Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

by Michele Zurlo

  An impish grin played on her lips and wrinkled her nose. “To bed, definitely, but not to sleep. Did you want to take him while he’s taking me?”

  “Actually, I want us both to take you. At the same time.”

  When I’d first met Sophia, she hadn’t been too keen on the idea of anal sex. While she’d been willing to give, she hadn’t ever consented to being on the receiving end. I was the only person she’d allowed that privilege. She liked it, but only with me.

  She’d never let me fuck her that way when one of our thirds were present, and I’d never asked. In her mind—and in mine—it was a dominating position. I was essentially asking her to let me top her while we both topped Neal.

  Instead of answering, she glanced at the closed bathroom door and worried her lip with her teeth. “We’ve never done that before.”

  “I know. It’s a huge step. If you’re not ready or willing—”

  She cut me off with the shake of her head. “I think this is something we’d have to discuss with Neal first. We’ll have to sit down as equals and talk about it. Honestly, I don’t know if I want to do it. I mean, I’ve never really considered it.”

  I planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “Put it on a shelf and think about it later. Tonight I’ll have Neal while he’s having you.”

  She kissed me, a soft exploration that spoke as eloquently as any verbal declaration of love. By the time Neal returned, I had her half undressed. He moved in behind her and helped finish the job. This time I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. I set her gently on the bed, and Neal and I worshipped her body with the glide of our hands and lips over her smooth, fragrant skin.

  I knelt between her legs and slurped her essence. I loved when Sophie dripped with cream. It slicked over her thighs. When I came up for air, Neal bent forward from his position next to her hip, and he buried his face between her legs.

  The first time I watched somebody go down on Sophia, it rocked me to the core. No matter what I had planned to do or how long I had wanted to draw out the action, that sight brought me to a screeching halt. Even watching her masturbate didn’t make me have to fight an immediate urge to come.

  I groaned and grabbed a handful of his hair. Jerking sharply, I brought his head up. He gaped at me in surprise—I think I glimpsed a bit of naughtiness as well—and I kissed him. I ground my lips against his, punishing him for unknowingly challenging my control. He responded to my brutality by softening into the onslaught.

  We tangled tongues. I liked that he participated in the kiss. In my experience, most submissives did not. They let me kiss them, but they did not kiss back. There was something extra sexy about being kissed back, about knowing I affected him as much as he affected me.

  Sophia’s musky flavor mingled with Neal’s tart sweetness. For a moment, I lost myself in him. Sophie’s moan brought me to my senses. I looked down to find her watching us, pumping her hips against her hand and the fingers she inserted into her swollen pussy.

  I pushed Neal’s face back down. “Take care of your Mistress.” I didn’t watch to make sure he followed through. If I did, I might spill in my shorts.

  The condoms were in Sophie’s bag. I hurried to the main room of the suite and grabbed a handful. When I returned, I saw that they’d changed positions. Neal lay on his back, and Sophie rode his face.

  He had his arms under her legs, holding her up and probably buying himself some room to take an occasional breath. One hand spread across the cheek of her ass, grasping and seeking, but she blocked his reach with the way she was positioned. His cock, purpled and throbbing, stuck straight up from his nest of curls.

  I’d intended to give him the first condom, but now I changed my mind. It would take too long to get everybody moved. I rolled one on and slapped on some lube. Climbing onto the bed, I pushed his legs up and apart, and I smeared the excess lube on his hole.

  He moaned as I entered him, relaxing to ease my way. I stroked his cock with one hand and planted the other on the bed to keep my balance. He was tight and hot, gripping me differently from the way a cunt sucked at me. I was close, so damned close. I resolved to hold off as long as I could, luxuriate in the sight of Sophie with her head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent cry.

  She faltered in her rhythm, and Neal took over before I could tell him what to do. This was an important moment for Sophia. Messing with the rhythm could derail her orgasm. She made a series of high-pitched squeaking sounds, and then she fell backward. I let go of Neal’s cock to catch her. He lifted her ass and moved her down. We set her on her stomach on top of Neal, her head cradled on his shoulder.

