Replay Book 7: Wing Men

by Nia Farrell

  “We’re nearly at the resort,” Alex grated. “For Christ’s sake, Chezhekov, finish up and let me have that mouth of hers.”

  “You hear Alexei? Finish me, lisička. Da.” Dmitry jacked his hips, pumping in earnest, using her mouth while a litany of Russian escaped his own. Breath hissed from between his clenched teeth. His cock swelled and his balls tightened, signaling his imminent release. With a guttural cry, he thrust into her mouth, shooting streams of cum across her tongue, against her palate, and down her throat. She struggled to swallow it all.

  Alex grasped her biceps and pulled her off of Dmitry, releasing his cock with an audible pop. Rather than dragging her back to the other side, he took an empty spot down from the Russian, crooked his finger, and started stroking his slickened length.

  Lara crawled to where he sat, waiting for her to finish him. It didn’t take long. She gave him a taste of her deep-throat technique, then let him ravage her face, moaning when he achieved his release and poured himself into her hungry mouth. When she had drained him dry, she sat back on her heels and put a hand on each man’s closest thigh.

  “Jesus.” Alex coughed and exhaled a deep, cleansing breath. “Come here, woman.”

  They pulled her up to sit between them. Alex cupped her cheek, turned her face to meet his, and pressed a tender kiss upon her lips. Not to be left out, Dmitry fisted her hair and pulled her to him, claiming her mouth in a ravishing kiss, driving his tongue into her mouth, and tasting the three of them together.

  The limo pulled to a halt just then, hitting the pause button on their play. “Dmitry, keep our girl warm whilst I see to our accommodations, hmm?”

  Dmitry nodded, never breaking the kiss. Lara clung to the lapels of his suitcoat and reveled in his mastery.

  A discreet knock on the window alerted them to Alex’s return. Sighing, Dmitry rebuttoned his pants and smoothed Lara’s hair for her. She straightened her gown, hoping that she didn’t look like she’d taken on two Doms in the back of a limo.

  Lara let the two men help her from the car and into a waiting golf cart. Emblazoned with the Paradiso Luxury Resort logo and loaded with their luggage, it was driven by one of Paradiso’s staff members. Raphael smiled politely and welcomed them to the resort. He didn’t blink at their threesome. If he had any objections, he was too well trained to voice them.

  There was no trace of censure in Raphael’s eyes. She wished that her family would be as accepting, but she knew them too well. As much as she loved her parents, she couldn’t deny that they were conservative to a fault, judgmental, slow to change, and slower to forgive.

  What would they think of Alex and Dmitry?

  Lara had never introduced her family to one lover, let alone two. Long ago, she had learned to keep her private life just that and to practice what Shakespeare preached.

  To thine own self be true.

  That’s exactly what she planned to do tonight.

  Chapter Ten

  They were taken to a secluded beach-front luxury cottage with an eat-in kitchen, a living room with a wet bar, and a California king-sized bed. The en-suite featured a huge jetted tub and a steam shower that would easily accommodate the three of them.

  Patio doors led to an outdoor deck with a hot tub. An infinity pool seemed to merge with the salt water below. The men couldn’t have chosen a more perfect place to express their desires and explore their passions.

  Alex tipped their driver and locked the door, enclosing the three of them inside their private sanctuary. The only sound were the ocean waves, their breaths, and the quickened beat of her heart.

  They ordered Lara to strip and kneel by the sofa on the small pillow that they allowed to spare her knees. The Doms wasted no time in transforming the space into a dungeon. A portable St. Andrew’s cross was mounted over the now-closed bathroom door. A coffee table held a small catalog’s worth of toys—four leather cuffs, a blindfold, bondage tape, hanks of colored rope, vibrators, dildos, anal plugs (one with a fox tail), chain-linked clamps, paddles, floggers, crops, canes, condoms, and lube. Lots of lube.

  When they were done, both men sat on the sofa.

  Alex spoke first. “We talked about your limits earlier today. What we need from you now are your safewords—one to slow down, one to stop the play. What are your words, Lara?”

  Knowing that they’d be needed, she had given it some thought. “Tennyson to slow. Tolstoy to stop.” If nothing else, the men would remember the British and Russian authors by their nationalities. Alex was a slow burn to Dmitry’s explosive chemistry.

  “Those will work,” Alex agreed. “Repeat them, please.”

  “Tennyson to slow. Tolstoy to stop.”

  It was Dmitry’s turn to speak. He motioned to the table beside her. “Pick,” he said. “What you wish to start?”

  “Is there a limit, Ser?”

  “Nyet.”

  “Well, then. Can we start with the flogger, the nipple clamps, the leather cuffs, and the St. Andrew’s cross? Maybe add a vibrator, rope, the lube, and whatever else pleases you when we move to the bed?”

  If she only had one night with them, she intended to make it memorable.

  Alex nodded his approval. “Do you need to void before we get started?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Then rise. Go. We shall call you forth in five minutes’ time.”

