Madeline was draped over Garrett’s chest, her body limp and languid. Unmoving.

  Shit. He’d been too rough.

  “Madeline?” He brushed the fiery red hair off her damp face and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Madeline. Hey. Wake up.”

  Garrett grasped her shoulders and shook her lightly.

  Her eyebrows knitted together, and her eyelashes fluttered for a moment before they parted and she looked him with her velvety brown eyes.

  “Hmm?” she mumbled.

  “Did—did we hurt you?” God, if he hurt her…

  She shook her head, making her hair fall back in her face. “No. It was wonderful.” She reached out to him, and her fingers wound into his chest hair and pulled, but the pain did not faze him. As long as they had not hurt her, he really could not work up the energy to care about anything else.

  Her eyes fluttered closed, and Garrett pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then rested it back against the picnic blanket.

  “Hot damn,” Garrett said, grinning.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  One…two…three!

  Madeline sucked in her gut, straightened her back, and zipped up her dress, over her pantyhose-covered lower half and up her bare back. The force nearly lifted her off her toes. Bea had promised she’d get the dress taken out a little bit,
but Madeline doubted it. To Bea, the tighter the better.

  Madeline turned side to side in front of her mirror and marveled at the gown’s construction, it’s ability to hold her in without extra skin and flab bulging out or folding over the top of the strapless bodice. Well, that is, except her breasts. Those were pushed up high and round like ripe melons. She couldn’t wait for Dalton and Garrett to see her tits in this dress. Even she wanted to take a bite out of them.

  I guess that’s what twenty-five thousand dollars gets you.

  She had already finished doing her hair and makeup and actually felt pretty impressed with the job she did. Waltzing straight into the cotillion without having to prep there would save her a lot of unnecessary fuss, she figured. Even though her dress didn’t really suit her personal style, at least her hair and face would look normal to her.

  Either way, she looked good. Better than good.

  She looked at the time on her cell phone. Almost seven-thirty. The chauffeur would be there in about five minutes to pick her up. The drivers who worked for Ellis Enterprises prided themselves on punctuality.

  She paced around her apartment and considered putting her heels on, but then thought better of it. She could see her future self cursing her present self for putting them on before she needed to. The stilettos she bought were killer, in that they were knockout hot yet would probably also kill her feet by night’s end. She didn’t even want to begin complaining about the pantyhose, something she swore she’d never wear again as an adult, but Bea had insisted, saying it was more appropriate for an event like the Male Order cotillion.

  A knock at the door stopped her in her tracks. Usually if the driver arrived at a pickup early, they’d wait until the planned time. Perhaps there was some kind of mix-up. She knew the cotillion had made things a little more hectic than usual. Or maybe, Dalton and Garrett had arranged for her to be picked up early so they’d have time for a quickie before the festivities began. She smiled to herself and took a deep breath to will away the flood of heat that always nearly drowned her in lust for her men. She couldn’t be happier than at that moment, even with this blasted dress on, because no matter how it made her feel, she looked fucking incredible. Just as with her men. No matter how crazy they could make her sometimes, she loved them, and with them, life felt fucking incredible.

  “Just one sec. I’ll be right there,” she called to the driver through the door as she grabbed her opulent necklace, heavy with diamonds and sapphires. It took her a second to remember how to close and lock its special clasp, but the second she did she breathed a sigh of relief. Bea had been right, it did feel safest wrapped around her neck. Anybody stupid enough to try to take it would have to pry the necklace from her cold dead hands, and if they succeeded in doing that, then she’d haunt them to their graves.

  Another sharp rap at the door had her hackles up. What was his deal? Technically, she still had a few minutes to get ready. What kind of ill-raised man would rush a lady getting ready for what was essentially a ball and in such a rude manner? She had half a mind to alert Dalton and Garrett about this driver’s rude behavior.

  “Okay, okay! Hold your horses.” Madeline threw the door open and then looked down at her stocking-covered feet. “Damn, I forgot my shoes.”

  She had turned to slip them on when the crown of her head blazed with a sharp pain and bright spots flashed in front of her eyes before she felt her dolled-up self being pushed like a rag doll back into her apartment.

  * * * *

  Madeline’s mind slowly came back to consciousness, and with her awakening came the ignition of every nerve she had in her body, each one screaming with agony. Her whole body ached, and it all seemed to culminate in her head. Was it possible for hair to hurt? She couldn’t move, and yet, she knew she was moving. She realized she must be in a car.

  Madeline opened her eyes, the glare of the setting sun making her wince even more. The musty odor of old vinyl and cigarettes assailed her nostrils, and she coughed, which only increased her pain tenfold.

  “I see you’re finally awake,” a gruff male voice said. “You’re a feisty little one. No wonder my brothers like you so much.”

  Madeline struggled to sit up, but instead could only manage to lift her head. The feeling of the hot vinyl releasing her sweaty face was like having a bandage ripped off. The bodice of her gown squeezed her ribs just a little too tightly. When she’d first tried it on, it squeezed just tight enough to remind her that beauty requires a bit of pain sometimes, but now, tied up in the backseat of a car, she was beginning to doubt that wisdom.

