Avenging Angel [Tales from the Lyon's Den 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Covington

  Then Clint took hold of her arms and eased her back from Ramón. Marcia looked into that man’s gaze and saw his hunger right there in his eyes, as if she was a meal he’d been starving to consume. Her trembles changed and became the shivers of arousal.

  Clint led her over to the middle of the living room.

  “Strip, now, and don’t bother to fold your clothes.”

  She didn’t know how she managed to obey him. Her fingers nearly forgot how to lift and open and shed. But she did. In the last moment, she had the presence of mind, as well as the willpower, to drop to her knees and get herself into the position she knew they expected of her as their submissive.

  Marcia wanted them both so damn badly she thought she might scream if someone didn’t fuck her in the next minute.

  “Thank you, Marcia.” Ramón lifted her head, stroked his thumb over her cheek, and then looked over at Clint.

  “We know what you need,” Clint repeated. He’d sat down on the lone armchair in the room, directly across from the love seat. “Come here and lay yourself across my knees.”

  Marcia began to move before her brain processed the command. They’d both said that they knew what she needed. Apparently, her body did as well. Her nipples pebbled, and her pussy moistened as she laid herself over Clint’s lap.

  Each successive spank heated her body, made her pussy wetter, and her emotions sing. This was what she needed, this grounding, this reinforcement of their relationship. Clint had commanded her to count, and by the time the count reached twenty, she felt calmer and ready for whatever else her Doms asked of her or wanted to give her. Her bottom stung, but not badly.

  “You’ve made me hot, Marcia. Watching you surrender so sweetly to Clint, seeing, almost feeling, the way that spanking took you over, gave you peace…”

  Clint smoothed his hand over the heat of her bottom, a heat that felt wonderful and seemed to seep right into her. Then he lifted her and set her on his lap. His kiss owned her, swirling deep within her, melding her emotions with her arousal, clearing her vision, touching her heart.

  He stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth, just a little, ready to do whatever he asked of her.

  “Ramón needs your mouth on his cock, darlin’. And I need to taste your cream.” Clint lifted her from his lap, setting her on her feet. Then he turned her to face Ramón.

  Her Dom stood in front of the love seat. Marcia’s gaze went straight to his crotch and the erection he didn’t bother to hide.

  “Open my pants. Take out my cock. Then I’ll sit, and you’ll suck me, mouth only, hands and knees on the floor.”

  The trembles had gone, and in their place, she acknowledged an eagerness to do everything—anything—they demanded of her.

  On her knees before him, she opened his pants. Careful not to catch him on the zipper, she fisted his cock, exposing it to the air. It stood hard and proud and the sight of it, the scent of it made her mouth water. A tiny clear pearl emerged, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

  Ramón sat, and Marcia wasted no time, placing her hands on the floor, and moving closer to him. He held his cock, rubbed it across her lips, and when she opened for him, he placed it on her tongue.

  The heat of him, the flavor and the presence of this part of him in her mouth flooded her body with joy, both physical and emotional. How could she describe that this—being connected and offering this pleasure to him—lifted her and gave her a sense of security she hadn’t dared believe in?

  She focused all she was on using her tongue and her mouth to please Ramón. The brush of a masculine hand on her inner thighs and she opened her legs wider but kept up the slide of her lips, the glide of her tongue and the suctioning of her mouth.

  Ramón’s fingers combed through her hair, fisting the strands. His palms cupped her head, and she felt blessedly captured, gloriously controlled.

  The stroke of a tongue against her slit, the nestling of masculine lips between her lower feminine ones sent a shiver of pure sexual greed coursing through her. Clint hummed against her wet folds, and her groan of arousal played against Ramón’s cock.

  “You have the greatest mouth.” His slightly trembling tone, as much as his words, filled her with joy. She needed to give and give and give.

  Marcia lost herself in the presence of her Doms as she gave and took. Her mouth on Ramón’s cock and Clint’s mouth on her pussy sandwiched her nicely. Their heat surrounded her, their essences permeated her, and their control anchored her.

