Enlightened [Sexual Magic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Jennifer August

  “Bullshit on vandals, Griff.” Mason stalked toward the door. “Let’s go get her.”

  * * * *

  She and Joel were waiting on the couch, snuggled under a blanket and sipping wine as a chick flick blared from the TV. Even though Griff knew Joel was strictly a man’s man, the sight of him so comfortably ensconced in her place bugged the hell out of him.

  “Relax, cowboy,” Joel murmured as Mason swept Emma into a bone-crushing hug. “She’s been on pins and needles waiting for you to get here. I can’t give her what she needs, but you two can. And are, from the conversations we’ve had.”

  Griff acknowledged the not-so-subtle dig and inclined his head. “Point taken.”

  Joel hugged Emma, murmured something in her ear that had her blushing furiously, then gave both him and Mason an effusive embrace.

  “Have fun, darling,” he said as he sailed out the door.

  Griff propped his hands on his hips and quirked his brow at her. “What did he say?”

  Her blush deepened. “Nothing.” She scuffed the carpet with her bare toe, didn’t meet his gaze.

  “Ah, little one, it seems a refresher course is in order.” Mason smacked her butt, and she jumped, one hand protectively covering her ass cheek.

  “I agree,” Griff said. He saw the haunted look in her eyes and figured it had to do with her car. “I think a few days at our place is in order.”

  “A few days? I can’t be off work that long,” she protested.

  “Don’t you have any vacation time?” Mason asked.

  “Well, yeah, actually.” She brightened. “I haven’t taken any real time off in a long while. Not since last year, I think.”

  “Good. Call your boss and get it all arranged for the rest of the week, and then we’ll pack a bag and go to the house.”

  “Will Joel take care of your cat, or does she need to come with us?”

  Emma squinched her mouth in an adorable moue. “I’d like to bring her, if you don’t mind.”

  “That’s fine,” Griff replied. “I like cats. Now, go call.”

  He kept his face averted from Mason’s sharp gaze. Without a doubt, his excitement rivaled that of a kid with a brand-new X-box. It seemed something he could do little about, either.

  Emma was getting under his skin, and he was very much afraid all his talk about letting her go and allowing fate and the Goddess to have their way was a bunch of crap.

  “Yes, Peter, I know it’s short notice, and I’m sorry about that, but Gail and Lucy can handle my work. I only have two jobs outstanding this week, and they’re mostly done.”

  * * * *

  Mason listened shamelessly as Emma gave her boss the news. Apparently the man wasn’t taking it well. Her face grew weary and mutinous at the same time.

  “Peter, it’s been almost a year since I’ve had any time off. I really need this. A lot has happened lately, and I need the downtime, especially with the busy season coming up.”

  She plucked at a magnet on the fridge, snapped it off and on with a loud click. Her frown deepened, and he was half-afraid the man on the other end would deny her the leave.

  “Lucy called in sick? Last night? That’s weird.” Her eyes widened, and she mouthed “Oh, crap,” to him. Mason raised a brow in question, but she shook her head.

  “Well, I just mean weird because she’s never sick. Yes, I’m sure she’ll be in tomorrow, too. Okay, Peter, thanks, I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

  Her deviltry-filled gaze flicked over to him, and she winked. “Oh, yes, Sir, I definitely plan to enjoy myself.”

  She giggled as she disconnected.

  “Saucy girl.”

  “I prefer determined.”

  Mason pulled her into his arms, stroked his hands along her lean back, and absorbed her silkiness. She smelled good, too, like coconut-soaked rain. The scent was sweet and clean and just a bit mystical.

  “Do you have any idea how much I’m looking forward to fucking you again, Emma?”

  Her shiver wracked them both, and he gritted his jaw against the surge of lust. Damn, she was a hot one.

  “I see that you do,” he replied. Mason kissed the top of her head and set her back. “What was that ‘oh, crap’ about, anyway?”

