Three Times a Lady [Hell's Delight 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Karen Mercury

  Orlando was used to their private displays of affection, so Ewan had freely ground his prick against his lover’s while panting into Noel’s mouth.

  “I want you,” Ewan whispered, caressing the musician’s grizzled jaw in his palm.

  “I want you, too,” Noel panted back. He snaked his hands under Ewan’s shirt to feel the level plane of his lower back. “Running into Autumn meant nothing to me. Nothing. I’ll prove it to you.”

  “I believe you,” Ewan lied.

  Now he allowed Noel to shove him, stumbling, into the kitchen. It sure seemed as though Noel might allow Ewan to top him tonight, and Ewan’s cock throbbed with such pleasure it spread through his balls and radiated throughout his abdomen. How did Noel intend to prove to him that Autumn meant nothing? Every inch of Ewan’s skin was on fire with anticipation as Noel hustled him until he smacked up against a counter.

  Ewan spread his cowboy boots apart on the tiled floor, knowing the sight of him in 501s with his cowhide chaps still buckled on drove Noel batshit. When he leaned back on his hands on the counter he displayed that he was wide open for whatever Noel wanted. Usually Noel would be forcing Ewan to his knees so Ewan would service him orally. Ewan certainly didn’t mind that, but he was more than a little pissed that Noel had gone off with his beautiful ex. His ego was pumped when Noel pressed his body to his, grabbing a handful of his prick that plumped in the gap between the chaps.

  “You tool,” Noel murmured against Ewan’s chin. He squeezed Ewan’s erection lovingly. “You know I’m never quitting you. You’re the sexiest, juiciest, most carved cowboy in the west, and you drive me over the fucking edge.”

  This pleased Ewan. He threw his head back so Noel could suck on his neck, and he thrust his hard-on firmly into Noel’s palm. “But you wrote songs about her. ‘If I live in fear, then I know I am afraid of pain, and to reach out because I know there will only be a wall.’”

  Noel clutched Ewan’s dick harder, almost to the point of pain. “That was years ago, you fucking gobshite.” He growled against Ewan’s exposed throat. “You know I haven’t seen her in fourteen years.”

  “Fourteen years doesn’t mean you don’t still want her.” Ewan was being a shit disturber, a brat, he knew. He didn’t normally have the nerve to top from the bottom. But since Noel had genuinely been caught red-handed stealing away to a private spot with the only woman that Noel had truly ever loved, Ewan felt he could get away with it. It had fiercely stabbed Ewan to the core to see that, out of the entire ocean of open, gaping mouths facing Noel in the Pit, he had made a beeline for his former lover. Had literally even followed her out the door like a puppy dog, even enlisting Orlando in his secret assignation. Ewan was pissed, and more than a little scared. “You took off with her, and were alone in the car with her.”

  Noel tore Ewan’s shirt open. He yanked the kerchief away, a cloud of dust from the open range showering onto the counter. He had a vise grip around Ewan’s waist with the other arm—Noel was brutally strong. Most people assumed musicians were weaklings who just stood around moving only their hands, but Noel was built like a bull from all his aerobic antics onstage. It took some might to climb those light towers. “You have nothing to fear,” Noel muttered, licking a trail across Ewan’s hairy pec and lightly biting the stiff nipple. “No one can come close to you, you fucking gaucho.” Ewan rued the day he’d told Noel he was one-eighth Brazilian.

  Ewan grabbed the back of Noel’s skull and held him tight. “Suck me. If you want to prove I have nothing to fear, then give me a hearty, good cocksucking.” Ewan was taking a chance, he knew, ordering Noel around like that. They had no hard and fast rules, no high protocol to their partnership. But it was generally assumed that Ewan was taking a wild risk by issuing a command to Noel.

  Not this time. Noel’s hands were already at the top button of the 501s. Ewan’s cock was so stiff it practically sprang into Noel’s fist, and in an instant Noel was on his knees gulping down Ewan’s meat.

  Ewan let loose with a long, low, drawn-out groan, like the lowing of his cattle. A rush of lust shot through him as Noel sucked down his organ. The surge of love that raced through Ewan’s limbs reassured him that Noel wasn’t going to leave him for some damned Colorado lawyer.

