by Cara Adams
Every now and then Omar would flick his flogger over her back or her ass or JB’s shoulders. Soon, she knew he would tell them to stand so he could punish them properly. She was looking forward to that, too. Every bite of the flogger brought her closer and closer to the ultimate joy of release.
Omar was a genius at mixing the sweet and warming sensations, such as these new massage gloves, with the harsher ones, such as the flogger. By juxtaposing the two, the effect of each was amplified, giving twice the pleasure they would bring on their own.
“Give JB the gloves now, Ramona, and lie down,” ordered Omar.
Oh yes, she was ready to be massaged again. Omar had already demonstrated the wonderful sensations of the gloves over her shoulders and back, but she would love to have Javier massage her. Ramona quickly did as instructed and settled herself on the rug, resting her head on her crossed forearms, her eyes shut as Omar had ordered.
The flogger cracked down on her ass, much harder than she was expecting, but with the bite of pain came a wonderful surge of arousal. She was already wet and ready for sex, but each slap of the flogger lifted her desire higher and higher, until she was aching with need.
Javier kneeled in front of her and massaged her shoulders. Why was he there? Why wasn’t he sitting over her hips as she had done with him? He could put some of his weight on the floor. He wasn’t too heavy for her.
Then Omar’s fingers were toying with her ass.
Oh, that’s why. Omar’s preparing me. I wonder which of them will take my ass tonight? Or maybe they’ll double fuck me. I love the feeling of being sandwiched between them. They fill me and stretch me more than I think I can bear, but it’s always the best of orgasms when I come.
JB’s hands moved to tease her sides and the tiny bits of breast he could reach. Ramona gasped at the sensations of the vibrating glove, her breasts heavy with need. She wanted to lift up and offer Javier her breasts, but Omar hadn’t given her permission to do that.
Then Omar’s fingers were in her ass, stretching and pulling her, widening her rosette to allow one of them entry, the oil smelling almost cloyingly sweet with the heat of her body.
A sharp slap on her ass told her she was ready, but Ramona didn’t move. Omar would tell her when and what to do. Would they move into the bedroom or fuck here on the rug? Or perhaps they’d stand up or lean against the wall.
Omar moved away from her and said, “Take off the gloves now, JB.”
For a moment Ramona felt bereft. She was so hot, so needy, so ready to be fucked. She’d had both of them teasing and arousing her. Every nerve ending was alight with desire, craving more, yet suddenly, at this moment, she was totally alone.
Then she understood that’s what Omar was teaching her. The contrast heightened the experience. Just as the spanking heightened the pleasure of the massage, so being alone enhanced the pleasure of being touched. Once again she was in awe of his brilliance as a Dom. Every time they played a scene she learned more about him and also about herself.
“Come, sit on my dick, Ramona.”
At last!
Ramona scrambled to her feet and moved to where Omar was sitting, his legs spread. He hadn’t said whether she was to face him or not. Should she ask or wait to be told? Should she be naughty and invite punishment by going ahead and making her own decisions, perhaps spoiling his perfect plan for the next part of their evening’s entertainment? No, much as she’d enjoy some hard spanking for being disobedient, Omar’s plans were always better than anything she could invent. She’d rather wait to be told. Ramona stood silently, eyes down, and waited for Omar’s instructions.
“Such an obedient little sub. I’ll give you a wonderful orgasm tonight,” he said, gently drawing her closer to him. “Sit with your back to me, my cock in your ass.”
It hurt her muscles to gradually sink down on his cock in that position, but it was a good feeling, and when he pushed past the ring of muscles and slid into her ass as she crouched lower and lower over him, it felt even better. Finally, she was sitting on his lap, his balls pressed tight to her ass.
“Now, JB, slide up against us, put your legs under Ramona’s, and enter her cunt.”