  She rolled her eyes as she replaced the cordless phone in its cradle. “I almost ruined it for Lucy. Remember I ran into her last night at the steak place? Her blind date must have gone really well ’cause she’s not at work today.” Emma trailed her hand down his chest. “Now, let’s get my stuff and go. I’m anxious to see what comes next.”

  He caught her fingers and stopped her flight. “Did you call the police about your tires?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think you should?”

  She shivered, and unease snaked through both of them. Mason tried to shut down the connection, but found he couldn’t.

  “Looks like Emma’s not the only one angling for a little punishment,” Griff said from the doorway.

  Mason managed a wry smile.

  “Wait, what?” Emma leaned away from him. “I thought you were a Dom.”

  He tapped her nose. “You don’t listen so well, then. Remember that first day when we told you I was a switch?”

  “You’ll have to forgive me,” she said dryly. “I was just a wee bit overwhelmed by the two of you. Paying attention was not high on the list.”

  “A good subbie always pays attention to her Masters,” Griff noted.

  “I am beginning to see that.” She bit her lip and looked hesitantly from one to the other.

  “Out with it,” Griff said.

  “I’m just wondering, aside from the physical, what else I should be on the lookout for. What else I should be doing and learning in order to become a good sub.”

  Her face went as scarlet as a cardinal’s breast.

  Mason hugged her again. “We’ll discuss that, too. Promise. Now, are you sure we don’t need the cops for your car?”

  “I’m sure. Besides, whatever evidence was on it is gone, don’t you think?”

  He grimaced because he knew she was right. As soon as the tow truck started manhandling the Mustang, whatever physical evidence that might have existed was contaminated. By now, it was outright destroyed. Not that cops spent all that much time and energy on this kind of thing.

  Especially when they were hell-bent on catching the Snapshot Killer.

  “Emma, take us to your bedroom so we can go through your drawers.” Griff tugged on her hair. “I want to paw through your panties.”

  Chapter Eight

  Unease continued to wrack Griff. He wasn’t buying the whole vandals aspect any more than Mason was. Hell, for once he wished his partner still had ins at the cop shop so he could get some intel, but he knew that wouldn’t happen. That damn blue line ran too deep.

  Maybe Ryan, though…

  The bathroom door opened on a billow of steam, and he pushed away from the wall. Emma stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall and stared at him. She clutched a towel to her still-damp hair, another wrapped around her middle.

  His cock stirred at the luscious vision of her large breasts so prominently displayed. He’d liked the breast bondage Mason used on her earlier and had plans of his own for torturing her sensitive nipples.

  “Seriously? I can’t even go to the bathroom alone?” Her words, though clipped, were threaded with humor.

  Griff cleared his throat. “What, a guy can’t stand in his own hall?”

  She shook her head, slinging droplets of water in his direction as she passed by and ducked into the bedroom. “Sure, if that’s your thing.”

  He cupped her shoulders from behind and nuzzled her neck. “Hm, I like this thing, better.”

  She purred and shivered, tilted her head and offered him full access. “Bite me,” she whispered. “Just a little.”

  He circled her throat, thumb pressed to her jumping pulse. “Vampire fantasies?”

  “No,” she murmured. “I just want to feel your teeth, the pr
essure, the…bite, if you will. A new experience.”

  Griff lowered his head and nipped at her shoulder. Light, feather touches designed to tease her. She writhed, and he sensed her impatience. Without warning, he opened his mouth and sank his teeth into her soft skin. She inhaled sharply and stiffened, back bowing.

  Griff held her firm, increased the pressure of his teeth. Not enough to draw blood, but he definitely used enough force to mark her.

  A wild desire rushed through him. He wanted to mark her, to claim her.

  Oh, fuck.

  He lifted his mouth and stared with satisfaction at the already-purpling of her skin. He traced the slick bruise with one finger. “Did you like that?”

  “Yes,” she said and turned in his arms. “But I like kissing you much better.”

  He gathered her close and slanted his mouth to hers, devouring her. He nibbled at her full bottom lip, brushed along the trembling surface. Griff cradled her head between his palms and flitted light touches over her mouth, nipped at her velvet softness, teased the pucker of her lips.