  And I pounded into him even harder. Every time I slid my hand to the angry tip of his cock, I gave a little twist. The lube had rubbed into his skin, making him even softer and more sensitive, but now my touch would be abrasive. Desperate moans tore from his throat.

  He was pinned beneath Sophie and coming apart. Two more thrusts and another jerk, and I roared as we both came. I directed his ejaculate away from Sophia. Nobody came on her or in her but me. We’d all been tested, but she and I had a strict policy about nobody but me coming on or in her.

  * * * *

  Sophia woke me the next morning with the soft glide of her caress over my cheek. I opened my eyes to find her smiling down at me.

  “Good morning, handsome.”

  I smiled sleepily. “Back at you, beautiful.” My voice was hoarse from sleep.

  “Mind if I go for a ride?”

  My cock responded before my brain did, probably because that’s where all the blood was rushing. She took into account the vote below my belt and climbed aboard. Next to us, Neal slept solidly. Briefly, I wondered if he’d want to join in when he woke up. Then Sophia slid me home, and I ceased to think about anything else.

  Her gentle rhythm took us on a winding path to the climax, but it was a pleasurable experience. The deep blush of her pussy hinted at the fact she was tender from last night. I’d pounded her hard after we’d flogged Neal, and she’d fucked his face with abandon.

  I licked my finger and circled her clit, keeping the pressure light.

  “Yes,” she said. “Oh, Drew, yes.”

  We came together, a rolling orgasm that swept over me again and again. She snuggled on top of me, and I traced a path up and down her spine. “I love you.”

  I felt her smile into my shoulder. “I love you, too.”

  “What do you have planned for today?” I wanted to talk with her about Neal.

  She groaned. “I have to meet with Heather, look through the books, tour the rooms.”

  “That will take all day.” I frowned. That was not how I had pictured the day unfolding.

  “It’s a working vacation. I have to work. This place is in sad shape.”

  “Can I help you?”

  She thought for a minute, and then she nodded, a small movement against my skin. “You and Neal can check out the excursions. Sabrina and Jonas said some weren’t bad. They liked the windsurfing lessons and the snorkeling boat tour. I don’t want to get rid of the fun stuff.”

  Spending the day with Neal sounded nice, but I would have preferred to have Sophie there. Plus we had established a protocol where we didn’t have sex unless the other person was present. Working with Neal’s hotness by my side was difficult enough. At least I had food creation to distract me. Here, the island’s charm only highlighted his sexy qualities. And if he got on his knees for me, I might come on his face, even without physical contact.

  “Can I tease him?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You’ll both be ready to burst when you see me. You can fall on me like studs in heat, and we’ll see who gets where first.”

  I wanted to laugh at her description, but I was too upset that she wasn’t going to be with me for the day. With my job as a celebrity chef, I spent a lot of time on the road. Since Sophia owned an accounting business, she wasn’t able to travel with me as much as I liked. I disliked spending my days apart from her, and I hated th
e nights. There was nothing worse than being stuck in a faraway hotel room imagining my wife in our bed and all the things I wanted to do with her.

  Neal groaned and rolled away from us. I didn’t know if we were disturbing him or if he always woke this way. When he’d slept over the night before last, he’d awoken to find Sophia’s mouth on his body. He sat up and stayed there with his feet planted on the floor and his head between his knees. The marks on his backside were gone, a clean slate for a new flogging.

  I threw a questioning look at Sophia. “How can he have a hangover? We didn’t drink.”

  She slid off me and went to sit next to Neal. She stroked a path next to his spine. “Neck hurt?”

  He shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.

  “Neal.”

  I heard the warning in her tone. I wondered if he recognized the danger.

  “Back off, Mistress.” He pushed her arm away.

