Summer Temptation: A Summertime MFMM Romance (Summer Lovin' Book 3)

by Lana Hartley

  That’s the word.

  Bask.

  That’s exactly what I’m doing, thinking about what my surrender to a dominant man like Michael feels like.

  It awakens something primal in me, and I think there are parts of my body that will still be tingling through eternity. I didn’t know that it could fulfill me so much.

  Who knew how much I enjoyed being a submissive? I didn’t—especially since I had no idea what that term even meant a week ago.

  Michael made sure I learned, though.

  I look around the limo for something to drink to parch my thirst. Stressing over the unknown always makes me thirsty.

  Richard’s limo driver came to pick me up without barely a word to me. He just told me that Richard was waiting on me for our week. The anticipation of what the week might hold for me makes me wet, a shiver running down my spine at the half-formed thoughts teasing me.

  If I thought I was wet before, my pussy gets practically soaked just thinking back to the time I spent down in the sex dungeon being told what to do by Michael. That wasn’t the only place he took charge, however. Actually, I can’t think of a moment this past week when Michael wasn’t in charge.

  I thought I would hate that. When Michael’s week first began, I honestly thought I would hate every moment of it and count the minutes until the week was over.

  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  There was a strange freedom that came with being ordered to do each and every thing. Having every moment of my day decided by someone else freed my mind up to go wild. And boy did it. I had some steamy fantasies while dusting.

  Even crazier, Michael seemed to know every time I was having a naughty thought. Having him call me on it and demand to tell him in detail what I was thinking turned me on more than I ever thought possible.

  After looking in two different cabinets, I finally find the chilled bottled water in the compartment just to the left of my seat. I twist open the bottle and gulp the cool liquid, thinking back to how my pussy throbbed in pleasure all week.

  It felt like I was always on the edge of an orgasm, but Michael didn’t allow me to find sweet release—without major punishment, of course. Having your most sensitive parts constantly tingly and humming is a heady experience indeed.

  My days with Michael were structured and I loved it. As much as I loved being ordered around and having every moment planned for me, I loved serving Michael even more.

  It sounds crazy, I know…but it was deeply satisfying.

  I watch the view out the darkened windows turn from shop-lined streets to the rural road that runs along the coast. We’re heading for the large estates full of the hoity-toity of Verona Falls.

  I don’t expect a man to open the door for me or carry my bags for me. While I’m still discovering what I want in a man, what turns me on, this week taught me that I like serving my man.

  I like delivering a scotch neat—not on the rocks—to him on my knees.

  I like not eating my dinner so I can make sure he has everything he needs while he eats, to make sure his wine glass is continuously filled, to make sure I can run to the kitchen for another napkin if he drops his.

  Seeing him gain pleasure from me serving him gives me a pleasure I never knew existed before.

  Which makes it even more confusing that I had an equally pleasurable week of pampering at Daniel’s place. The memories of my week spent being doted on by Daniel is still fresh even two weeks after the fact. Daniel is a night-and-day difference from Michael, and yet it was equally as enjoyable and satisfying.

  All of this introspection leads me to one conclusion—if this week with Richard is equally as enjoyable, I have no idea who I’ll choose at the end of the summer.

  Or what to expect from this week with Richard.

  Will he be pampering like Daniel? Or domineering like Michael? Judging by the interactions Richard and I have had so far, I’d say it’s more likely for him to want to dominate me like Michael did.

  But I’ve learned that you can’t judge someone’s sexual proclivities by how they act in social situations. Maybe Richard needs a break from always being in charge.

  Whatever the week holds for me, though, I’ll try to be open to the experience because if my experiences with Michael and Daniel taught me anything it’s that pleasure can come in the most unconventional ways.

  The black limousine comes to a stop. I try to get a look at the house looming in front of me, but before I get a chance to soak it in, the door opens.