  His name whispered from her, and she tugged him closer, opening her mouth and darting her tongue to flick along his.

  Griff suckled her tongue, drawing her into his mouth, and then rimmed her lower lip. She groaned into his mouth and inched closer. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and he swept his palms along her still-damp, sleek back. The towel loosened and fell to her waist.

  She tasted minty and fresh, and her mouth was a haven of sweet joy.

  Finally he broke away, both heart and breathing labored. Emma smiled serenely back at him, green eyes glittering with passion.

  She stroked the V of his collared shirt, tugging lightly to scrape a fingernail over his chest. “Griff?”

  He quirked his brow.

  “I loved what we did last time. Well, most of it,” she added hastily. “I think we should ramp it up a bit, this time. I want to try other stuff now. Harder stuff.”

  His cock jerked in his pants. “You obviously have something in mind.”

  Despite her bravado, a blush tinged her cheeks. “I want to try the hook this time. And to be flogged. Hard. Maybe even caned.”

  He whistled. “Sounds pretty hardcore, Emma. You’ve only been stroked with polyester and the crop. I’m not sure if you’re ready for the bigger floggers. And you are definitely not ready to be caned.”

  Her pretty face crumpled, and then she took a deep breath that thrust her tits out. He was sure the position was a deliberate ploy to sway him.

  “Please? I want to try. I trust you to know if it’s too much for me.”

  Griff scowled and raked a hand through his hair. “That’s a setback comment, Emma. You have to be able to articulate to your future Master what is too much.”

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you if I want you to stop. Like I did with the TENS unit. But I won’t say my safe word.”

  Griff wrangled with himself for a moment. He was itching to really lay into her with the flogger, but he didn’t want her hurt either. He snorted at the irony of the situation. What kind of Dom didn’t want to hurt his sub?

  The temporary kind.

  “No,” he said. “It’s all or nothing. You don’t get to make the rules or compromises, here.”

  She bowed her head and murmured an apology, the action so natural it stole his breath.

  He was in deep trouble. He could feel it.

  “I’ll use the floggers of my choice, and you’ll be lashed to the St. Andrew’s Cross so you can’t move.”

  Her head snapped up, and her swallow was loud in the room. “Yes, Sir.”

  His dick twitched again.

  “Let’s go get Mason,” he said and spun on his heel.

  “Right here, Griff.” Mason lounged in the doorway, hands propped on his lean hips. “What’s up?”

  “She wants to take it up a notch.” Griff grinned. “Or several. Gloves-off time, Mace. Emma, come here.”

  She crossed the room and stood in front of him, damp hair curling wildly as it dried. He ripped the towel from her body. “No more clothes while you’re in this house. It’s time you remember your role.” He pushed his face close to hers. “You are our slut. Our fuck holes to take whenever and however we wish. Your tits will be available and thrust out when we command. When you’re not being fucked or servicing one of us, you’re to be on your knees in slave position. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied with no hesitation.

  The excitement boiling through her spilled out into his conscience, and he took it, morphed it, added his own, and blasted it back to the two of them. Emma stumbled and swayed.

  Mason grunted. “You like the idea of that, slut? Being always at our command? Ours to use and abuse?”

  She nodded.

  Griff whipped his fingers hard over her nipples. “Master Mason asked you a question.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said on a gasp. “It’s what I want.”

  “To be used?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Abused?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Griff took hold of her nipples and lifted until she rose on tiptoe. “That’s a good little slut. Let’s go see if we can break you.”

  He let go, and her tits slapped loudly back to her chest. He grabbed her wrist and headed down the hallway, hauling her with him.

  “Mason, take care of getting the cross ready.” With a shove, he pushed open the play room door and flung her to the center of the room.

  He stared at her. “On your knees, spread your cunt and play with yourself, but do not come.”