  Lara didn’t have a watch, but there was a clock in the bathroom. She voided first, then washed her face and hands. A quick search, and she was able to brush her teeth, too. When Alex called for her to come out, the men were both shirtless and wearing black leather pants.

  She swallowed, hard.

  Alex’s chest hair was thinner, and trimmed to reveal the sculpted planes of his chest. He was built like a tennis player, all lean muscle and wiry strength. There was no manscaping for Dmitry. He was bigger, everywhere, not just his cock. His chest was wider. His arms looked stronger. His body hair was thicker, darker, longer. She wanted to thread her fingers through it—or better yet, rub her nipples on it—and see if his thatch was crisp, wiry, and deliciously abrasive or a softer, kinder cushion.

  Dmitry approached her, dangling the nipple clamps. Alex carried the four leather cuffs. Dmitry cupped her breasts and licked her nipples, using his teeth and tongue to bring them erect. Rolling them between his fingers, he fastened the clamp on her right side. The bite of pleasure and pain sent an electric charge to connect with her core and made her soaking wet.

  He pinched her left nipple, twisted it, and clamped it. He continued playing with her breasts while Alex put the cuffs on her ankles and wrists. Done, Alex pulled the bathroom door shut, the strongest position for hanging her, should they choose to.

  Dmitry caught the chain connecting her nipple clamps and stretched it out in front of her. Breath hissed between her teeth when he tugged on the chain and pulled her to the bathroom door. Alex guided her into place facing the St. Andrew’s cross, positioned her feet, and fastened them to it.

  “Raise your arms,” he said, and secured those, too. “Tell me, have you ever been flogged?”

  “No, but I’ve wanted to,” she confessed. “One of my girlfriends goes to private parties. It’s what she enjoys the most. Well, that and the sex with different Doms.”

  Alex stepped closer and whispered in her ear. “You’re in for a treat. Chezhekov is a master of floggers and whips. You look beautiful, by the way. Your arse is the loveliest shade of red. I can’t wait to fuck it. Dmitry and I are adding one more thing to the scene. An anal plug to stretch you out a bit and heighten your pleasure while you’re being flogged.”

  Alex took it from Dmitry and showed it to her. It was the pretty one, crowned with a faceted purple jewel. He lubricated her hole with coconut oil, spread more on the plug, and carefully inserted it.

  “Perfect,” he purred in her ear, sending shivers along her arms and down her spine.

  Dmitry stroked her body with the flogger, then stepped back to begin. His first strikes were light, the
leather falls slapping gently against her skin. Avoiding her kidneys and spine, he worked both sides of her body, varying the placement and increasing the strength of his blows. It hurt, and yet her body began to crave it. Tears streaked her cheeks as she arched to meet him. The pain morphed into pleasure when endorphins were released. At some point, she entered an alternate state, like she was out of body, back in ten.

  She returned to awareness, lying on the bed between the two men. Both of them were stroking her arms, shoulders, neck, and cheeks.

  Alex smoothed her hair away from her face and crooked a smile. “Welcome back,” he murmured. “We lost you there for a time.”

  Looking down, she saw that the nipple clamps were gone. “Because you let me off my chain. Did you try kissing me?” she asked, only half-joking.

  “No.”

  “Then there’s your problem. Holding back the good stuff when you should have been giving me sugar.”

  He cocked his head. “Sugar?”

  Nodding, she glanced at Dmitry. “And spice. And everything nice. Dear Lord. Listen to me. I sound like I’ve been drinking tequila. I’m not drunk. At least, I don’t think I’m drunk. Am I?”

  “It’s the subspace,” Alex chuckled. “You’re still coming out of it.”

  “Mmm. Whatever it is, I like it. Feels good. Like warm fuzzies. Speaking of which…”

  Lara rolled on her side and buried her face in Dmitry’s chest. “Ooh. You’re soft. My Russian bear.” Threading her fingers through his chest hair, she found his pierced nipple. A quick check verified that his other one matched. “You have barbells,” she gushed. “I think barbells are sexy as fuck. How the hell did I miss those? Do you have any tattoos? If not, you need—”

  Dmitry shut her up with a soul-stealing kiss. “I need to fuck,” he rumbled. “No condom. Skin to skin. Say yes.”

  “Say yes, Ser,” she giggled, then gasped as Dmitry hooked her leg over his arm, found her opening, and started to push his way inside. Given the disparity in their sizes, he had to work for every inch, stretching her out and barely giving her body time to adjust before forging in deeper.

  Hitting bottom brought her painfully back to full awareness. “God, you’re too big!” she grated between clenched teeth. “It’s too much. I can’t—”

  The next thing she knew, Dmitry had turned her with him, so that he was lying on his back, with her on top of him, still joined. “Ride,” he ordered. His calloused hands let go of her hips, freeing her to move. They slid up her body and lay claim to her breasts.