  Arousal shimmered and grew, racing through her blood, hitching her breath. She suckled harder, as if drawing on one Dom would bring relief from the other. She recognized the impending eruption in the heating and hardening even more of Ramón’s cock. Then and there she wanted nothing more than to drink him down, to give and receive this, to relish this connection.

  The first wave of her orgasm swamped her as the first stream of Ramón’s ejaculation hit her throat. She swallowed even as her womb convulsed, and all thought, all care was banished. There was only this, the heat and the ecstasy. There were only these men and their care of her.

  Ramón eased his cock out of her mouth, and she laid her head on his thigh. Then she felt Clint move. He lifted her into his arms.

  “Act two will take place in the bedroom.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Marcia snuggled into Clint. As he carried her, she looked to Ramón, who followed them.

  “We’re glad to hear that.” Ramón met her gaze. “Because after I have your cunt, Clint’s going to take your ass.”

  The words should have worried her, but all Marcia felt was eager for them both to take her, in whichever way they wanted to.

  Chapter 16

  Ramón headed straight to the bed once they entered the bedroom. With one yank, he had the blanket and top sheet out of the way. Clint laid Marcia down in the center of the clean white sheet then stepped back. Her gaze roamed from him to Ramón. She didn’t want to miss a moment of their performance.

  She knew that, in times to come, they’d command her to undress them. Perhaps they’d even do a sexy striptease for her.

  But right then and there, they were simply dropping their clothes as fast as they could, getting naked—for her. It didn’t surprise her that Clint’s cock stood erect. Of the three of them, he alone had not had an orgasm. But Ramón was hard again, too, and she didn’t think it was because she hadn’t satisfied him. His grin told her he knew where her thoughts had gone.

  “That’s right, mi ángel. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you.”

  Marcia didn’t need a mirror to know her smile was wide and beaming happiness to them both. They had changed this act of physical intimacy for her, made it something new and wonderful and necessary.

  “I feel the same way. I’ll never get enough of you—of either of you.” Then, without another word, she simply lifted her arms.

  Ramón became a jungle cat, his muscles rippling as he came onto the bed. Moving on hands and knees, he stalked his prey. His gaze burned hot, and Marcia shivered. This was more than lust. This was her Dom, and he was about to claim her for his own in the most elemental of ways. He licked her thighs as he prowled higher then took a few long, luscious licks of her pussy. Just that fast her arousal, already burning, soared higher still. Unable to prevent herself, she lifted her hips and whimpered.

  “Do you know what it does to me, to know you want me that badly?” He didn’t expect an answer.

  A foil packet hit the bed beside her hip. Her gaze flicked up to Clint. He’d already donned his own condom, and while he held her gaze, he opened the lube.

  Ramón nipped her leg, making her yelp.

  “Eyes on me.” He nodded at the condom. “Put that on me.”

  Marcia grabbed the packet, opening it even as she sat up. Then she had the latex out and thoroughly enjoyed the action of placing the prophylactic on his cock. The sensation of a hot cock in her hand was fast becoming one of her favorite things.

&nb
sp; Ramón gently pushed on her shoulder. Obeying his non-verbal command, she lay back and spread her legs.

  He moved up between her splayed thighs and then hooked her legs on his arms. She was wide open to him but felt no discomfort. Then he lifted her hips slightly, leaned in, and thrust his cock inside of her.

  So good. Having her Dom inside her body felt so damn good. Their gazes locked, and he began to move inside her. Each thrust, deliberate and deep, jiggled her breasts. Each withdrawal, solid and slow, made her whimper for his return. Over and over he fucked her, his gaze as hot as his body, and that heat warmed her to her soul.

  “Will you let me plunder?”

  She’d seen the need rise in him, a nearly primitive need that made his entire body shake. The force of his desire for her was one of the most glorious gifts she’d ever received.

