High-Stakes Loving [King's Bluff, Wyoming 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Fiona Archer

  Reagan closed her eyes. Her lips, now tightly pressed together, turned white under the pressure. Her once calm breathing grew louder, shorter.

  Moving the flogger back down to her thighs, Quinn smiled as Mike changed his grip to hold Reagan’s wrists high in one hand before sliding his other hand down over her stomach. One finger circled her clit, drawing back the hood, allowing Quinn a view that threatened to steal the rhythm of his flogging.

  “Oh, God.” Reagan’s throaty cry elicited no reprieve as Mike continued to circle and rub the rosy bundle of nerves. She threw her head back against his shoulder, her whole body shaking from their combined attentions.

  Mike glanced at Quinn, the look in his eyes showing the same burning pride Quinn held in his chest. This beautiful, responsive woman was giving her all. To them.

  Quinn lowered his flogger and took a step back. His partner nodded and lifted his hand from her pussy, ignoring the plaintive whine that resulted. Instead, he widened his stance before pulling one of her thighs up high and to the side.

  Spread wide, the moist plum-colored folds of her pussy glistened between her legs. He smelled her unique musky scent, reveled in it. As his cock ached in his jeans, Quinn consoled himself that a lesser man would have already come in his pants.

  Reagan squirmed against Mike, her eyes still closed. “Please please please.”

  “Now, sugar.” Quinn flicked the falls right on her clit.

  “Oh, fuck!” She bucked against Mike, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open.

  Thwap.

  Thwap.

  “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.” Reagan’s shriek turned into a high-pitched wail.

  Quinn dropped the flogger and then reached between her legs to twist the end of the vibe, pushing it hard against the spot he knew drove her to shredded bliss. His gaze met her own—hers filled with a mixture of desperation and wonder—and held it as deep shudders wracked her body until her climax dissipated.

  “Beautiful.” Mike’s voice sounded thick with obvious lust.

  “Come on, darlin’. Let’s take this to bed.” Quinn removed the vibe, dropping it onto a small cloth on the dresser. When he turned back, Mike was placing a soft kiss on her head as he slowly lowered her arms and leg.

  “You came alive under that flogger, sub. Tell me how it felt,” Mike ordered.

  “I never thought—” She broke off, gulped and then tried again. “I mean, that was…” She took another deep breath. “Freaking amazing.”

  Satisfaction deepened Quinn’s voice. “And so were you.”

  He waited until Mike stepped away before gathering Reagan up in his arms and carrying her to the bed. His buddy tore back the covers, leaving Quinn free to rest her in the center of the mattress.

  Quinn stretched out alongside her, stroking a hand over her skin. Warm, no goose bumps. Her breathing was close to normal and her eyes held a shiny glow that teamed perfectly with the flush of her cheeks.

  The sound of Mike undoing his jeans zipper invaded Quinn’s thoughts. Get naked, buddy. Within seconds, he and Mike were bare-assed and had joined Reagan on the bed, Quinn laying back against the pillows. He handed her a condom packet. “Take care of me, sugar.”

  She’d done it for him the last night they’d slept together and he’d seen the pleasure it gave her. Some subs liked to serve their Dom in ways that others didn’t enjoy. Would she still wish to do so?

  The upward curve of her mouth answered his question. Despite her wrists being cuffed, she easily ripped open the foil packet and slid the condom over his erect cock, bestowing a soft kiss on the head.

  He should reprimand her for straying past his instructions, but her gesture seemed so fucking sweet and her smile so light, he didn’t have the heart.

  Mike shot him a dry smile before tapping her shoulder. “Now me. And no kissing, sub. Your lips touch my cock and I won’t last.” He kneeled beside her on the bed and waited until she’d finished her task, her fingers barely leaving the base of his cock before he said, “I’m taking that sweet ass of yours tonight, Reagan.”

  Quinn didn’t give Reagan a chance to react, pulling her over his lap to straddle his hips. A quick slide of his fingers checked her wetness, finding her silky smooth. With one hand gripping her hip, he guided himself to her entrance, pressing in an inch. “Take a breath, sugar.”

  He let her gulp in some air before he pushed her down, seating her fully over him. He gritted his teeth as the tight warmth of her body adjusted around him. A few more deep breaths, then she opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. In a slow move, he lifted his hips, loving the way her breath caught with his upward thrust. She raised her hands to his chest, balancing herself. Ah, yes, her bonds.

