Daisy, it appeared, had courage in spades.
“Unless, of course, you don’t love us back.”
Rory inhaled sharply, and the look on Chris’s face reflected his own shock.
“If you can stand there and tell us that you really don’t love us or want us, then by all means, go. Lusty is about forty miles that way.” Daisy pointed in a direction and Rory had no idea if she was telling the truth or not.
He met Christopher’s gaze, and left his own on the man when Chris met Daisy’s again, and then sighed.
“I love you both more than life itself.”
“Then sit down,” Rory said. “And start talking.”
* * * *
The irony wasn’t lost on him.
He’d just been given direct orders by his submissives—something that, four years ago, he never would have tolerated—and they likely never would have tried.
Christopher Lyons could positively proclaim that he was a different man today than he’d been four years ago.
He only hoped the changes in him wouldn’t prove to be fatal to the love these two—his family—had for him.
He picked a spot on the bed and got comfortable—well, as comfortable as he could be considering he was about to bare his soul. He looked up and met each of their gazes in turn. They all three were naked, and none of them uneasy in their natural state.
Three points of a triangle. Take away one point and the triangle ceases to exist. That thought, and the love he could see so clearly on Daisy’s face and in Rory’s eyes, gave him courage and hope.
“I started life as a child.”
Both his lovers laughed out loud, the humorous non sequitur catching them off guard, since it was completely out of character for him. He shrugged and felt the corner of his mouth go up in what he’d been told by one former lover, a decade before, was a shit-eating grin—a comment he’d taken exception to because he’d never been quite that kinky.
“I hate to break this to you, boyo, but that’s something we all have in common.”
Chris nodded. The familiar sound and cadence of Rory’s response was a soothing balm he’d missed in his life for far too long.
“I had no family, at least none that I can recall. I was left on the steps of St. Jude’s Church when I was two years old.”
“The patron saint of lost causes and desperate cases.” Daisy’s voice barely reached above a whisper. Christopher understood the reason why. He’d never spoken about his past. Not to her, and not even, really, to Rory.
“An irony not lost on me once I became aware of it. The church handed me over to a private orphanage. I was incorrigible even then, apparently, as I never managed to get adopted. The orphanage closed when I was ten, at which time I made the rounds of a series of foster homes, some of them a little more, shall we say, gritty than the rest. In my last one, when I was fifteen, the man there liked to relieve his stress with a combination of alcohol and bullying.” Christopher had never been fully able to banish the image of being beaten and left for dead at the age when most boys were carefree teens. He’d never spoken of that time, until now.
“Bastard must have loaded me into his car and driven me out of the city, dumping me in the middle of fucking nowhere. When I came to I was in a ditch, in the pitch dark and pouring rain, drenched to the bone and barely able to walk. I vowed then to never, ever, let myself be vulnerable again.”
Inwardly he cringed, hating to sound as if he wanted pity. He had never had any use for that emotion. Unsure of what his lovers would say, he dared to look up at them. Daisy’s expression held compassion, and for once she remained silent.
Rory said, “I can see why your Dom tendencies came to the fore, then.”
Christopher exhaled. Compassion and understanding were the responses he’d needed. “They did. I never went back to that last home, of course. I just got work on ranches here and there. I looked older than I was. I found the life of an itinerant laborer hands down preferable to being a ward of the state.”
“You’re a true self-made man. No wonder you wrinkled your nose at me the day I wormed my way into your club. You must have instinctively seen the rich-bitch genes in me.”
Christopher laughed. “Darling, I wrinkled my nose as a purely defensive gesture.”
“He wanted you on first sight,” Rory said. “And so did I.”
“The thing is,”—Christopher inhaled deeply, and then let it out. Just get it out—“I fell completely in love with both of you, and it scared the living hell right out of me. I’d vowed to never be vulnerable again? Well, the joke was on me. I loved, and felt stripped bare, emotionally, the first time Rory and I made love—and then it happened, even more so when you joined us, Daisy. On the one hand, I had within reach the family I’d always dreamed of having. And on the other, I knew that one wrong move, one cruel twist of fate, and I could end up alone again—only more alone than I’d ever been, because now I knew what loving and being loved felt like.”
“So when my brother came and told you I was using you and Rory and the club simply to rebel against my wealthy family, that I was really emotionally unstable, you believed him, because I hadn’t been honest with you. I hadn’t told you about them, or me.”
Christopher shook his head. “No, baby. I didn’t really believe him at all, and I’d already learned about you. His accusations, however, provided me with the perfect escape hatch, the perfect excuse for me to end things. I reasoned that it wouldn’t be the same kind of pain if I walked away. I didn’t really believe in my heart that we could be forever, because nothing ever had been for me, you see. And I thought that it wouldn’t be the same kind of loss it would be if fate tore you both from me.”
He felt again the anguish that set in barely hours after that horrible scene. He dared now to let them see the emotion in him. He lay himself truly bare, his Dom version of laying prostrate before them, of submitting to the lash. He didn’t blink back his tears, but let them fall. “But I discovered I was wrong. The loss was just as devastating, maybe even more so. I was wrong, and just too damn prideful to fix things then and there.” Christopher sighed. “I consoled myself with the knowledge that you’d left together. And I hoped—I prayed—that you’d be okay together. I knew you loved each other. And over time, I convinced myself you were both better off without me.”