  There had been derision and disrespect in his tone. Nothing triggered Sophie’s Domme instincts like a bratty sub. In three seconds, Sophia had him bent over the side of the bed with his arm pinned behind his back and her knee pressed into his lower back. She grabbed a handful of his silky hair and yanked back on his head. He looked a little stunned. No doubt he hadn’t expected the beautiful naked woman in his bed to throw down like that.

  I chuckled and rolled onto my side to better enjoy the show. “Neal, did you know that Sophie teaches martial arts in her spare time?”

  She also disliked subs who were constantly bratty. Neal had acted like this once before, though he’d stopped quickly. I hoped this wouldn’t happen again.

  He didn’t say anything through his clenched teeth. His chest heaved and his obstinate gaze was pointed at Sophia.

  “What do you need?” She asked the question calmly, surprising us both with her gentleness.

  “To use the bathroom.” He tried for a growl, but she’d calmed him more than I’d thought possible. The snarl fell from his features, and his body relaxed the slightest bit.

  She squeezed a handful of his hair, pulling it harder. “Tell me what you need.”

  A sheen coated his eyes. I felt for him, and I wondered if I should intervene. Mentally I ran through a list of his hard limits. He’d said that too much pain was a punishment, and I wondered if she was crossing a line.

  “Discipline.” This time, he managed the growl.

  She dropped his head and backed away. “You have a half hour to see to your personal needs, and that includes eating something. Then I will discipline you.”

  Neal lumbered to his feet, a furious shade of red staining his chest and his lips pressed together. He nodded.

  “Use the other bathroom. In thirty minutes, I expect to find you kneeling and holding the instrument you’ve chosen. My bag is next to the sofa.”

  He left the room, and I turned to her with more questions tumbling from my mouth than I could utter. Nothing that came out made sense.

  “Subdrop. We did things that pumped him full of endorphins and serotonin. He needs us to set him back on an even keel. From the way he answered me, he’s been through this before.”

  I pointed to the door Neal had so thoughtfully closed. “So when he behaves out of character, that means he needs discipline? He said he doesn’t like discipline for the sake of it. That was a hard limit.”

  “No, he said that too much pain was a punishment. That wasn’t a limit, but a warning against us going too far.”

  “How do you know this isn’t too far?”

  “I’m taking my cues from him,” she said. Opening a drawer, she selected underclothes. “Dominating somebody isn’t an exact science. I’m going on intuition and body language. When he tells me that he needs discipline, I have to think he was asking for it. If he had said cuddling, we’d all still be in bed.”

  I snorted. “He’s not going to ask to cuddle.” Neal might swing both ways, but he had a definite masculinity about him and a vulnerability he tried fiercely to hide.

  She took my hand and led me into the bathroom. I got the shower going. Once we were both under the warm spray, she slipped her arms around me.

  “Some subs get clingy after a scene. You’ve seen it happen.”

  I had. Livia had asked to become our sex slave on multiple occasions, going so far as to beg and plead. It had always happened after a scene. I hated clingy people, and I had been in the habit of leaving the mess for Sophia to clean up. Now I saw her behavior in a new light, and I realized that once again I was letting Sophia clean up a sub’s emotional mess.

  “Are you going to spank him?”

  She was in the process of lathering up her hair. “If he chooses a paddle. Whatever it is, it won’t be erotic. We need to give him time to put last night in perspective. It’s probably a good thing that you’re just going to hang out today. Try to get him to talk about last night if you can.”

  I watched the suds break free of her hair and slide down her slick body. As alluring as she looked all wet like this, sex in the shower had never appealed to me. I harbored too much fear that she’d slip and fall. The idea of anything happening to Sophia terrified me, and terror didn’t make me horny.

  We finished up and for the first time ever, I hurried my ritual. I liked my hair fixed a certain way, but Sophia frequently said she liked when I left it alone. Today was as a good day to test that theory.

  I found Neal alone in the kitchenette eating a banana and sipping coffee. He wore jeans, leaving his chest and feet bare. Droplets of water glistened from his hair and the middle of his back. “Where’s Sophie?”