  Ewan liked Autumn. At the Pit, he had completely seen what Noel saw in her. There was a delicate toughness to her. Autumn presented a brittle exterior to the world, as she no doubt had to in her career. The vulnerability behind her eyes told Ewan she had probably been deeply hurt by the breakup with Noel. Yes, it was a long time ago, but time didn’t deaden that sort of deep passion.

  Ewan didn’t want to like Autumn. He wanted to hate all women, even the harmless crew-cut women of the Cultured Pearl motorcycle club. Ewan hadn’t always been a submissive bottom who loved to be bound and flogged by other men. That was just his coping mechanism of the past several years. He had been evolving and changing when Noel had come into his life almost a year ago. He was tiring of submitting to the brutality of other men, men who increasingly seemed to abuse their dominance, using it as a tool to demonstrate their anger.

  That wasn’t Ewan’s interest, and he was relieved when he’d finally turned Noel, so to speak. Noel proved himself the sexiest sort of top, with exactly the right touch. Noel was just as pleasantly surprised as Ewan to discover he had a deft touch with every impact implement. He knew innately exactly how far he could push Ewan before he’d break. And he never pushed too far, never did any permanent damage like some of those so-called Doms Ewan had encountered. Ewan had scars from knife play gone wrong or a too-enthusiastic whipping, and he’d safeworded out of one scene entirely when a guy pushed his limits with a violet wand. Seems that people just kept trying to top themselves these days, playing fast and loose with restraints. Some things were no longer safe, sane, or consensual.

  Noel pushed his lover’s limits now, detaching his mouth from the cock, holding it fast in his fist, and giving it a nice slap. “Autumn means nothing to me, Ewan.” Slap. “You get that through your fucking thick skull. That was another lifetime ago. I’m with you now.” Slap. For good measure he gathered Ewan’s naked ball sac in his other hand and smacked his testicles, too.

  It stung so good, Ewan laced his fingers together between the counter and his tailbone and urged his pelvis toward his lover. He liked the way his fat cock bobbed every time Noel struck it, how it reddened and turned darker, and how this enflamed Noel and drove him to greater heights.

  Ewan gasped between slaps, “You can’t blame me for being jealous, Noel. You’re so fine, and could have any woman you want.”

  When Noel dove onto Ewan’s cock, Ewan groaned like a water buffalo. But his sucking was only temporary, to lubricate Ewan’s penis for another round of lightning slaps. Ewan cried out higher and louder now, but he never removed his hands from where he gripped the counter.

  Smack. Smack. Smack. “You shouldn’t question me, you fucking gaucho. You know I’m yours. Questioning me only shows your weakness.”

  “I can’t help but be weak”—Ewan gasped—“when it comes to you. You’re my Kryptonite.” He knew that would secretly please Noel, but he’d feel obligated to play pissed off.

  Sure enough, Noel stood and yanked open a utensil drawer. Ewan was filled with smug gratitude, knowing what was in the drawer. Out came a cock ring, the leather snap-on type that circled the balls, made them jut forward prominently. Noel liked putting this on Ewan almost as much as he liked the cock and ball torture that usually followed. Smiling slyly as though he’d won the game, Ewan spread his feet even farther by kicking open a low sliding drawer and propping the heel of one boot on it as Noel worked.

  “I appreciate that I mean a lot to you,” Noel gritted out as he snapped the cock ring at its tightest point. He ran his wet lips over Ewan’s as he squeezed the hot, throbbing bulb of Ewan’s cockhead, swollen from the stricture of the ring. “And I want you to know there isn’t one…person…on the face of this planet that I would ever want to do this to.”r />
  Yanking Ewan from the counter by the shirtfront, Noel spun him around and shoved him to his knees on an area rug. Ewan’s hands slapped against the rug to break his fall, but Noel soon yanked those over his head, too. Noel was proficient and quick with the cuffs now, snapping them closed around Ewan’s wrists, held subserviently at the back of his neck.

  Ewan thought he picked up on Noel’s doublespeak. “You don’t want to handcuff any other man,” he confirmed.

  “Right,” snapped Noel, falling for it. Ewan could hear him uncovering himself, lubing his cock with one of the many bottles they kept hidden around the house, jacking himself, but not too much. Now he slapped Ewan’s naked ass with his clammy hand. The impact made Ewan’s blood-engorged cock twitch and jump. “There’s no other juicy, tight ass I’d rather slap. No other tight ass I’d rather invade. Like this.”