“We weren’t,” Rory said. “We didn’t last long together at all.”
“I only found that out recently. Very recently.” He closed his mouth, because he didn’t want to say too much. At least, not yet. Instead, he looked at Daisy, and then back at Rory. He tilted his head to the side and decided to ask his woman the question that had been burning on his mind ever since he’d found out.
“So what happened? I thought for certain the two of you were made for each other. You sure as hell would make love with reckless abandon every chance you got. Why didn’t it work out for you, sweetheart?”
Daisy held out her hands, palms up. “How could we have possibly stayed together when our center was missing? We weren’t made for each other in the way that you mean, to be a couple together. Darling, we were made to be your mates.”
“We still are,” Rory said. “You said you didn’t deserve us, but you’re wrong. We love you and we need you.” Rory reached out a hand toward him.
“As our lover and our master.” Daisy also reached out one hand. “If you want us, then take us. Take us and we can move on from here, all of us, together.”
Christopher met their gazes and then stared down at their hands. He was being offered something so few people ever received in life.
He was being offered a second chance.
Chapter 7
Daisy held her breath as Christopher looked down at their outstretched hands. It felt like forever, even though she knew only mere seconds had passed.
Then, finally, he reached out one hand to each of them and took hold. Finding his grip surprisingly strong, Daisy held tight, and when Rory reached for her, she grabbed on to him, too
.
“I’m never letting go, not ever.” She knew they understood her meaning. Both men brought her hands to their mouths and kissed them.
“I used to think of us as three points of a triangle.” Christopher was shaking his head. “But we’re not that at all. We’re a circle.”
“We’re a family,” Rory said.
“Yes, we’re a family.”
“I love you both, so much. I love what you are to each other, and what you are to me. I feel so grateful to be here now with you. I need you both so very much.” Daisy didn’t care if they saw her tears. She needed them to know how very much she loved them both.
“Oh, God.” Christopher’s eyes were as tearful as hers, as wet as Rory’s. “I love you, Daisy, with all my heart. I can’t promise to never disappoint you again. I understand, as I didn’t before, how frail human nature can be. But I promise you, here and now, I’ll do my best by you.”
“Your best, Master, is more than I could ever have hoped for. Thank you.” In a gesture of love and respect, she kissed his hand.
“Rory, I love you. I know I never really said those words to you before. I guess there was a part of me that was content to leave them unspoken.” Christopher inhaled shakily, and Daisy marveled that he seemed even more magnificent to her now than ever he had. “No more, and never again. I love you with everything that’s in me.” He inhaled deeply and looked at Daisy, then back at Rory. “I promise to love you both until my dying day. And beyond, if possible.”
They moved as one, closing their circle, arms enveloping each other. Christopher turned his face and kissed her, his lips and tongue seeming voracious, as if he could consume her with his mouth alone. Daisy’s heart soared as joy filled her to overflowing. Arousal wove through the joy, and she discovered in that moment the true meaning of paradise.
Christopher eased his lips from hers and turned toward Rory.
Daisy watched, enthralled, aroused, as her men kissed each other. The first touch appeared whisper soft, lovers reuniting after years apart. She swallowed over the lump in her throat, and when her vision blurred, she admitted paradise had more levels than she ever could have imagined.
Because she knelt close to them, she could smell them, their elemental man fragrance combining to make one heady aroma. She swore she could taste the flavor of their mouths on her tongue. She laid her hands on their heads and combed her fingers through their hair. She kissed one’s shoulder, and then the other’s, and eased back, just a little, just enough so they could move and meld together.
They broke their kiss and both of them turned and looked at her. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Daisy’s nipples peaked at the sound of her master’s voice. God, I’ve missed him, I’ve missed them both.
“Nowhere. But it thrills me and fills a need in me to watch the two of you love each other. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
Rory smiled, and leaned over to her. He kissed her, a chaste, almost worshipful kind of kiss. “Do you have any idea how special you are? Not one woman in a thousand would be as loving and generous as you are. I love you, my Daisy.”
“I love you, too. I’m your woman. How could I love you both, and be any other way?”
“We need you to complete us, love,” Christopher said.
“I know.” And she did. But she also knew they needed each other.
Daisy recognized the look in her men’s eyes as their gazes met. They burned for each other. She believed that her two masters shared between them a love so pure, so basic and yet so intense as to be truly magical.
And she believed with all of her heart, that it was the love they shared between them which made it possible for her to join them at all, to be as one with them.
“I need to taste you.” Rory’s tone, jagged, spoke eloquently of his passion, and his love for Christopher.
“Rory. My Rory.” Christopher reached out and caressed Rory’s face, the touch so rife with emotion, Daisy felt her heart catch. The love that flowed between them glimmered like the most ethereal of lights.
Rory shivered and turned his face into his lover’s palm and kissed it. Then he moved forward, bending down, and took Christopher’s cock in his mouth.
