BDSM Mega Boxed Set

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BDSM Mega Boxed Set Page 3

by Anita Lawless, C. J. Sneere, Roxxy Meyer


  “You like that, Rex?” I whispered as I dipped my thumb into a bead of his pre-cum, then I swirled this wetness over his shiny glans.

  “Oh, yes,” he growled. “Very much, little one.” His hips swayed backward, bringing him closer to my touch.

  Now he was relaxed, mine to claim, I drew the soft, leather tails of the whip back, then brought them down across his left cheek with enough force to make his firm ass jiggle. Then I squeezed his cock hard and dipped my face between his legs to lick his balls.

  He gave a carnal, throaty chuckle of pleasure. “Ah, little one, you’ve done this before?”

  I wore a lopsided grin he couldn’t see as I drew the whip away and gave him another sharp rap with the tails. “Maybe.”

  “Your skill shows experience.”

  I laughed and whipped his butt again, while I continued to milk his cock and tease his balls with tongue, mouth, and teeth. I paused only long enough to say, “You’re the first giant I’ve spanked, but not the first man.”

  “Ha! I knew it.” His back arched and his balls pushed against my chest when I whipped him again.

  I was tracing my tongue toward his puckered, pink asshole just as Logan entered the bedroom. He’d gone to Lowland Council Headquarters to give them the news of the ancient mountain giant’s intended ambush. “Rex, Janet, I have news—”

  Rex rose up on his knees and I turned toward the cage door to see a wide-eyed, grinning Logan approach.

  “Oh hell,” he said. “The news can wait. I want in on this game.”

  “Nu uh.” I shook my head and stopped him at the door. “If you want in, you have to play by my rules.”

  His smile widened. “You’ve got a deal.” Then he grabbed my hand and yanked me back into the cage, obviously eager to join the fun.

  I told Rex to suck his lover’s cock while I returned to my position between his legs. Once there, I stroked the feathery soft leather over his scrotum, watching him draw his balls up into him in reaction to the pleasurable touch. His cock twitched harder still.

  While I tormented him, I watched his husband bury his long, thick cock down my submissive’s throat. He took him balls deep, then swept his tongue out over the kneeling giant’s scrotum. The caramel haired big man threw his head back and growl-groaned out his pleasure. He fisted his hands in his lover’s hair and guided him up and down his shaft in a steady rhythm.

  I dipped my head back between my submissive’s legs and plucked at his balls with my teeth, then I licked from his perineum to his asshole, burrowing my tiny pink tongue into the hole until he writhed and moaned loudly. I swished the whip tails back and forth over the glistening head of his cock as I did so.

  He reached a hand up, balancing on one palm and his knees now, so he could fondle his lover’s sac, tease and pluck his perineum, while he lapped under the ridge of his glans. The lighter haired giant pruned his face, then his features relaxed under this assault of intense pleasure. He yanked on my submissive’s hair, urging him to suck harder and faster.

  Watching them made my lust overcome me, and I had to have them both right then and there.

  “Fuck me while you fuck him,” I demanded, my voice thick and throaty with lust.

  The giants wasted no time complying with my wish. The fair-haired big man took his dark-haired lover in his arms and positioned him for his cock. He groped his lightly furred chest and kissed him passionately as he impaled the man with his steely erection. As he pumped in and out of his ass, he narrowed his eyes to slits filled with desire and looked at me. “Ride him, little one. Come for me. Come hard.”

  Caramel eyes had turned the tables on me, taking control momentarily, but I had no objections. I went to the pair who writhed in wanton ecstasy and I wrapped my small hand around his plump penis. I worked it, using pre-cum that spurt from his shiny head to lube up the fat, veiny shaft. Then I teased him before I took his length, rubbing my clit with his glans until it tingled deliciously.

  I let myself stretch for him as I took inch after inch of his cock. Once I had him deep inside, I rode him, letting his slippery length rub my walls perfectly. His glans thumped and stroked my g-spot awake, making it thrum with wonderful pressure that built when I rode him faster, took him deeper.