  Noel gave Ewan’s ass a few more wet slaps before impaling him on his prick. They were way past the point of needing rubbers, both having been tested when they decided to become monogamous. Noel pierced him deeply and thoroughly, nearly sending Ewan face first onto the floor. But Noel wrapped one arm like a steel band around his ribcage, and Ewan soon relaxed into the violation, as he’d done many times before. Noel liked to play this powerful, ruling game. It suited his personality to be the one taking his pleasure from the passive receptacle that was Ewan, at least to the untrained eye. Both men knew Ewan took his own enjoyment from being plundered, for whatever reason. The roles suited both men.

  “Ah, you like that, you twisted deviant,” growled Noel, holding tight to Ewan’s bound cock like a rudder. “You like being fucked up the ass by another man.”

  “By you.”

  Noel smacked Ewan’s bare ass, and this time his fingers dug in. That would leave marks. “No,” he said firmly. “You like being fucked up the ass, period, by any man.”

  So that was the scene. Ewan could play along. “Yes, I love being fucked by men.” Relaxing into the punishing fucking, Ewan swiveled his hips lasciviously. At one point that statement would have been true. After his marriage dissolved so horribly, he had dived into the roughest, most degrading scenes that the Albuquerque club circuit offered. Ewan barely remembered the plane trip to Sacramento to try out the club Bottoms Up. It was just one of those drunk things a group of friends did. Ewan had liked it enough to stay and start life anew. Of course he’d completely given up rough trade when he’d met Noel. Noel was enough to make a man give up religion.

  Noel was driven to fiercer heights by Ewan’s lewd “admission.” He smacked Ewan’s flank now with a wooden paddle—some of the best impact implements could be found at Delight Hardware. This one stung worse than Noel’s hand, but Noel was in punishment mode now. Ewan’s ass would be red for a while. “You love slutting around, giving yourself to any big hung cock that comes along.”

  It was the game they played—and the aftercare was fantastic. “Yes, Master. I’ve been a horrible slut.”

  But today, this admission wasn’t good enough. Noel tossed aside the paddle and, with one brutal shove between Ewan’s shoulder blades, was on top of Ewan on the kitchen floor. Ewan had buffered his fall with his bound hands in front of his chest, but he had no choice but to submit to the rigorous humping he was receiving.

  “I’ve been a horrible slut and I should pay. Oh God, yes. Please don’t stop, Noel. Fuck me. Yes. Yessss. That’s good. Do me good.” He had absolutely no wiggle room. The most he could do was raise his torso to glance in a mirror Noel had propped in the living room. Yes. He would never tire of the sight of the bare-assed rock star reaming the stuffing out of him, Noel’s full ball sac slapping loudly against his own as he received his punishment. His dick had never been so stiff, so aroused. He allowed Noel’s thrusts to rub his bound penis against the rug until pre-cum spurted from the tip. Goose bumps spread over his shoulders and ass, puckering his nipples.

  “You love this, don’t you,” gritted Noel. “You just love being assaulted by other men. Admit it! Admit you love getting fucked up the ass!”

  Ewan already had admitted it, so he knew this was more than a game to Noel. There was something about Noel’s meeting with Autumn that had riled him above and beyond their usual rebel play. But Noel would never admit it in a million years, so Ewan cried out, “Yes! Fuck me harder, Master. I need your dominance to get off. I need to be dominated by your virility—”

  That did it. Noel froze, flooding Ewan’s ass with his hot seed. It quickly flowed over and trickled between Ewan’s thighs, running in a ticklish, maddening rivulet over his burgeoning balls. Ewan held his breath too, propped up on his bound hands like a trained seal. He flexed his ass to milk the cock inside of him. Every time he flexed, more pre-cum squirted the poor, abused rug, but Ewan knew Noel wouldn’t allow him to come, not completely. That was the part of CBT they both loved.

  After draping himself like a limp scarecrow over Ewan for several minutes, Noel pushed off. He gave Ewan’s ass one last slap for good measure before wandering off, presumably to the bathroom. Ewan was left to drag himself on his forearms to a sitting position and lean against a cabinet, defeated, panting.

