Read Bridled: Bitter Creek Doms #1 Online

Authors: Erika Masten

Tags: #menage, #romantic erotica, #domination, #submissive, #spanking, #menage a trois, #mfm, #rough sex, #domination and submission, #rope bondage, #double penetration, #maledom, #explicit erotica, #dp, #belting, #police sex, #menage erotica, #cop sex, #authority figure

Bridled: Bitter Creek Doms #1 (3 page)

BOOK: Bridled: Bitter Creek Doms #1
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My attention shifts back and forth
between Quinn’s blank, unreadable expression and the bold challenge
in Zach’s face, my emotions swinging wildly between dread and
longing.


Tell him what you want,
trouble,” Zach orders. “Remember to say please.”

I lean to half-hide behind Zach before
I whimper shyly, “Please…sir.” What does it mean when Quinn’s hands
jerk and clench up into fists at his side?


Good girl,” Zach coos
again, then nips at the tender underside of one of my arms near the
elbow, sending tingles all through that side of my body.


Please touch me,” I plead,
summoning all my nerve to look Quinn in the eye.

Before the words are out of my mouth,
Quinn has tossed his hat aside onto a stack of blankets and is
closing on us. Just that suddenly he is there, his mouth at mine,
one hand gripping my ponytail to hold me hard to his kiss. I
whimper against his soft lips—just like I remember them—as he
stuffs a long finger inside me along with Zach’s two. Two men with
their fingers up my quivering pussy, two muscular bodies pressed to
mine, two soft mouths and two sets of firm hands exploring all my
most intimate places.

Quinn raises his head only after he
has kissed me breathless and senseless. “You remember that night
before I left, don’t you?”

My brow knits, partly in surprise,
partly in the blissful agony of an approaching orgasm. “Do
you?”


Hell, yes.”

It’s not the time to ask why he never
said goodbye, why he never wrote, not with Zach leaving the deep
finger-fucking to Quinn so he can concentrate on pinching and
twisting my clit. My climax explodes out from my core, like a punch
in the stomach or the merciless thrust of a hard cock up my cunt,
robbing me of breath. I can’t make a sound, only squirm and
convulse, as unbearably sharp ripples of pleasure shoot out through
my body.


Yes, Mel, do it,” Quinn
demands, his voice husky and thick, his fingers stabbing and
twisting wildly in my obscenely wet pussy. “Clench your tight
little cunt, baby. Let me feel it.”

Zach’s fingers stop pinching my clit
but still dip between my lips to stroke it every time the terrible
delight seems about to decline. “Next time,” he purrs into my ear,
“no coming without permission.”

Next time? I’m beginning to
wonder if I can handle
this
time, before both men withdraw their fingers to
allow the pleasure to subside at last. The blond deputy shifts
around behind me, his fingertips digging into my hips, until I can
feel his massive erection pressed against my ass through two layers
of stiff denim. In front of me, my gorgeous brown-haired Quinn, the
man I’ve been fantasizing about for seventeen years, pushes my
t-shirt up and my white lacy bra down to take my round tits firmly
in his hands.

Between Zach grinding against my ass
and whispering to me and Quinn licking and flicking my rigid
nipples, I don’t know what to concentrate on.


Quinn and I shared a
beautiful submissive girl in Japan while we were stationed there,”
Zach croons low into my ear. “We’ll consider her practice for
making you our good little girl. Would you like that?”


Yes, sir,” I mew, even as
I wonder in the back of my mind how this could possibly be
happening. The two men who have always been the measure of what has
attracted me to guys…and they are both touching me,
sharing
me? And what’s
more, while I am tied up, defenseless, submissive to their hungers
and direction? Making me hotter and wetter than I’ve ever imagined,
even in my wildest fantasies of being taken, compelled, claimed.
Dominated. I never realized it was more than an occasional fancy or
that it could feel so good, so overwhelming.

Just before Quinn lifts his head, I
catch a glimpse of his velvety, wet tongue swirling around and
around one of my nipples. The sight, coupled with the tingling
pleasure radiating through my chest, makes me lightheaded. He
pinches both my nipples while tugging upward on them, clearing my
mind with the sharp contrast of sensation. God but the ache is good
as he slacks off on the pressure.