  “Miss,” the middle-aged driver says, stretching his arm out to help me out of the limo. He’s dressed like a typical limo driver, complete with the black suit and driver’s cap. “We’ve arrived at your destination.”

  “Oh, it’s so big,” I say, staring up at the overwhelming view in front of me. A huge imposing brick building stands before me. Based on sheer size alone, I’d call this a mansion, or a manor. It’s the kind of place that probably has a name, like Gracie Manor or The Biltmore House.

  I walk away from the limo parked in the wide circular drive and head for the door. The driver steps in front of me to open the door for me. As he waves me in he stays in the doorframe and says, “Wait here. Mr. Jacey will be with you shortly.”

  I turn to thank him, but he’s already gone. Might as well explore the space a little, at least until Richard finds me and orders me to do something, based on his demanding demeanor every other time we’ve interacted.

  My footsteps click and echo as I walk across the tile floor of the foyer. It’s quiet—eerily quiet—as I walk from the sitting room to the…parlor? It seems the more money you have the more redundant rooms you have.

  I’m just about to give up the search for Richard when I glance a room coming up on the right that’s just up my alley. Even before I enter, I can see that the walls are covered in books.

  The room instantly conjures up images of an English lord standing by a roaring fireplace. Between its warm wood tables and comfy leather chairs, this room would be right at home on the Wuthering Heights estate.

  I walk over to a wall of books and run my hands along the spines, trying to reconcile the warm, inviting atmosphere of the study with Richard’s imposing, harsh personality. The books range from philosophical tomes to recent bestselling thrillers.

  Grabbing a book from the shelf, I walk around the room, taking in the delicate, alluring scent of a smoking pipe. It definitely feels like this room belongs in another era, another century.

  Running my hand along the supple leather, I come around to the armchair and let myself sink down into it. The buttery-soft leather seems to surround me like a soft blanket. I might not know what this week has in store for me, but while I wait to find out, I at least have a soft place to rest my ass.

  For all I know, Richard might have big plans for my ass this week.

  17

  Richard

  From my vantage point in the doorframe, I’m able to really soak in the beauty of Grace. Her eyes heavy, she’s about to fall asleep and so she doesn’t notice me standing here.

  I purposely kept Grace waiting for a while. Sure, I had work to finish up, but I could have scheduled her arrival later after I was done working. No, this way allowed me to observe her and see what she does faced with an empty house.

  Faced with uncertainty. And what does she do? She finds a way to entertain herself. Granted, she chose a thoroughly innocent way to entertain herself. But she’s still innocent herself, isn’t she? Sure, she’s had a week with each of the other guys, but it’s not enough to really educate her on the full range of sexual experiences.

  That’s where I come in. My week with her promises to be full of new experiences for her, in and out of the bedroom.

  With her eyelids heavy with sleep, I can’t be mesmerized by her wide, innocent eyes. I’m able to appreciate the curve of her hips as she’s curled up in the chair. Or how her lips are full and pink.

  But I’ve noticed that before when those luscious lips were wrapped a
round my dick. The thought of it starts to harden me and propels me into the room and toward her.

  I gently sit on the coffee table in front of her so as not to wake her. I reach my hand up and brush an errant dark tendril away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She stirs but doesn’t wake up.

  In one fell swoop, I gather her in my arms and sit down in the leather armchair, settling her on my lap. She doesn’t wake. Instead, she seems to settle in to an even deeper slumber. The book that she grabbed from my shelf and had been reading begins to drop from her lap drop and heads for the floor.

  The sound of the book hitting the wood floor causes her eyes to flutter open. She nestles closer to me, tilting her chin up and practically offering those pouty lips to me.

  How am I supposed to resist?

  Her mouth meets mine and I feel her open up to me. She moans into my mouth as our lips and tongues meet and mingle.

  “Mmmm, am I dreaming?” She says languidly into my mouth.

  “Yes,” I whisper back. “And you know what they say about dreams, right?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “You can do anything you want in a dream.”