  “I’m yours. It’s what I need, too. Take me, Sir.”

  Here was passion. Here was intimacy. This man lost himself in her, and she took him, and the force of his pounding, because this was him and her, and everything that had been before this man, every time before, had been rendered powerless.

  She would never forget, but she would no longer be held ransom to the past.

  Now the bed shook, and each thrust hit deep, touched a point deep inside of her that was erotic pain and fierce pleasure combined. She felt the increased heat, the increased girth, and knew he was close. And when he slammed his mouth onto hers, when he released her legs and grabbed the top of her head, her climax exploded out of her. Each of her convulsions met each of his own pulses of ejaculation. She felt bound to him, bound in a way that was fuller and complete than anything she’d ever known.

  Ramón collapsed on her for just a moment—a sweet, heart-melting moment. Marcia wrapped her legs around him and stroked his back. Cradling him, protecting him. Loving him, though she couldn’t yet say the words.

  He lifted his head, grinned, and kissed her in a very brief and unsatisfactory manner. “Hold on.” He rolled, reversing their positions, lifted her slightly so his cock came out of her, and then wrapped his arms around her, returning that loving, secure moment right back to her.

  “Ass in the air for me, subbie.”

  Clint’s Texas drawl had thickened. Marcia’s body got itself into position. Then she looked over her shoulder and took in the sight of her Dom fisting his cock, rubbing up and down, spreading the lube. He raised both eyebrows twice in rapid succession, and it was all Marcia could do not to laugh out loud.

  “Face Ramón, darlin’. He’s going to keep an eye on you. I have the feeling you wouldn’t ask me to stop even if you needed me to.”

  These men knew her better than anyone ever had. “Yes, Clint.” She didn’t even think of trying to argue his point.

  Ramón moved slightly then laid her head on his chest. She was facing to the right and could see him in her peripheral vision. She knew he’d be able to know if Clint’s possession became too difficult for her to take.

  “You have got such a beautiful, sexy ass.”

  Clint caressed both globes, his touch possessive. When he squeezed, she could still feel the remnant heat from his spanking. For all of the good that spanking had done for her, it wasn’t anything like the one they’d given her at the club. That one had stung and needed aftercare. This one just reminded her of their determination to give her what she needed.

  “Just a light pink,” Clint said. She wondered if he could read her mind. “Just the way I like it.” Then he put his fingers between her cheeks, and she felt the coolness of the lube. He used a lot of it, and when his fingers penetrated—first one, then a second—there was a bit of stretching and just the mildest burn.

  “Where are you, Marcia?”

  “Green, Sir.”

  “Excellent.” He moved his fingers in and out and then in a circular motion, stretching her even more. When his hand left her, her heart gave a little kick because she knew it was time. Then she felt the pressure of his latex-covered cock. She felt him move, centering himself against her rosette.

  His hands spread her cheeks as he began to press against her. Here, now, was a burning that both hurt and enticed. She felt her pelvic floor muscles contract, as if there was a cock in her pussy that needed a caress. And she wondered, just a fast, stray, thought, how it would feel having both of their cocks inside her at the same time.

  Ramón’s cock rested between their bodies, but she felt it begin to harden as Clint pressed harder. Her anus opened, and he pushed his cockhead into her.

  “Marcia?”

  “Still green, Sir.” The burn had morphed completely to pain, but erotic pain had a different echo and a different pathway. Every erotic nerve in her body tingled.

  “Ramón?”

  “She just gave me a little gift of her nectar, so I’d say she’s good.”

  Clint moved in and out slowly, and with each thrust, she heard him suck air through his teeth. His hands gripped her ass hard, and because they did, she felt his hands tremble with his restraint.

  She wanted to give him what she’d given Ramón. She pressed back, letting him know she could take more. She didn’t have to wonder long if he got her message.

  “Watch her.” Clint moved faster, deeper, and the heat and the length of him both seemed to increase. Tiny nerve endings she hadn’t known existed flared to life around her anus, and her clit began to vibrate as if the friction was there, instead of in her ass.