  There was definitely more to the meeting with Autumn than met the eye. She was “the one who got away,” and Noel didn’t take kindly to that. He wasn’t the sort to go off quietly into the dark night and just let some woman get the upper hand. Ewan knew Noel had never found anyone worthwhile to replace Autumn.

  Ewan cradled his purple, throbbing cock in his hot, dry hands. He had to face the very real possibility that Noel was going to fall for the ways of this witchy, wily lawyer. Noel had run the gauntlet of nubile groupies and had finally fixed on the rough love of a refined cowboy. That alone should have satisfied Ewan, given him confidence.

  But Ewan’s past didn’t invest him with much confidence. The tragedy of his marriage had thrust him into a dark underworld where it took him a while to realize his kindness and trust were being violated. That wasn’t the sort of D/s relationship that Ewan craved, not one that was healthy for him. He’d found the right balance with Noel, but it was always a tenuous bond. Noel’s fame meant that at any second he could be jetting off again—and into someone’s arms.

  Noel met up with plenty of princesses, ladies, socialites, politicians. The next sovereign of an abject nation could command some belly dance for Noel and all would be over. Why does he stay with me, anyway? I’m just a damned cowboy—just a savage gaucho.

  “Yeah. Yeah. Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.” Noel came back into the kitchen, fully dressed, talking on his Bluetooth. With a crook of his finger he indicated that Ewan should stand. Noel talked to his business manager as he uncuffed Ewan. “I’ll take a gander at the proposal, but I thought we were pretty maxed out on real estate. I’d like to put more into precious metals. What was that mine that Bob Geldof was telling you about? Oh, you mean the deal with Devin Jonas? Aye, he agreed to sell me forty acres. Uh-huh. I don’t know. I’ll have his realtor send you the paperwork as soon as it’s done.”

  What? Noel was buying property from Hardscrabble Ranch? This was news. Why wouldn’t he tell Ewan about it? As cow boss, Ewan knew this ranch like the back of his hand. He could warn Noel away from any bad springs or invasive wild strawberry field. Where was the land Noel was buying? Was he buying this decrepit old house?

  Ewan rubbed his wrists and jacked up his chaps so he could buckle them back on. He casually went to check his own phone as Noel continued blathering about George Clooney and some “ossified muppet” who had given George a bad investment tip. Ewan felt almost dead inside as he saw a text from Autumn Chamberlain.

  Nice to meet you earlier tonight. We could have coffee at Grounds for Insanity tomorrow at eleven if you want to know more about your brother.

  Glancing at Noel, Ewan took the phone out to the back deck to text her.

  No thanks. I think I have all the information I need. Thank you anyway.

  He wanted nothing to do with that wily skank. But he’d find out her b
usiness here in town. Maybe he could hasten her departure, and all would be well again in Noel’s world.

  Chapter Four

  It was even more freeing than Autumn had anticipated, horseback riding up the rolling green ridge.

  Autumn and Lacey finally reined in their mounts when they reached some scattered volcanic rocks at the summit of the ridge. Not used to being on horseback, Autumn’s generous ass was already a bit sore. They’d been riding for almost three hours and hadn’t seen Ewan yet. Autumn had stretched the truth a little when she’d told Lacey that Ewan wanted to see her regarding his brother. Ewan actually had texted back last night that he didn’t need her help at all.

  Rick’s ongoing downhill slide was beginning to seriously depress Autumn. She’d returned home last night and just wanted to open a bottle of wine and go over the events of the evening in her head. But was she allowed to do that? No, the caretaker had reported that Rick was now having sort of manic fits where he hid behind chairs, didn’t recognize her, and thought Jimmy Carter and Anwar Saddat were out to get him, to force him into some kind of “honest dialogue” with Sunnis and Kurds. He had also peed his pants, and when Carol had tried to watch a TV show she had found him half an hour later in the backyard near Autumn’s old tree fort.

  “I’m not cut out for this level of caregiving, Lace,” said Autumn now, leaning against the saddle’s cantle. It truly was gorgeous out here, almost like the way she imagined Ireland, the curving hills dotted occasionally with stands of oak. But no horses were to be seen. One chat with Ewan Nash might cheer her up. Hearing any news about Noel Butler would make her feel closer to him. And she felt very far away indeed right now. “I convinced Carol to spend the night, and this morning we called a few agencies that specialize in that sort of thing.”