  “You’ve been tied or cuffed most of the evening, Reagan. I’d be tempted to let you lose, except we both know those cuffs aren’t hurting you. More importantly, you want to be restrained by your kidnappers, subdued, with no chance of escape.”

  The muscles of her vagina clamped around his cock. That’s right. The body never lies.

  “She liked that, Mike,” Quinn said.

  “Thought so.” Mike curled his hand in her hair, drawing her head back to meet his kiss. Hard and fast, Mike took his fill. By the time he’d finished, her lips were appropriately swollen. Holding her chin in his hand, he studied his handiwork. “Better.”

  After one last kiss, he released her hair to move behind her. Spreading his fingers wide, he stroked them down her back, gently easing her upper body forward over Quinn’s chest.

  Her gaze settled on Quinn. A cloud of wariness darkened its blue depths.

  “You have permission to speak, sugar.” Quinn flicked a strand of her mink-brown hair behind her ear. “We’re gonna ask you how you’re feeling. There’s nothing to be scared about here.” He ran a finger down her cheek and then curled it under her chin, drawing her in for a kiss.

  Her lips softened against his. He coaxed her with a gentleness that warred with the hammering need in his cock. Too fucking bad. She needed soothing. And there was something to be said for drawing out the expectation.

  When she pressed down heavier onto his chest, an unconscious sign of her trust, he slowly ended the kiss.

  Her breathy sigh was his reward.

  He continued to thrust inside her, each time higher. One hand guided her hips, easing her into a rhythm that soon had her fixated solely on what was happening to her at that very moment. Using his other hand, he rubbed her clit, feeling it harden under his touch. Around. Across. Over the hood. Tiny whimpers greeted each stroke. His cock twitched inside her.

  The sound of their sub as she neared the begging stage was something to be savored.

  From where he kneeled behind her, Mike reached around her and grasped a nipple and then rolled the bud between two fingers. “I love it when they get hard and pointy. You like it when I pinch them, don’t you, Reagan? When I squeeze until it starts to burn”—he twisted the nipple—“and then longer.”

  She gasped, her eyes glassy, unfocused.

  Quinn aimed his cock to the left, changing the angle of his thrusts. Behind him, he glimpsed Mike putting on a surgical glove before he covered two fingers with a liberal amount of lube.

  Pre-empting her reaction, Quinn wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping his other hand over her pussy.

  Mike’s voice held a hint of darkness as he spoke close to her ear. “Hold still, sweetness, I’m starting with one finger.” Judging from her immediate jolt, he didn’t wait for his words to sink in.

  Reagan closed her eyes and sucked her lower lip into her mouth. “Ummmmm.”

  Both men smiled as she pushed back against Mike’s hand, eager, wanting more.

  “That’s it, baby. Fuck, you look gorgeous. Your little hole’s taking two fingers. You can handle more, can’t you?” Mike nipped her shoulder then slid off the bed to remove the glove. He quickly covered himself with lube and then returned, lining up behind her, his legs brushing against Quinn’s inner thighs. The contact was p
urely a mechanical element of their sharing a woman. Neither man paid it any attention.

  Mike nodded his chin at Quinn. Ready.

  “Your safe word, sub?” Quinn tugged on her hair.

  She blinked, focused back on Quinn’s face. “Spaghetti.”

  Pushing his fingers deep along the folds of her labia, he circled her clit. “Eyes on me, sugar.” He spoke low, commanding her with his voice as much as his words. “That’s it. Now breathe in and relax your lower spine.” He pulled out of her cunt, leaving only an inch of himself inside, allowing her as much room as possible for Mike’s entry.

  She stared back, hardly blinking as Mike began to enter her. “Oooooh, it’s”—she panted—“ooooh.” Her little fists curled, her fingers tugging painfully on the hairs on his chest. He enjoyed the sensation. It brought things closer, an experience shared.

  The pinched muscles around Mike’s mouth told their own story. “She’s tight. Fucking wonderfully tight.” He panted out the last word.

  “Keep going,” Quinn urged as he flicked a thumb over Reagan’s clit, watching as her mouth opened and closed with each thrust from behind. “How does it feel, sugar?”