  Clint rammed in hard, shouted, and held himself still and deep with her. That final thrust, that heat, that yell, lit a fuse she’d thought already burned out. Ecstasy burst over her, a shivering, quivering orgasm that made her pussy clench and her nipples tighten. Wave after amazing wave of sensation consumed her, showing her that each orgasm had the potential to outdo the last.

  Marcia collapsed onto the heat and security of Ramón, with the imprint of Clint’s chest on her back and the very real knowledge that inside her grew a love worth everything.

  * * * *

  Clint presented his plan to his regional commander and had hoped to hear from the man within a few days. He understood the command structure of the DPS and knew that some actions—especially those that might go outside his own geographical area—would have to be approved by the Deputy Director, himself.

  So it was with some surprise he found himself on the way to Brandy, Texas, with another trooper assigned to assist him the very same day. He called Mac on the way, first to check on how Consuela was doing and, second, to give them both a heads-up that there might be some FaceTime in their futures.

  Clint felt confident they’d find the house. That confidence soared as they entered the small town, passing what clearly was a locally owned gas station with a canopy—CJ’s Gas & Go. It was daylight, so there was no way to know whether or not there were a lot of missing lights. Just from first look, however, Clint thought it likely.

  Consuela wasn’t certain how long she’d been in the water when she’d drifted past the station, and yes, looking out the window, he could see the river clearly enough. He supposed that if they knew exactly how long, and the speed of the water flow, they could calculate the distance from the station to where she’d fallen in.

  But they didn’t have time for that today.

  Trooper Eddie Brooks was in plain clothes and drove his own car, because Clint wanted to keep this recon mission discreet. If anyone asked, they were an advanced team scouting movie locations. It seemed a plausible enough cover.

  The road they were heading south on had left the state road about a mile back and would rejoin it at the other end of town.

  “Where do you want me to go, Sarge?”

  “Let’s head to the last cross street at the south end of town and see what we can see.”

  Until they came to the point of actually taking pictures, Clint felt it best they stay in the car and drive slowly. Brandy was a small town, and most of the buildings had more than a few years on them. Not a bustling center by any means, the town could serve as a t
ribute to another time when kids were born and raised and stayed, either working area farms or getting jobs in the few businesses found along the main street. Now, of course, most of the younger generation left small towns behind for the lure of big cities. He’d bet there weren’t very many “newcomers” hereabouts.

  The third street they drove down had definite possibilities. There were a couple of houses that featured small front porches. Consuela said she’d run left off the front porch and hit the river. She thought she floated south, but in fact, this small tributary flowed east and then turned south about a mile past Mac’s place, eventually joining the San Antonio River, draining into the Gulf.

  The house they wanted faced east and would have one cross street to the left before a field.

  There were four streets containing houses that faced east and had a cross street to the left. But only two of them had just one cross street before the river. The other two had three.

  “Pull over for a minute, please, Eddie.”

  “Sure, Sarge.”

  There was a house with a “For Sale” sign two doors up from the house Clint had his eye on. “Stay here.”

  He got out and made a show of looking at the house with the sign. He looked from one end of the street and then the other. He had his cell phone out, of course, and it appeared as if he was taking pictures of the house with the sign, but of course, he wasn’t. He got back in the car and directed Eddie to head toward the river.

  There he got out and surveyed the field—mostly scrub grass and rocks—that separated the end of the street from the water. There were plenty of tire tracks in the grass, but he’d bet there were guys who’d drive as close as they could to the water, just to fish.

  From where he stood, it seemed the river had a good current to it. And, from the edge of the water, looking down river, he could just make out the gas station they’d passed. The lay of the land was deceptive. He only knew the direction of the river flow and the direction of the main road because he’d looked them up on a map. Otherwise it would be easy to get turned around—especially for a young woman, terrorized, trying to escape her captors in the dark of night.