Very soon her thigh muscles wouldn’t be the only ones aching. It wasn’t going to be easy for Javier to get into position. But he slithered closer and closer, rearranging her legs, pushing her a little this way and that until his cock was level with her pussy and he pressed inside her. Suddenly, she was held tight between the men, stuffed full of cock, her insides stretched to capacity, their bodies plastered to hers, one at her front, the other at her back.
“As slowly as you can. I want this to last,” ordered Omar.
Torture! Absolute torture. Her body was screaming for release, yet the men were barely moving, filling her and emptying her so gradually she wanted to scream at them to speed up. Ramona used her internal muscles to grip them both then wiggled her hips, making their cocks touch her walls, although she was held so tightly she couldn’t move much and her tissues were so swollen with need the cocks were firmly inside her.
Finally, Omar allowed JB and himself to stroke inside her faster, deeper, and harder. She gripped Javier’s shoulders and held on tight as the orgasm that had begun deep in her core built and built, finally slamming through her, throwing her off the cliff into a splendid release. Her cunt and ass gripped the men tighter than ever, and both cocks exploded deep inside her, the heat of their semen sending aftershocks running through her.
Limply, Ramona hung between the two men while the last of her release powered through her. She was aware of both men pumping hard, then raggedly, and finally stopping. Omar lifted her off him and moved the three of them so they were in a tight circle. He pulled two boxes from behind his body.
Opening the smaller box, he showed her a beautiful white leather collar. Three narrow strands of leather were braided together, meeting in the lock, which was made of gold and heart shaped.
The second box contained a man’s collar made of black leather, with a decorative sewn border and an engraved D-shaped ring in the center front.
“Will you accept these collars from me in a public ceremony of collaring in the community here? Will you wear them always for me, acknowledging that I’m your Master and you’re my slaves?” he asked.
Ramona gasped. She hadn’t anticipated him asking this of her. After all, they were committed and bonded to each other. Could she wear a collar everywhere she went? To work, to the mall, to visit non-BDSM friends? Would she do that for him? For them? Yes. Yes, she would. Javier and Omar were the most important things in her life. If they’d committed to each other in the ordinary sort of way, she would have a piece of paper and a wedding ring. This was no different, just a sign of their love.
“Yes, Master, I will,” she said firmly.
“Yes, Master, I will, too. There’s no hesitation in my mind. I completely accept your Dominance,” said JB.
Omar smiled, and only then did Ramona realize he’d been worried they’d refuse. How could they refuse? He was the perfect Dom and they both loved him, albeit in quite different ways.
Omar stood up and pulled off the black turtleneck top he was still wearing. She hadn’t even assimilated the fact until right now that they’d fucked with him partially dressed. He tilted his chin high and rotated slowly. Tattooed around his neck were the words “Omar-Ramona-Javier.” They were inked so that they formed a collar around his neck, each word attached to the next with only a hyphen between them, the hyphen after Javier next to the O for Omar.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“If you’re both prepared to wear a collar for me, the least I could do is acknowledge the gift you’ll be giving me,” he replied.
She saw tears glistening in JB’s eyes. “Thank you, Master. My collar and yours are the most precious gifts I’ve ever been given.”
Ramona threw herself into their arms, holding both of them against her. “I love you both so much. I can’t wait for the collaring ceremony.”
&n
bsp; The moment was shattered by a heavy fist pounding on their door. “Omar! Omar! Sam’s shot Leticia!”
“Fuck!” swore Omar.
Ramona continued to hug both her men. “Even Sam can’t take away our happiness.”
Omar pressed a kiss to her forehead. “That’s true. We’ll always have each other and our love. But right now, he’s definitely put an end to our romantic evening. Let me go sort this latest drama out.”
“We’ll all go,” said JB.
THE END
WWW.CARAADAMSROMANCE.BLOGSPOT.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cara Adams adores erotic romance, especially ménage, BDSM, and shape-shifters. One day, someone said to her, “Why don’t you put them all in one book?”
So she did.
For all titles by Cara Adams, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/cara-adams
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