  “Everything’s…” She broke off, sucked in more air. “It tingles. Everywhere.” Her body shuddered as Mike let out a groan.

  “I’m in.” Mike rubbed his hands over the full curve of her hips, not moving inside her, allowing her body a chance to adjust. After a minute, he slid out then in, repeating until Reagan was pushing back against him, obviously wanting him deeper, showing her body’s acceptance.

  “You’re ready, sub.” Quinn used one hand for leverage against the bed. He wrapped his other hand in her hair, relishing the flutter of her eyelashes as his grip tightened. “Look at me.” He needed her gaze on him when he entered her.

  Gritting his teeth, he thrust up, penetrating her with an agonizing slowness, holding back on the urge to plunge deep into her cunt. It was a primal need, a Dom’s need to conquer and control.

  Her eyes widened. Little pants of air blew out from her mouth, over his chest. “Too much.” She gulped. “The pressure’s…oooooh.” She lay over him with both men now inside her.

  Mike kneeled behind her, his muscles rigid in an obvious battle to remain still. “Just a little longer, baby. I can feel him, he’s nearly in.” He rubbed his hands over her shoulders, curling them and squeezing before dragging them down her back. “Good girl,” he crooned as she moaned. “You’re giving us so much pleasure, Reagan.”

  She hummed a sound as she rubbed her cheek against Quinn’s chest, Mike’s approval and praise seemingly meeting her sub needs.

  Quinn pushed deeper, rubbing against the thin lining of skin inside Reagan that separated he and Mike. Her cunt clamped around him, sending a pulse of hot pleasure through his cock.

  A deep, guttural sound rose from her throat. Her fingernails dug into his flesh. She whimpered, gazing at him with such trust it threatened to take his breath away.

  Quinn took the lead, lifting his hips as Mike eased back. Soon they had a rhythm established. The walls of her core rippled with their thrusts. Her muscles clenched down hard, wringing out his cock each time he withdrew. The tightness…Jesus, he wasn’t going to last. He dragged in precious air and fingered her clit, pinching the sides.

  He felt her vaginal walls shudder a second before she screamed out her release. A flurry of spasms teased him, testing his control. He kept pumping, drawing out her orgasm for as long as possible. Not until she dropped on top of him, her sobs echoing in his ears, did he relent.

  But first he had to get these words out. “You’re taken now, Reagan. Claimed.”

  Only then did he loosen his tight rein of control and abandon himself to pleasure. His cry sounded like rough stone scraping over metal, burning his throat. Sucking in a lungful of air, he gripped Reagan’s arms, clinging to her as his body rode out the blissful storm. He had no words, just stared at Mike, whose face, contorted and covered in a sheen of sweat, showed his own struggle.

  Seconds later, Mike growled, his body stiff as he jolted with his release. When his eyes opened, he looked at Quinn in apparent shock.

  Jesus, their tiny sub had flattened both of them. And with her hands cuffed no less.

  With care, Mike slid from her body. Smiling at her soft whine, he retreated to the bathroom.

  Quinn gently swiped back the clumps of hair that obscured her face. Her skin glowed with the flush of a woman well used. Her eyes were closed but her breathing was slowly coming back to normal. “You were wonderful, sugar.”

  “You weren’t bad yourself.” Her husky chuckle warmed a place deep in his chest. The simple sound hit him harder than a workout with his most feared instructor on the teams. And that bastard knew how to hit.

  Reagan’s sass mixed with her natural sweetness was an irresistible combination. He was the Dom, but she had the true power.

  He loved her. Hadn’t yet admitted it to anyone, but sure, he wanted the whole nine yards of wedded bliss with Reagan, and with Mike right beside him as an equal partner.

  They had it all before them. All except…

  The sour note that had played in his head earlier grew louder. What if her father was proven guilty? They’d already had a fight over the mere suggestion. If it became fact? Would she forgive them? Though the final decision to assign guilt would be a legal one, their evidence could be the tipping point. And if she walked away?

  “What’s up?” Mike loomed up beside the bed, his brows drawn together.

  Quinn inwardly cursed the bastard for having a silent tread. Fantastic when in the jungle. Not so when you needed a second to think.