  I see her smile slightly, and then her hand comes up and settles around my neck. I take it as an indication to continue with our kiss, capturing her mouth once more so I can taste her sweetness, her innocence.

  Dear God, the sheer thought of how much she doesn’t know about sex still makes me hard as a rock. The thought of being the one to give her that experience my carrying her upstairs to my bedroom and ramming my cock into her over and over again is enough to cause all twelve inches of my dick to strain against my pants, practically begging me to be unleashed from the confines of the fabric.

  It’s like my dick is doing everything in its power to get closer and closer to Grace’s pussy. And I can’t say I blame it. That’s exactly what I want, too.

  “What is it you want to do?” I ask, stroking her cheek. “Do you want to suck my cock?”

  Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me with her huge orbs of deep blue innocence. She’s in that sultry state between awake and asleep, where it feels like you’re floating and heavy as a rock all at once.

  “Oh yes,” she whispers. “I could do that.”

  She slides off my lap and down to her knees I front of me.

  “Is that what you want me to do, sir?”

  Sir? Where’d this “sir” come from. Oh, that’s right. She just came from a week at Michael’s. I’ve heard about him and his proclivities.

  “No need to call me sir,” I say, stroking her head. “Having you take my cock into your mouth and suck me dry is all the obedience I need.”

  She reaches up and starts to undo my belt.

  “That,” she says, “I can do.”

  With my belt undone, she unzips my pants. Before she unleashes my cock, I tell her to look at me. I want to see her eyes when she gets a look at my twelve inches of meat. She’s seen it before, hell she’s had it in her mouth before, but I want to see if the size still surprises her.

  When my dick springs out in front of her, her eyes grow to the size of saucers and she lets out an audible “Oh.” Either she’s still surprised, or she’s a damn fine actress.

  Either way, my dick throbs in appreciation of her performance.

  Grace wraps her hand around my shaft and slowly pumps her way up and down.

  “Spit into your hand so there’s some lubrication,” I tell her. I like instructing her, but what I like is how she eagerly laps up my instruction like a hungry, eager student and I’m her stern professor, ready to spank her if she gets out of line.

  She leans in to take me in her mouth and I catch her face in my hands. Tilting her head up so we’re eye to eye, I ask, “tell me you want my cock in your mouth. You want this, right?”

  As much as I want to feel my cock enveloped in the wet warmth of her mouth, I want to know that she wants it too.

  “Oh, yes,” she purrs. “I want this very much.”

  She flicks her tongue on the head of my cock, licking up the pre-cum that has oozed out, while staring up at me with her wide, blue eyes. Fuck, those eyes are enough to get all the blood rushing to my dick.

  “I want to feel your hard cock in my mouth, to feel your cum all over me.”

  “Don’t you worry, darlin’. You’re going to be covered in cum soon enough.”

  And with that, she slowly takes my cock in her mouth while I lean back in my favorite armchair and relish the feeling, thinking about all the delightfully sinful things the two of us are going to do this week.

  Yes, Grace is going to get quite the education this week. Her eyes will be wide in wonder and astonishment many, many times over the course of the next seven days.

  18

  Grace

  The second that I had wrapped my lips around Richard’s cock I knew I was going to love this, and a few minutes in that still rings true. Who would have known that I’d enjoy sucking cock as much as I do? I guess you learn something new every day, even about yourself.

  His cock is so big that I feel like if I had it in my mouth on a regular basis I may develop jaw issues, but I think it’d be worth it.

  I pull my lips back slowly, savoring the feeling of my lips passing over each bulging vein, finally getting to the tip and swirling my tongue around it.

  He moans softly and I feel him stroke my hair affectionately, a pleased hum escaping his lips.

  I look up at him with a mouthful of his huge cock and he smiles back down at me, lips parted slightly as he sighs.

  What a fucking gorgeous man.

  In reality all three of them are; Michael, Daniel, and Richard, in their own unique—but very equal—ways.

