Acres, Natalie - Sex Junkie [Cowboy Addiction 1](Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (10 page)

She longed for that pleasure punch, the one that would inevitably rock her world, shake and rattle her insides until she wasn’t only spent, she was retired. She wanted sex on the fly, the kind of experience that trumped all others without their hand or cock to guide her, and she was almost there.

Another few strikes and the foreplay was bound to come to an end. She’d lock into the throes of an orgasm similar to those experienced in a wet dream. Once she grabbed hold, she wouldn’t let go until her climax washed over her like an unrelenting rain.

Grant used the toy like a spear, poking her here and there, jabbing her mound and then tracing her pussy lips again. Her cunt was sore. Oh hell, she couldn’t take it anymore. The pain, once delicious and intoxicating, had become more than she could manage. Vacating her plans to get off without permission, she succumbed to the loss of what little control she possessed.

“
Manhattan
!” She screamed out her safe word, regretting she’d needed the vocal release.

And just like that—the pain and the pleasure subsided, both slipping away like an evening sun, gradual and hypnotic, enticing the viewer to question what lingered on the other side of the horizon.

Morgan always felt the same way whenever she blurted out a save, the safe word guaranteed to halt everything on a dime. She always suffered that feeling of missing out. What if she’d lasted another second, another minute? She often convinced herself that using the safe word wasn’t for her protection and safety, but rather a Dom’s way of ensuring the foreplay eventually came to a grinding halt.

Whatever the reason, she’d used her word. And now, just as she had in the past, she wanted to take it back, choke on it while they continued to manipulate her body for her pleasure and their own.

Blake and Grant never asked her why she stopped them. Disappointment didn’t show in their expressions.

This was why she trusted them. Blake and Grant always listened to her. They paid attention to how she responded to certain stimuli. She was given everything she desired after they punished her appropriately. Through them, she learned to concentrate on ways to improve.

While she didn’t believe she let them down when she used her safe word, she might have found more satisfaction in riding out the moment, particularly with the violet wand. Relieved and troubled at the same time, Morgan found acceptance, too.

She was still loved. Grant and Blake adored her. They’d proven they cared for her time and time again, even now.

She was comforted by the fact that she could still place her life in their hands. Her Doms would never leave her. They would never abandon her. They’d been awaiting her return, and she trusted them then more than she ever trusted them in the past.

* * * *

“I can’t believe I trusted you!” she screamed out only minutes later. Spread like the wings of an eagle, her arms and legs were tied to the spokes of the Catherine Wheel. She wasn’t just exposed. She was the epitome of an explicit display.

Grant and Blake seemed to love the way they exploited her. If they’d fucked her before they placed her there, she might have enjoyed the exposure more. Instead, after she’d used her safe word, Blake had released her hands, hoisted her into his arms and immediately carried her to the wheel.

Grant stood over her. “What happens to naughty little girls when they don’t mind, Morgan?”

“Punishment,” she bit out, her head rolling from side to side. “But I’ve been properly scolded!”

“I don’t think so. Do you, Grant?”

“Nope,” Grant replied, turning to Morgan. “Do you know why this punishment is so severe today, sub?”

She nodded. “I was a bad submissive partner.”

“With bad habits,” Grant reminded her.

“Yes,” she agreed, thinking she could set aside those issues immediately if they’d just help her out. She needed to fuck away the rest of the day.

Grant patted her pussy, his middle finger dipped slightly between her folds, and she bucked, hoping to catch more than the tip.

He smirked. “There you go again. You’re rushing me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said in earnest.

“I’ll forgive you. We can let this slide, can’t we Blake?”

Blake clucked. “I don’t know.”

She studied him. “I’ll do better, Blake. You know I’ll try harder.”

“I guess we can overlook it this time. I’d rather have her greedy to fuck us than out on the streets looking for drugs.”

His declaration ripped her heart out, but at the same time, she knew Blake and Grant well enough to know that they would make mention of her drug use in random conversation just to remind her of the reasons for her punishment.

“When we’re done here, Morgan, if you’re good, you’ll be rewarded.”

“How?” she asked, wanting them to tell her verbatim.

“I’ll fuck you,” Grant replied.

“By yourself?” she asked, a mischievous edge in her voice.

“No, Blake will fuck you, too. Better?”

“Much,” she said, satisfied. “I’m curious about that. You know, about the two of you penetrating me at the same time.”

Grant’s eyes darkened and he leaned over her and said, “Why? Are you scared?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But you still think you’ll enjoy having two dicks stroking you?”

“Yes.”

Blake shot her a wink. “You’ll be hooked. That’s a promise.”

She gasped as the wheel began its first rotation. The wood jarred as the center spoke allowed the circular piece balance. Soon, the wheel moved in a clockwise rotation. She stretched her neck and watched as she passed Blake, then Grant, then Blake again.

All the while, she was focused on her sex. The ginger made her pussy sizzle, and the scorching heat was more than superficial. The juices pooled at her entrance, burning her to her very core, the erotic fires dancing through her channel, licking her clit, and tantalizing her nipples. Everywhere the ginger had been rubbed or stuck, her body was brushed with a lingering reminder.

Now, as she spun around, she redirected her gaze, catching a glimpse of Blake’s hard dick pressing against his jeans, and then noticing Grant’s eyes filling with lust. Oh God, how much control could they possibly have now?

If she’d been the one behind the violet wand, if the electric device had been in her hand, how much punishment could she issue before the delivery itself became physically painful to watch?

The answer itself was evident in the thick package settled between Blake’s legs. He was enticed, tempted. Her mouth watered as she thought about Blake.