  He nodded at the patio, and I looked through the sliding glass door. She was sitting on a chair facing the ocean. A breeze acted as nature’s blow dryer, tugging at the ends of her wet hair.

  I poured myself a mug of java. “Thanks for making coffee.”

  He grunted.

  “How are you?”

  He shoved the rest of the banana into his mouth and pitched the peel into the trash. “That’s really not something you should ask until afterward.”

  While I recognized the fact that he wasn’t new to being a submissive, and I was definitely new to topping him, I didn’t react well to his tone or the fact that he had yet to look at me. “You really do want a punishment, don’t you?”

  He exhaled a long breath. “Discipline. It’s not the same thing.”

  “How so?”

  He shot me a long-suffering look and unbuttoned his jeans. Wordlessly he selected a paddle from Sophia’s bag and threw his jeans over the back of the sofa. Then he knelt with his knees spread, his head bowed, and the paddle on his upraised palms. I had the urge to take that thing and paddle his ass for ignoring me.

  The heavy glass slid open, and Sophia entered. She rinsed out her mug and gave me a kiss on the cheek, all without seeming to notice the naked man kneeling next to the sofa offering her a paddle to use on him.

  “How is discipline different from a punishment?”

  She spread her hands as she thought. I loved watching the wheels turn in her head. It got her Italian heritage going, though where her father and brother talked with their hands, she and her mother both thought with theirs.

  Finally she settled on a relaxed position. “It isn’t really, except in the mind of the people involved. A punishment is delivered for violation of a rule. Though it’s agreed-upon, it’s the purview of the Domme to decide and deliver. Discipline…it shows you care.”

  One could argue that punishment showed caring. I decided to chew on the idea for a while because Sophia had work to do.

  She stood in front of Neal, inspecting him and his choice. “How many?”

  “Seven, if you please, Mistress.”

  She took the paddle. “Bend over the arm of the couch. You’re going to need leverage. This is going to hurt. I want you to count.”

  Last night, she hadn’t asked him to count. She’d wanted him to enjoy it. Today she wanted his attention focused on the act, not the sensations. It still didn’t
settle my question.

  She swatted him hard, also a difference from the night before because she hadn’t warmed him up. He counted seven. By the time she finished, his ass was a fiery shade of hot pink, though I doubted it would linger for long or bruise.

  “There is some arnica on the counter in my bathroom. I’m going to make breakfast. I want you on the sofa, lying down with your head in Drew’s lap.”

  He left and she turned to me. “You’re right. He does need some cuddling, but we can’t force it on him. Do you want an omelet? I noticed fresh veggies in the mini-fridge.”

  “Sounds delicious.” I sat on one end of the sofa and grabbed the TV remote. In several interviews, people have asked me if I do all the cooking. Since I happen to be married to a great cook, I happily answer that I do not. I loved having Sophie cook for me almost as much as I loved cooking for her.

  Neal came out a few minutes later—still naked—and sprawled on the sofa with his head in my lap. I let him be for a few minutes, the wet from his hair soaking into the cotton of my shorts, and then I began stroking his hair back from his temples.

  He closed his eyes, let out a stuttering breath, and all the tension seemed to melt from his bones. I glanced over, caught Sophia’s eye, and gave her a thumbs-up. The stiffness in her shoulders vanished too, and I realized her nonchalant demeanor had been a front.

  My heart ached for both of them.

  As we were finishing up our omelets—stellar, by the way—I noticed that Sophie’s mind had turned to business matters. That meant she frowned and pursed her lips and checked the calendar on her phone.

  “Mistress, is anything wrong?”

  She shook her head without looking up. I took her phone away. She knew I hated when she was on that thing during meals, so she didn’t protest.

  I fielded Neal’s question. “Sophia is working today, so she’s already thinking about all the shit she has to do. The inside of her brain is now one huge to-do list.”

  He opened his mouth, probably to protest, and then closed it again. He took a sip of his orange juice. “What are Chef and I doing today?”