  In their private discussions, Mike was more open to the possibility of Sam Edwards’s innocence, giving more credence to people’s good opinions than Quinn. Now wasn’t the time to debate those merits or Quinn’s fears of Reagan’s fragile trust.

  “Nothing.” He forced lightness into his voice. He hadn’t fooled Mike but he didn’t give a shit. As long as Reagan was happy, that’s all that counted. “Let’s take care of our sub and get her back into bed.” He lowered his arms, allowing Mike to scoop her up. Of course, the ex-sniper managed to give Quinn a look that said the subject, whatever Mike thought that to be, wasn’t done.

  Yeah, that’s what Quinn feared.

  * * * *

  Grrrrrddddd.

  Reagan grumbled and snuggled down further under the covers.

  Grrrrrddddd.

  There it was again, that grinding noise. A short burst and then quiet. She blinked open one eye, then the other. Sunlight streamed through the windows, spilling over the crisp white sheets. She yawned. Maybe if she—

  Grrrrrddddd.

  Dammit. With a weary sigh, she wiggled up the bed, catching her breath as the aftereffects of last night’s—and again early this morning’s—lovemaking caught up with her. The slight soreness at the ring of muscle in her bottom held its own satisfaction, a reminder of the guys claiming her. Both men had now taken her there, Quinn switching places with Mike during their last lovemaking. The big guy’s gentleness had belied his commanding presence as he’d eased her from sleepy woman to wailing banshee. And Mike? What that man could do with his tongue should be outlawed. Hmm, well, maybe everywhere but on her.

  Now here she was in their bed, naked and…happy, or was that content? She shook her head. Nope, she wouldn’t put labels on emotions. Not right now. This was a time to simply enjoy and—she took a deep breath—see where things may lead.

  And the possibilities held so much more promise than a week ago. If she was honest, and after last night anything less than that was unacceptable, her heart was theirs.

  Her falling in love had all happened way too fast and yet seemed a completely natural progression. They weren’t strangers. She had known them for months.

  They’d laughed with her, read with her, listened as she’d told them her dreams, and held her when she’d sobbed out her fears.

  And when she wasn’t look
ing, they’d cuddled her kitty when Marvin would let them get close enough. Not to score points with her, but because they wanted to make friends with her fur baby. Now that was golden.

  Heck, they’d kidnapped her to force her to tell them why she’d run at the first sight of trouble. Those weren’t the actions of men who were simply marking time.

  She sighed and fell back against the pillows. That’s when she spied the small sheet of notepaper on the pillow beside her. It contained a message in bold, straight lettering.

  Reagan, your clothing is on the end of the bed. Dress and join me before 9:30 a.m. to avoid punishment. And no, captives have no say in their clothing. Mike.

  She breathed in at the little thrill of seeing that word in his handwriting. His captive.

  Dropping the note, she crawled down to the end of the bed, seeing a pair of woolen socks and…nothing else.

  When these men had said they’d push her limits, they weren’t kidding.

  Her hands curled into fists on the bedding. A spurt of stubbornness scratched at her sense of pride, urging her to grab one of the guy’s shirts and march out with her chin held high. Yeah, she’d tell Mike he could shove his order. But hang on. She blinked, sinking down to her knees. Who was she fighting? Mike and his decree she be naked? Or her and her fears of body image?

  The truth forced her to heave a sigh.

  Smart Dom.

  Obviously Quinn wasn’t the only one who believed her inner demon hadn’t vaporized overnight.

  Grumbling to herself, she climbed off the bed, and then read over the note one more time. Dress and join me before 9:30 a.m. to avoid punishment. A quick glance at the clock revealed it was 9:10 a.m. Just enough time for a quick shower. The guys had given her amazing aftercare, including showering her. However, if she had to leave the bedroom bare-assed, then dammit, she’d be at her best.

  Her exhaustion-filled memories of the bathroom didn’t do it justice. It was huge, with a shower big enough for a whole team of SEALs. Its textured tiles in a mottled light gray blended in with the timber walls in the rest of the room. A large, cast iron bath set off to the side and the vanity, with its wide sink and matching tiled bench, complemented the small river-stone pebbled flooring. Come to think of it, the floor was warm to her bare feet. Wow, underfloor heating. She’d had no idea Noah and Flynn had spent so much on the renovation of the cabin, or maybe Quinn and Mike had contributed since they were staying here.