  The giant beneath him reached for me as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. He kneaded my teardrop shaped, full breasts and pinched my nipples until I whimpered and moaned. The giant I rode dug his big fingers into my ass and pummeled my pussy with fierce, rapid thrust. I soon trembled and bucked in the throes of another orgasm that had me ejaculating juices all over his shaft. The copious juices trickled over his balls and between his buttocks.

  Moments later, I gave him permission to cum, and his lover soon followed, driving his penis deep into the dark haired giant’s ass and letting out a loud snarl as he spurting his seed.

  After we cleaned up and climbed into the massive four poster bed together, Logan finally delivered his news, “The council sent spies to approach the forest and water giants. They’ve gone in to try and win the conquered giants’ loyalties. If we can get them to join with us against the mountain people, we can all have our land back.”

  “If we win,” Rex added, a look of deep thoughtfulness wrinkling his face.

  “With our combined forces, there is no way we can lose,” Logan assured.

  As the big men drifted off to sleep, I worried about their future. War was a terrifying venture, and judging by the ancient mountain giant they’d brought down today, they were facing formidable foes.

  Something blue and wispy caught my eye as I watched Rex’s barrel chest rise and fall in deep slumber. I sat up between them as the giantess floated out of shadows gathered near the door. She smiled at me, at the men, and floated to the edge of the bed.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, before she vanished into thin air.

  I felt very cold suddenly, yet oddly comforted. “You’re welcome,” I whispered back, before I snuggled in between the giants once more.

  ***

  “You’re what!?” Rex slammed his fist down on the table, making the tin mug jump a foot off the wooden surface.

  “Really.” Logan paced and frowned. “You can’t just leave us, Janet.”

  Guilt squeezed my chest. “Guys, I have to. I made a promise to my Aunt Macy that I’d do whatever I wanted with that shop when she died. I can’t let her down. She was one of the only people who believed in me when I wanted to become a tattooist. One of the only ones who didn’t say antiquated crap like, ‘Girls don’t get or give tats!’ I owe it to her to make my own shop a success.”

  Rex huffed angry breath while Logan sat down beside me, putting a big hand over mine. “Then we’ll have to understand, won’t we?” He gave a stern look to Rex when he once more objected. “And you wouldn’t want to let your Aunt Macy down. She was a fine lady.” He flashed a knowing grin and I gawked at him.

  “You knew my Aunt Macy?”

  Rex protested Logan telling me more, but Logan held up a hand and shushed him. “She was a good friend, little one. You see, every so often we giants venture down below, and we like to get to know the locals when we do.” He gave me a lecherous smirk that told me exactly what he meant by that. “I found your Aunt’s bookshop on one such visit, and I discovered her love for a good bodice ripper.” He leaned close to my ear then and kissed the shell before he continued, “Let’s just say I made her fantasy come true.”

  I laughed as this new revelation sank in. “Somehow, Logan, I’m not too surprised.”

  ***

  Though I had been gone roughly two days, when I returned below I found only hours had passed since I climbed the gargantuan stalk. I spent my first few hours back packing books, drinking tea, and chowing down a turkey sandwich while I let the reality of my adventure soak in.

  No one would ever believe I was Janet with a beanstalk, but there it was, looming larger than life outside my bedroom window. Hell, no one would believe I’d spent a wild two days with two sexy giants, but
then, sometimes truth is stranger than fiction. And thankfully I lived on a corner lot shrouded by thick willows, so no one had noticed the garden monstrosity yet. But I did wonder how long that would last.

  However, when I woke up the next morning after my return, I was sad and surprised to see the beanstalk had vanished overnight. I gave a rueful glare to the big hole in my Aunt’s garden, knowing I would miss those guys. No option for returning above existed now.

  A month went by and I wondered how Rex and Logan fared in their giant war. Did they, along with the water and forest giants, successfully push back the mountain conquerers? I wished them victory, though I would never know the outcome.

  My tattoo shop was coming together nicely, and I planned on opening my doors for customers in one week. I was checking the tattoo chairs I’d had installed the day before when someone knocked on the window in the front.