The games we play get
intense, Mel,” he warns me. I relish the quickening of his breath,
the husky quality of his voice, the focused desire gleaming in his
sea green eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you for a long time. I’ll
be playing for keeps.”

Blinking up at Quinn, I
only have a couple of seconds to process all the implications of
what he just said—that maybe he missed me as much as I missed him,
that this isn’t necessarily just a quick and dirty groping based on
a momentary lapse of judgment, that it gets
more
intense than this. Then Zach is
digging his thumbs into the cheeks of my round ass, prying them
apart so he can wedge his threateningly, enticingly huge erection
up against my throbbing anus through our clothing. I’ve had anal
sex before, and I liked it, but I’ve never taken a dick as big as
his feels through his jeans. I shudder when I realize I hope he’s
intending to put that massive cock up my ass.


I’ll see that bet and
raise you one sexy, spitfire,
shared
submissive,” Zach says,
nuzzling my neck while staring at Quinn. “You’re not the only one
who had a crush on her in school. I said it would be just like when
we were stationed in Japan, and I meant it. Only this time, we keep
her.” His tongue slides up my neck to trace the curve of my ear.
“You like that idea, sunshine?”

Drifting and drowning in my own lust,
I nod slowly, almost drunkenly. “Yes, sir,” I sigh.

Quinn pinches and rolls my nipples,
jerking me up out of my daze and making me fix my gaze on his.
“Have you been dominated before, Mel?” he demands. “Do you know
what to expect?”

I have to gasp for breath and swallow
hard before I can answer, and even then I can only force out words
in rough, clipped breaths. “A little. One boyfriend.”

Zach’s hand returns to my mound,
resting possessively there as he rocks his hips forward. If I
could, I would bend forward and rub shamelessly back on his bulging
hard-on.


What did he do to you?”
the blond deputy asks.

There’s a split-second of hesitation,
embarrassment, but I let it go as Zach’s fingers trace my slit
again under the crotch of my shorts and Quinn’s breath warms my
temple. He lays gentle kisses high on one cheekbone while lightly
flicking my rigid nipples with his thumbs.


Tied me to the bed. Belted
me. Cropped me once. A couple of times he made me stay naked for
him all weekend, wait on him, give myself to him however he
wanted.”

Quinn cups my face in one large hand
and grazes my lips with his again before he asks, “Did you like
it?” Straining up for a kiss, I nod. “Good,” he breathes. “That’s
how I want you—naked and waiting for me.” He pauses and glances at
Zach, adding, “For us. I remember how eager and responsive you were
that night right after we graduated. That’s how I want you all the
time. Always wet, always willing, eager and crawling and begging to
please us. Begging us to push you to feel more than you think you
can.”

The intense vulnerability of my brief
previous experiences with being dominated rushes back on me, making
my stomach queasy with anxiety and need, making my cunt pulse hard
for want of deep penetration and rough use. It was an effort to
push away the embarrassment and humiliation of acting so wantonly,
of enjoying being ordered to serve my boyfriend sexually, of even
being forced to do so a couple of time, with a safe word at hand
just in case. Here, now, with Quinn and Zach, the clash of emotions
is overpowering. Can I let myself want this, when my life is so
filled with struggle right now? Can I trust them not to hurt me,
not to use me and toss me aside? Not to leave me?

Then Zach’s hand is unbuttoning my
shorts, just as Quinn draws back a step. I actually whimper with
desire watching him as he tugs on the end of his leather belt,
unbuckling it before he begins to unfasten his tight jeans. His
member is so stiff and swollen that it strains obviously against
the crotch of his pants. I bite my lip in anticipation of the
moment he will push his jeans down and I’ll see the cock I’ve been
fantasizing about for so long, the cock he’s going to put inside
me.

Quinn’s ruddy, engorged dick pushes
its way up above the waistband of his white briefs even before he
starts to nudge them down his firm, tight hips. With one jerk, he
whips his shirt open to reveal a meticulously sculpted torso—chest
to abs to pelvis—worthy of a Greek god. His tool is no less
perfect, tanned, smooth, flushed, seated above heavy, fat, trimmed
balls. I want to feel those balls against my ass when Quinn sinks
his cock into me. I want them to pump my pussy full with his
cum.