  Why couldn’t this psycho have grabbed me before I put this damn gown on?

  “Who are you?” she managed to squeak out. Delicately trying to clear her throat without making her head radiate in another wave of pain, she tried speaking again. “Dalton and Garrett Ellis are expecting me. They’ll find me, you sick bastard.” She twisted her arms, but her wrists were tightly bound behind her back. She wondered if her fingers had turned purple yet.

  “Oh, I’m counting on it. In about…thirty minutes, I’ll be giving them a call to say they’ll get your pretty ass back after they give me ten million dollars.” The man laughed casually as if he were relaying a humorous anecdote to an old friend. “But that’s just what I’ll make them think. You’re gonna die anyway.”

  Madeline’s stomach did a somersault as tears welled in her eyes. It looked like her fairy tale was coming to an end. No. She stopped.

  Doesn’t the prince, in my case princes, always come to the damsel’s rescue?

  She looked up at the rearview mirror and could see when he looked at her, his eyes a cold, dark black. Something about those eyes seemed familiar, and it sent an ice-cold chill down her spine.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “So you want to make conversation? I don’t see why not.” He turned, revealing more than just his profile and Madeline finally recognized who it was.

  Vincent.

  “So, why am I doing this? Because those two shits you’ve been fucking like a whore owe me and they owe me big time. You know, I’m an Ellis too, but not by name. Just blood. And you’d think that would be enough, better than enough, but no.” He laughed bitterly. “They don’t even know who I am, what I am. And why? Because their father, our father, didn’t want to hurt his precious family. But what about me? Aren’t I family? So I kept my trap shut and let the checks he wrote keep coming in. His hush money. Then, all of a sudden, he decided I needed to earn my keep, make an honest living, become a man, so he put me in charge of a fucking company, one he said would practically run itself. Well, you know what? It didn’t. It’s a fucking failure.”

  The car began swerving, and Madeline trained her attention on the maniacal driver. No longer holding on to the wheel, his hands were instead balled up, smashing the air. Gut-wrenching groans emanated from deep within him that sent chills spiraling up her spine to wrap around her heart. The man was throwing a tantrum, something Madeline had experience dealing with, though usually not from adults. God, she hated a tantrum.

  “Listen, Vincent. You don’t have to do this. Just slow down, okay? This isn’t safe. You’re better than this. I know that.” Her mind raced, searching for something, anything she could say to convince him to stop all this craziness. “You’re a good person, Vincent. Remember that night my car broke down and you stopped and helped me. You even followed me—” Then it all became clear. That was no happy coincidence. If she hadn’t been tied up, she’d slap herself for her stupidity.

  Vincent laughed again. “Are you serious? You didn’t realize until now, until just now that that was set up? Do you know how easy it is to unscrew an oil cap? But thanks to your stupidity, your lovesick lapse in judgment, I knew where you lived. I even knew where you worked.”

  He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, then turned at the waist. He batted his eyelashes. “Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink, ma’am?”

  Panic clawed its way up her body, freez
ing her in place. “The waitress,” she whispered. “That was you?”

  The car started drifting to the side, and Vincent faced the front again. “A little date rape drug never hurt anyone, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her through the mirror.

  Madeline gasped as she realized the lengths Vincent had gone to. She wanted to vomit. But at least he had stayed away from the kids—

  “Oh, God.” She looked at the rearview mirror and studied her captor’s face and saw the same cheekbones and forehead Dalton had. “You were at the center that day Dalton and Garrett brought all the toys.”

  “I was wondering if that little brat saw me. You know, I was always so envious of the Ellises, of all their money, power, women. They could have anything and everything they wanted. But what do they pick? They pick you, a completely naïve twit.” The car slowed to a stop, the crunch of tires on gravel like jackhammers in her brain. The door flung open, the summer heat blasting her, and Vincent reached in and flung her over his shoulder. “But you are pretty.” He ran his hand over her skirt. “And what firm legs you have. Yes, maybe I’ll just fuck you yet.”

  Her stomach roiling with nausea, she grimaced and, for the first time in her life, felt grateful she had on pantyhose. The constricting stockings were never a welcome accessory, and particularly not during a hot Texas summer, but now they provided the protective barrier she needed to keep the bastard’s nasty paws off her.

  “Where are you taking me? What is this place?” She examined her surroundings, trying to get her bearings. For what seemed like miles, wind turbines dotted the landscape, some fully erected but most lay strewn across the ground like massive, bleached-white bones. It made her think of a dinosaur graveyard, a place long abandoned and unfit for human trespassing. A construction crane held a piece of turbine suspended in the air as if work here had suddenly stopped without any prior warning.

  It was eerily quiet except for the sound of wind whipping around her ears and the steady creak of the few turbines that were up as their propeller parts rotated high up in the sky.