  She sank gracefully down onto the padded carpet. Her gaze never left his as she placed her fingers along her knees and slowly spread her legs. Though her direct look was bold, she nibbled her bottom lip, and her head bowed ever so slightly toward the floor. The sweet aroma of her arousal wafted up to him. He shucked his clothes, tossing them aside, and stepped in front of her. With his foot, he tapped her right hand and nudged her fingers upward, toward her apex. “Start playing with that cunt, slut.”

  Her beautiful green eyes hazed over with lust, falling to half-mast. She cupped her slit then stroked upward, fingertips sliding along her slick lips. With a strangled moan, she tapped at her clit.

  Still using his foot, Griff nudged her other hand. “Use that one, too. Fuck yourself for me.”

  Emma’s body twitched. “Yes, Sir.” She spread the dripping lips of her bare pussy with her other hand and wiggled one finger inside her hole. Immediately she arched.

  Mason, also naked, appeared next to him. “It’s ready. Put two fingers in your pussy.”

  Her gaze bounced to his face, and she wiggled on the carpet but obediently slid another finger into her snatch. Her sigh was deep and pleasure filled. Griff wondered if she’d even make three strokes before coming. As much as he was looking forward to whipping her, he hoped not.

  “Faster, slut. Get that pussy wet and sloppy with your juices.”

  “Widen your fingers,” Mason inserted. “Stretch yourself as you pull your fingers out.”

  Emma complied, her breathing growing ragged as her hands sped up.

  “You want to come, don’t you, slut?” Griff asked, stalking in front of her. He cupped his hardening dick and stroked it slowly. He straddled her spread thighs and bent so the head of his cock was at her face level and slapped her lightly with it.

  She moaned. “Yes, Sir, I want to come.”

  “No. Three fingers.”

  She gasped and stilled. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back then started slapping her tits. “Mason, bring the clover clamps. That’s two more strokes you’ve just added. Three fingers, now.”

  Passion and excitement spread over her face followed by a wince as she eased a third finger into her pussy. She grunted as the second knuckle passed through her tight hole. Griff’s cock tightened in response. He leaned back, still thumping her nipples, and looked.

  “God, that’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Your pus
sy lips are stretched and glistening deep red. I love how your fingers are being swallowed by your hot, grasping hole. How do you feel?”

  “Full, Sir,” she murmured.

  “Good. Start stroking.”

  She nodded and slowly pulled her wet fingers out to the tips then slid them back in. Her eyelids fluttered, and she again bit her lip. “Feels good,” she said.

  Mason appeared at his side, clover clamps dangling.

  Griff grabbed them and slipped the metal over her ripe and hot nipples then tugged lightly. She swayed and looked down.

  He grabbed the chain dangling between her beautiful big tits and lifted upward. “The beauty of these clamps, little slut, is the more you move, the tighter they get.”

  He pulled a bit harder. “On your feet. Time to get whipped.”

  She pulled her hand from her pussy with a juicy slurp that made his cock even harder than before. Emma rose unsteadily, cheeks flushed a delightful pink that journeyed down her throat and all the way to her tits.

  “Nice,” Griff murmured then smacked her on the ass. “Let’s go.”

  The wooden cross took up a large portion of the corner where it stood. Made of thick pine and stained a dark mahogany, the tops jutted toward the ceiling with ominous power, the size and scale intended to intimidate the sub about to be strapped to it. Wide vinyl bands were attached to the uprights, both at hand and foot level.

  They’d installed an optional waist belt for the exceptionally squirmy, but Griff wanted every inch of Emma’s beautiful body available to take the kiss of his leather.

  “Hands up,” he said.

  She looked at the cross with trepidation before a fine tremor wracked her. Goose bumps rose all over her body, and he grinned. “Nervous?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said on a whisper.

  “Good. Safe word?”

  “Journal.”

  Griff nodded and slapped the wood. The sharp retort echoed in the room. She jumped and moved forward.

  “Arms up.”

  She stretched both toward the ceiling. Mason grabbed one and strapped her in, while Griff took care of the other. Then he splayed his palm at the small of her back, fingers dipping into the furrow of her sweet ass, and pressed her pelvis into the wooden cross. “Get nice and tight up against the wood, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re going to need the support.”