Please fuck me,” I sigh
roughly, then hurry to add, “sir.”

Zach has yet to pull my shorts down,
so when Quinn steps toward me and grabs his cock by the thick shaft
to tease the head along my slit, I groan in frustration at the
barrier between us.


You’re pussy is so tight,
Mel,” Quinn says, studying my face as he taunts me with the tip of
his gorgeous, erect tool. “Have you been fucked by a big cock
before? Can you take nine inches up your cunt, baby?”

I’m still choking on my response to
the sight of Quinn’s long member, still distracted by the mention
of nine inches, when Zach scrapes his teeth long my earlobe to
claim my attention. “And nine more up your ass?” the blond
asks.

Feverish and lightheaded with want, I
nod. “Yes. I can.” I glance shyly from Quinn to Zach and back
again. “Make me.”

Quinn’s free hand grabs my shorts at
the bottom of my open zipper and yanks them down my thighs as I
moan encouragingly, urgently. Behind me, Zach shifts away just
enough to drag the shorts over the curve of my ass.

That’s when the radio clipped onto the
back of Zach’s jeans crackles and a female voice cuts through the
raspy murmur of low moans and panting. The dissonant call rings out
in stereo, behind me and slightly to the left from Zach’s, ahead of
me and slightly to the right on Quinn’s where he tossed it onto the
blankets with his hat.


Shit,” Quinn bites out
bitterly and stops moving. He lingers there, poised over me, the
front of my shorts fisted in one hand. I squeeze my eyes shut,
willing the interruption to go away, ready to cry and plead and
promise anything to get them to fuck me, to take me over and over
and make me swear I’m theirs. Quinn’s breath is still warm and
thick against my cheek. I can almost
hear
him…
feel
him hoping right along with
me.

When the voice calls out a second
time, with unit designations that are a mystery to me, Zach finally
pulls away from me and stalks toward the barn door. He answers the
call, acknowledging his designation. I don’t understand the
ten-code used by the Sheriff’s Department to communicate different
types of crimes and responses, but I get the idea well enough when
Quinn swears again under his breath and rests his forehead wearily
against my temple.


We have to go, Mel,” he
whispers, tugging my t-shirt down and my shorts back up and
starting to button them.

My breath comes out in a distressed
whimper. “No…please.”

Zach, looking uncharacteristically—but
thrillingly—dark and moody, clips his radio back onto his belt. As
Quinn steps away to get himself dressed, the blond advances on me
to lay a hard, deep, hair-pulling kiss on me.

He releases my lips to scold me,
“Don’t whine, little girl, or you won’t get a good spanking later.”
I suck on my bottom lip, willing myself not to answer back or
plead, no matter how insanely unfair this timing is. Am I losing
this moment? Will it happen again, or will they laugh it off later
as a crazy idea born of the heat of passion?

The disappointment must be clear on my
face. It sinks through me straight to the bone. Still, it’s
ridiculously comforting when Zach unties me and stands before me
for a few seconds, gently rubbing my arms and hands, kissing the
inside of my wrists where the skin in chaffed light pink. Quinn’s
kisses alight too briefly on my cheeks and my lips.


We’ll be back,” he says as
he wanders several backward steps, still facing me, before donning
his cowboy hat again and turning to leave.

Zach nods. “Count on it.”

And there I stand, watching them go,
then watching the dust motes floating in the light that streams
through the empty doorway. My arms and shoulders aching. My heart
pounding. My pussy and anus quavering and twitching in anticipation
of hard, deep penetration that isn’t coming. Not now,
anyway.

***

All day I’ve thought about nothing but
Quinn and Zach, the way they touched me and talked to me, what they
promised to do to me. Why didn’t I ask when I’d see them again? I
wander through the chores around the ranch, mumble and daydream my
way through dinner with my mother once she gets home, channel surf
without really watching what’s on the screen on the small
television on my bedroom dresser. I give up, toss the remote down
on the lacy white quilt that’s been on my bed since I was a kid,
and lean on the open window sill. The sunset outlines the barn in a
brilliant blur of purple and orange. The memories of what happened
there today make my stomach flutter and my breath catch painfully
in my throat.

BOOK: Bridled: Bitter Creek Doms #1
8.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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