  Quickly I went to the door to see who it was. I wasn’t expecting anyone. For now my shop would be run by me alone, though I planned to rent out one or two of the three chairs I’d had installed in the place to other tattooist or body piercers I knew in the business. So who was stopping by unexpectedly? An anxious, early customer would be nice, and I could book them an appointment.

  I opened the door to find a towering man clad in a dark coat and hat that obscured his face. Frowning up at him, I said, “Hello, can I help you?”

  He took off the hat and smiled. “I was wondering if you might have room for a pair of wayward giants?”

  I gasped and threw my hands up over my mouth. “Logan!”

  Rex stepped up beside him and I ushered the pair into the store. “What’re you doing here?” I asked, beaming at them.

  “Well, after we and the others won the war against the mountain giants, we decided we’d grown bored of castle life,” Rex told me, wandering deeper into the store as he looked around at all the empty and half empty bookshelves, the couch in the back, and the staircase leading up to my apartment.

  “And it’s been forever since we’ve been below,” Logan continued. “So we figured we both deserved a vacation.”

  “But we’d be happy to stay, help you fix up the place, run your business,” Rex added, trying not to sound too anxious.

  “Yes.” Logan smiled at me. “Rex and I appointed a young giant and giantess as new leaders of the Lowlands. We’re free agents without a home, and entirely at your mercy, milady.” He gave an exaggerated bow that made me chuckle, then his face went serious. “The truth is, Janet, you helped us heal after Kama’s death nearly ripped our relationship apart. We’ve missed you.”

  “Well, boys,” I said, taking their hands and leading them toward the couch in the back of the store. “It’s a good thing this place has high ceilings, cause I hate renovating.” I made them both bend down so I could kiss their cheeks, then I said, “You can hang out with me as long as you like, but I will put you both to work.” I went to the small steel table beside one of the chairs. “Now, have either of you ever worked a tat gun?”

  ***

  The Executive’s New Clothes

  Ethan snuggled up behind me and we spooned after our usual dynamite sex. He kissed my ear and I shivered, smiling sleepily as I nestled my head deeper into the pillow. I was warm and comfortable, and in a perfect world I’d never have to move.

  But this isn’t a perfect world, and my cell phone picked that moment to trill its Donna Summer ringtone—She Works Hard for the Money.

  Ethan groaned, and I wiggled my bare butt against his growing erection.

  “Hey.” He swatted my thigh. “Not fair. You’ll end up answering that, and—”

  “I don’t have to.” I turned in his arms and swept my fingers down his lightly haired chest, smiled up at his boyish Jude Law face.

  He stopped my hand just before it curled around his hard on. “But you will.” He smiled, and I tried not to see the disappointment in his expression. “You’re Katey Kitteridge, fashion designer and creative director extraordinaire. It’ll kill you to let it go.”

  I kissed the tip of his nose, ruefully edged away from his irresistible, lithe body and warmth. “Just ten minutes,” I told him as I bent to grab my cell from my pants pocket.

  “Right.” He grinned. “And pigs will fly this Tuesday, or so I’ve heard.”

  I shook my head and threw a stray sock at him before I punched TALK. “Hello?”

  “Katey, I need you at the office STAT.” My no nonsense boss and longtime friend, Lynette Perkins, had just ruined my morning quickie.

  “What’s up?” I asked her, casting an apologetic look at my best friend and amazing photographer, Ethan Whittaker.

  Ethan nodded knowingly and got out of bed. My gaze followed him to the bathroom door, not missing the guilt-tripping pout he sent my way before he disappeared inside. Before he did, I mouthed, “I’m sorry,” again.

  Lynette cut through my guilt, giving me details that had my heart racing and my anger climbing. “Blaine Devereux wants to personally commission you to make a suit for him,” she said in a rush, her usual calm, cool voice rising with excitement. “This is big, Katey. Real big. This could put us in the ranks with brands like Gucci, or at least get us rubbing elbows with them on a more frequent basis. This will make your name as a designer. You could open up your own house.”

  I tried to quell the anger rising in my gut. Lynette and her husband Jake were not only my bosses, they were my best friends. We’d worked together in the fashion industry from day one, and we’d gone to college together. People called us the three musketeers. I knew this was big—Blaine wasn’t someone you said no to, but I truly detested the man, solely based on reputation alone, and I had no desire to work with him.