The men sighed as if the most horrendous of burdens had finally been lifted from them. Rory’s mouth slid up and down Christopher’s rigid cock, the actions lavish and lush. A sound of total pleasure rumbled from his throat and mingled with a sigh and gasp from Christopher.
“I won’t last,” their master warned. “It’s been too long for me. Too fucking long. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”
Christopher had suffered as they had suffered, feeling just as alone, just as bereft, and Daisy nearly couldn’t believe the beautiful sight before her.
Rory lifted his mouth but kept his grip on Christopher’s cock, pumping him in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “Then I’ll drink your cum and make you hard again.”
Christopher slid his hand into Rory’s hair and pulled downward, directing that man’s head toward his cock. “Then do it. But move back on the bed and angle yourself toward the window. Daisy, grab the lube and the condoms and bring them where we can all reach them. And then lie down so I can feast on your cunt.”
“Yes, Sir.” Daisy only had to reach into the bedside table drawer to retrieve the items she’d stored there—in hope as much as in confidence. She dropped them onto the mattress within easy reach, and then she laid herself out on the bed, angling her body. Her pussy had been gushing almost continually since she first set eyes on her men.
Now she shivered because what she wanted most in all the world was about to become her reality.
“God, I can smell you both, your juices so ripe and tasty. And mine. You’re mine. Swear it.”
Ah, there was the arrogance, the command and the confidence she’d missed. “Yours, Master, to do with as you will.”
Rory lifted his head from Christopher’s cock. “Yours, Master. Forever.”
“Daisy, suck Rory’s cock and play with his ass. Let’s give our man a thorough loving.”
“Mm, yes, Sir, let’s do that.” She’d always loved how each of them in turn would be the focus of the other two. Demanding and arrogant he could be, but Christopher Lyons was also something more.
He was the consummate and most generous of lovers.
It took her only a moment to squeeze some lube onto two fingers of her right hand. And then, heaven, she gave in to her carnal cravings, spreading her legs for one lover as she reached for the cock of the other.
She’d already drank of Rory’s essence, but here, here lay bliss. Daisy immersed herself in the heat and the heaven of her two men. Egos and self evaporated, and they moved as one, loved as one. Soft and silky, a tongue lapped and laved, a cock twitched and thrust, and fingers, eager to please, plunged and stroked and centered and delved. Our dance, Daisy thought, as the symphony of sounds—their moans and groans, sighs and whimpers—provided the rhythm and the beat, and the mood and the heat.
She used her tongue to stroke and her mouth to suck while she worked her fingers in and fucked Rory’s ass. She’d expected the resistance, understood the grip of muscles not exercised for some time. She expected this was why Christopher had asked her to play with—
Daisy cried out in shocked pleasure, the sound muffled by Rory’s cock as she felt slick, lubed fingers caress over her own anus, and then plunge into her.
Oh, God. She shivered as the combination of her master’s mouth on her pussy and his fingers fucking her ass shattered her focus and transformed her into a feral, needy female.
“Nobody comes until I say you can and, yes, my loves, that includes me. Let’s come together.”
Every thought vanished as Daisy’s carnal woman emerged. She sucked and fucked and caressed, eagerly striving to please even as she was pleasured by lips and tongue and hands. She lost herself in Eros, a sacred land where the tactile and the emotional merged into something both real and ethereal. Op
en, giving, taking, she felt her passions swirl and dip, soar and snap and sizzle with white-hot fire.
Control became the most tentative of threads, a tiny string of will enslaved to carnality.
Christopher hummed against the folds of her pussy, and Daisy doubted that thread of control would survive another moment.
“Now. Come now.”
Thank God. Daisy’s orgasm erupted, her body responding to her master’s command before her mind could will it so, as waves of pleasure, of shivering ecstasy cascaded through her entire being in reams of immeasurable pleasure. She barely recognized the sounds that emerged from the depths of her soul. In that rapturous moment all she was combined with the hearts and souls of her mates to banish forever the dark days of loneliness, the years of hopelessness that had oppressed her spirit.
She gasped for breath and heard her efforts echoed. Her arms and legs entangled with those of her men. Her heart pounded, and she felt that same life-beat echoed in the body parts that touched and surrounded her.
“My God.” Rory’s words could have been hers. She could only swallow and nod, and only became aware that her left hand still held his cock and her right hand stroked the hard muscles of his ass when that cock flexed slightly, coming back to life. The thin welts so recently painted upon him barely registered against her fingertips. She knew the salve Chris had used had numbed the pain. She also knew that Rory wouldn’t consider any discomfort a bad thing at all.
Daisy felt a reverent kiss on the inside of her right thigh. Then her master said, “This time, we’ll be one flesh.” Another kiss, this one on her other thigh. “I’ll be as careful as I can, Daisy, love, but I need my cock buried in your ass. I need to feel Rory’s cock in your cunt fucking you. Your body is our perfect vessel, and I need to be there to know that we’re really here, and together.”
“I need that, too, and I don’t care if you’re careful, or not.”
“Daisy, you’re generous to a fault. I care, and so does Rory, because we love you.”
Love Under Two Masters [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 4