  How the fuck is a girl supposed to choose between three men that are as damn near perfect as they are?

  Here with Richard I’m enjoying myself so much that I feel like I could suck his cock all day and still be happy, potential jaw problems be damned.

  Not only am I enjoying myself immensely here with Richard, sucking his cock, I’ve been enjoying myself with Michael and Daniel as well.

  Daniel spoiled me fucking rotten for an entire week, making me feel like a princess and like I should be treated like that all the time. Luxurious bubble baths, pampering, and orgasms galore had me on cloud nine.

  Michael had me serve him for an entire week, I was basically his submissive little slave to do whatever he bode me, and I fucking loved it. He’s the kind of man that can have you crawling on your hands and knees across a floor begging for his cock, and you’ll not only love it, you’ll thank him for it.

  And now, here with Richard, I feel the same sort of enjoyment, just in a different light. The fact that I’m sitting here gazing up at him with admiration while I’ve got his cock in my mouth is all the proof I need that I’m enjoying myself just as much.

  I didn’t think that I’d love cock—or should I say cocks—as much as I do, given my limited experience, but what can I say? I’m hungry for it. Them. Whatever.

  All three of these men have given me such amazing experiences, and I don’t want to give any of it up. I love it all, and expecting me to choose at this point just seems like pure torture.

  I continue to bob my mouth up and down on Richard’s cock, enjoying the sensation of him hitting the back of my throat and triggering my gag reflex. I suppress it and keep going, eager to please him and to get a taste of his cum. There’s a part of me that wants to compare the taste of all three of them, and the thought makes me shiver. Can you imagine?

  I can feel him throbbing in my mouth as he groans above me and I moan around his shaft, reveling in the fact that I’m able to pull noises like that from him with just my mouth.

  I’m so distracted, in fact, that I don’t notice the noises and movement behind me in the doorway until Richard is saying my name, cupping my cheek as he gently urges himself out of me.

  I look at up at him and frown slightly, worried that I’ve done something he doesn’t like.<
br />
  “Did I do something wrong?” I ask, running my hands up his legs and squeezing his thighs.

  “No, no,” he purrs, brushing my cheek with his thumb. “But we have visitors.”

  I look back at him confused, brow furrowed and lips pursed in a line line.

  He nods and gestures behind me towards the doorway I initially came in, and my jaw drops when I lay my eyes on the two men that have walked in.

  There, in the doorway and slowly walking towards us are Michael and Daniel, both of their eyes on me.

  My gaze darts between the two of them, my mouth slightly agape and I gasp, looking back at Richard in question.

  He simply smiles at me and shrugs, and then looks over at Michael and Daniel, nodding in greeting.

  “Gentlemen.”

  I look at the two of them and before I have a chance to ask them what the hell they’re doing here, Michael beats me to it and looks me dead in the eye, his voice unwavering.

  “So, Grace,” he says, his tone cold and even. “Have you made your choice? Clock’s ticking.”

  He tapped at his watch and crossed him arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow at me. When I glanced at Daniel, he seemed to be on the same page as Michael.

  I balk at him and sigh, looking from him, to Daniel, to Richard, and then back to him.

  How was I supposed to make this decision, right here, when I just had Richard’s cock in my mouth, thinking about how much I enjoyed all three of them?

  I sigh and look back at Richard who’s now stroking his cock and eyeing me up, as if to tease me and accentuate the fact that I just had it in my mouth.

  “I don’t want to choose,” I say, my voice firmer than I thought it could be. “I can’t. I won’t choose.”

  “So what are you saying, Grace?” Michael asks, shifting his weight as he narrows his gaze.

  I smile at him and then slide my gaze to Richard as I reach up and grasp his cock, slowly stroking him up and down.

  “I want you,” I purr to Richard, leaning over and licking the tip of his cock, “And I want you,” I say as I turn to Michael, beckoning him over.