  “Blaine Devereux,” I simply said, trying not to give the depth of my loathing away. “But he hates women.”

  Ethan emerged from the bathroom and raised an eyebrow at the name. He looked delicious, his lean chest still sprinkled with shower droplets, his golden blond hair wet and slicked back. Once more I regretted having to leave.

  “He doesn’t hate women.” Lynette snorted, bringing me back to the present conversation once more. “You can’t believe everything you hear from models and read in gossip rags.”

  “Well, I won’t pretend I’m happy to work with him, but I’ll do it.” I let out an annoyed sigh. “It’ll help me, it’ll help Well Dressed Man. We can’t say no.” I could almost see Lynette’s corporate shark smile when I agreed. One of the reasons I loved the woman. She was ruthless, but she also had an ethical compass. Like me.

  “That’s my girl,” she said. “I knew you wouldn’t wimp out. Oh, there’s one more thing.”

  “What’s that?” I asked as I fished a silver hoop earring out of my Brazillian thong.

  She cleared her throat, and I knew something I wouldn’t like was about to spill through the phone. “He wants you to live with him until the suit is finished.”

  I dropped the earring and nearly dropped the phone. “Say that again?”

  ***

  Well Dressed Man International is a business suit brand that my friend’s Lynette and Jake Perkins own, and I’m their creative director for it and Well Dressed Woman International, our partner company. We launched the brands five years ago, and in that time we’ve won awards for our innovative designs. We’ve been profiled for Apparel magazine and our fashions are often found in Vogue.

  But as I took the elevator up to our studio and offices, I didn’t feel the usual joy I did when coming to work. Instead I simmered at the thought of having to do business with an egotistical ass like Blaine, but this was about more than just me, and I wouldn’t run away and be completely unprofessional. That just wasn’t my style. Still, asking me to live with him while I designed the suit was completely unacceptable, and I planned on telling him just that. After my meeting with Lynette, I’d march right over to Devereux & Parker and tell him he could have the suit, but he couldn’t have me.

  However, when I entered Lynette’s office, I found I
wouldn’t have to wait that long. Blaine was sitting in one of the two ergonomic office chairs in front of my friend’s thin, transparent modern desk.

  He turned his smoky grey eyes on me, tented his long, thick fingers in front of his square jaw. “Ms. Kitteridge. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  I put a hand on my hip, wrinkled my nose, and blurted, “I wish I could say the same.”

  Lynette went into ‘smooth the tension and save the deal’ mode. “How about we take some coffee into the studio? I’m sure Katey would like to show you some design samples.”

  “No,” I retorted. The man instantly rankled me, and I couldn’t stop myself. “I have something to discuss with Mr. Devereux first.” I turned my focus on him, taking in that sensuous, pouty mouth, large eyes, cheek bones that weren’t too sharp but nicely defined. Steeling my resolve against his immaculate beauty, I continued. “I’ll design your suit, but there’s no way I’m going to live with you.”

  Not missing a beat, he slid from the chair like a sinuous snake and flashed an innocent look at Lynette, then at me. “But wouldn’t it make the haute couture so much easier? I can pay you all very well for the time, I assure you.”

  He was on his best behavior today, and it was unnerving. The Blaine I had heard about from many a source, jilted and otherwise, was never accommodating or compromising. When you had his kind of money, you didn’t need to be.

  I shook my head emphatically. “No way. I’m not living with you under any circumstances.”

  Lynette gave me that look that was part begging, part demanding. The woman knew how to persuade. She did what I thought of as her ‘faux pee dance.’ A shifting of hips back and forth that made it seem like she had to go to the bathroom, but really she was stressing the outcome and trying desperately to sway me.

  “Fine.” I huffed a defeated breath. “It shouldn’t take long to finish the job. I’ll stay with you until it’s complete.” When he smiled, letting the mask slip so I caught a glimpse of the predator beneath, I laid a firm hand on his equally firm chest and made him keep his distance. “But there will be rules, Mr. Devereux.”

 

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