Good God, how they used to fuck away the days. She specifically remembered the first time Blake laid her down and loved her. They’d been practicing Domination and submission up until her nineteenth birthday. He was leaving for college soon, and he feared he’d leave her a virgin and someone else would take what he failed to grab for himself.

As the wheel spun, round and round, Morgan imagined herself in one of those old movies. The clip from her past started rolling backwards, squares spinning around and around until there was a huge pop. The modern-day scene vanished, tossing her back into the past, recapping another year, another setting. There, her history unfolded.

She was nineteen and in love. She’d been teased and taunted, loved hard, humped dry. And she wanted more.

Apparently, Blake did, too, but he wasn’t about to have sex without her brothers’ permission. She’d been so angry when she discovered Blake talked over his goals and ambitions with Kit and Kemper, she’d almost left him standing on her porch when he stopped by later that evening. Instead, she swore she’d make him pay for embarrassing her.

Morgan kept her promise.

Later that night, as they consummated their love, she’d enjoyed multiple orgasms. Blake, on the other hand, was so nervous and excited, he never got off.

He later made up for where he lacked, of course, but that first night together, oh hell. Their first time was something else. Nonstop loving led the way into an unforgettable night full of romance and perfection.

Blake did everything right. From music to candlelight, the man made sure her first time was special, wonderful.

Morgan took a deep breath, closed her eyes and concentrated on those memories. When the wheel stopped, she opened her eyes. Blake hovered over her, placing a peck on her lips.

His mouth trailed down her neck and he caught a nipple between his teeth, dragging his tongue over the point. He then returned to her mouth, wedging his tongue between her sealed lips, and that’s when he gave her one hell of a heated, lust-driven kiss.

At the same time, Grant shoved a dildo in her pussy, one she never saw in his hand. She released a sudden sigh as she anticipated the climax, wishing she could close her legs and trap his arm between her thighs.

Grant fucked her with the toy until her breathing became ragged, an indicator he probably recognized. As she prepared to take the first orgasm, he managed to force the climax away, removing the toy and slapping her bare mound until the wallop resounded, an echo designed to make her ache for another slap, another smack, and so much more than what they’d already allowed.

“Fuck me,” she whispered against Blake’s lips. “Tell him I want the damn thing buried inside me.”

“Not yet, sub,” Grant said, shoving the toy between her folds and withdrawing the gadget even faster. He gave her pussy another solid smack and then finally left the tip of the device right inside her pussy lips, but the impalement was hardly worth a mention, and fell quite short of her appreciation.

She cried aloud then, the tears drifting down her cheeks. “I need to come!”

“And you will,” Blake promised, yanking the lever attached to the wheel. “Right after we’re certain you’ve learned your lesson.”

Chapter Nine

They carried her to bed and left her there—unattended and unbound. She looked at the clock. Two hours. She’d never endured such physical training, never been so aroused. She felt as if she’d been coerced into a damning kind of lust, forbidden desire destined to destroy her.

Blake and Grant returned to her bedroom simultaneously. Blake entered from the hall while Grant slipped out of the bathroom. Both men were nude, already sheathed, erect, and shimmering with the lube practically dripping from their cocks. Grant tossed other assorted lubricants to the mattress.

Up until that moment, she feared and almost convinced herself that she had no effect on them now whatsoever.

In a matter of seconds, Blake lay to her right. Grant stretched out at her left. Her small breasts rose and fell as her breathing became uneven under their heated hands, their cautious caresses, and their attentive pampering.

This was the reason she agreed to submit to Grant and Blake in the first place. Her Doms loved and rewarded her, as their sub, as spectacularly as they punished her.

Once she was sandwiched between them, their bodies swayed as one. She barely realized she hadn’t begun to explore them until Grant pushed her hand to his groin and Blake guided her free palm to his penis.

She pumped each man, pulling them through her tight fists, locking her fingers around their hard cocks and giving them a slow hand job, taking her time to do whatever she could to entice them.

“That’s it, Morgan,” Blake crooned. “Feel me.”

“Touch us everywhere,” Grant said, easing her hand lower, showing her how he wanted her to cup his balls, finger the taut veins pushing through his skin.

Using the pads of her fingers, she traced the lines of Grant’s scrotum. “There?”

“Yes. That works for me.”

She applied too much pressure then and he jerked, a flash of wickedness settled in his eyes. “Careful. You don’t want me to spank you, do you?”

In fact, she would’ve loved another spanking, only she wanted them to fuck her first. Once the fucking was out of the way, they could do whatever they wanted to lure her into their beds again.

Not that she needed them to keep her aroused and entertained. Or did she?

Grant finally came to his side. Propping his head against the heel of his hand, he looked down on her. The love in his eyes shone down on her like a warm spotlight, and her body responded to him as much then as in the previous hours.

Her pussy clenched as the need pooled at her folds, covering her sex with her slick heat. She needed them inside her, holding her, fucking her, claiming her the way only men in love could stake their rights in a woman.

“Trust us, Morgan.”

“I do,” she admitted.

“Do you trust us enough to love you sober?” Grant asked.

“Yes.”

“Will you let us make you well again?” Blake asked, closing his hand over hers.

“Ah yes,” she said, enjoying the swell of their erections pulsing in her hands.

It was in that moment when she saw the evidence of pain deeper than any other. Grant had changed. The loss of a sibling, the demise of a brother, wasn’t something she could even process. How would she feel if she lost Kit or Kemper?

As she questioned how she would cope, she wondered how Kit and Kemper had handled losing her. Grant was hurt. The evidence of his pain stamped a permanent place in his hardened expression.