  She moaned at the sensations. Dmitry’s meaty girth, his bruising grip, the way he tormented her nipples. After she’d managed to take more of him in, he grasped her hips and took control, driving into her while her juices flowed. Changing his angle, he hit her G-spot and ripped an orgasm from her, then another.

  Alex stood by the bed, fisting himself and watching them fuck. Lara locked her gaze on his erection and licked her lips in silent invitation.

  Alex accepted.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alex climbed onto the bed and knelt near Lara’s head.

  Parting her lips, she leaned towards him, trying to hold her head still while he guided his erection into her mouth. Alex fisted her hair to take what control he could, but Dmitry’s primal claiming made finding his rhythm a challenge.

  After a time, he pulled out of her mouth and forced her face up to meet his. He kissed her, tongues tangling as he slid his one hand south. His tap on the anal plug sent shock waves through her system.

  She whimpered, wanting more.

  “Please,” she begged him. “Oh, please…”

  One more kiss, and he left them briefly, returning with everything that he would need. He set the towels, wet washcloths, and lube to the side and palmed her reddened ass, feeling its flex and play as Dmitry jackhammered into her. Grasping the base of the anal plug, he fucked her with it, then pulled it free, tossing it on a fingertip towel. He added more lube to her hole, slickened himself, and set the lube aside.

  Alex bracketed Dmitry’s thighs with his knees. Pressing on her low back, he urged her to lie flatter against Dmitry, who had gentled his strokes when he saw that Alex was joining them. The next thing she felt was Alex’s glans, pressing against her anus, seeking entry and gaining it.

  Yes!

  Pushing past the rings of muscle, he forged his way inside, until he was buried in her ass to the base of his cock. “Fuck,” he grated, grasping the flare of her waist. He started to move, short strokes at first, then longer, harder, deeper. “Look at her, Dmitry,” he growled. “She’s able to take us both. Perfect. Fucking perfect.”

  Dmitry agreed, squeezing her breasts and tormenting her nipples. The feel of their dual possession had her on the constant edge of orgasm. Dmitry pushed himself up and sucked the tip of her breast into his mouth. His love bite sent her flying, waves crashing below, bathing them in her juices.

  Dmitry was close behind her, exploding in her pussy and filling it to overflowing. Alex ended quickly after that, blanketing her back with his front, driving in deep, and flooding her dark passage.

  They lay there for a long moment, locked at the hips. Being between them, possessed by them, was the most incredible experience of her life. She wanted to savor each moment of it and memorize every detail, so that once she’d returned home, she could relive it again and again.

  The three of them showered together, then made use of the hot tub outside. The crescent moon provided little light, but the stars made a brilliant canopy over their heads. Sex in the hot tub was followed by more sex in bed. Finally, Alex insisted that they get some sleep. They needed to be sharp for their last dogfight tomorrow afternoon.

  They awakened to a world made mystical by fog. Room service delivered a gourmet breakfast that they enjoyed while lounging in the pool, watching the mist slowly burn off in the sun. Dmitry talked about growing up in Russia and how different things were here. He’d lived through the dissolution of the Soviet Union, knew victims of the atrocities in Chechnya, and barely escaped fighting the war in Georgia. Putin’s reelection in 2012 had sealed his decision to emigrate.

  “I come to America. Meet Alexei. Now we have planes,” he said, ignoring how Alex had stiffened at the last.

  “Yes, we do,” Alex agreed. “And we have an event to get back to. Given the hour, I suggest going inside and calling Geoffrey. It will take him at least twenty minutes to get here. Longer than that, if he is not yet on duty. Either gives us time enough to dress and check out. Lara, we shall stop by your lodgings first, so that you can change for the day. We were so eager to bring you here last night, I fear we failed you in that regard.”

  “I’m not complaining,” she said, smiling softly. “This has been the most incredible night of my life. Thank you. Both of you. Oh, my rental car is still at Replay. I was going to return it this morning and catch the limo out to the resort. They’re giving some of us a ride back to the airport late this afternoon, once the reenactment is done. It won’t take long to change, but if the two of you need to get back, they can pick me up on the next trip in.”

  Alex exchanged another look with Dmitry and answered for them both. “We can stay, even if Geoffrey cannot. The battle isn’t until two pm, well after the buffet lunch has been served. We must do the preflight checks, of course, but there’s no point in rushing.”

  There was no sense in delaying either. The three of them got out of the pool, wrapped up in resort robes, and headed back to the shower. Dmitry and Alex took turns washing her, and she returned the favor, stroking them both to completion. She put on yesterday’s day dress for the ride to her third-floor room at the bed-and-breakfast and added her folded evening gown to her purse, coat, and sweater.

  The men repacked all of the BDSM toys and equipment in the suitcase. They changed into what they needed to wear today—a German aviator’s outfit for Dmitry and a British flying ace’s issue for Alex.

  A call to the front desk summoned their ride to the lobby, wh
ere Geoffrey would pick them up. While they waited, Lara enjoyed listening to the indoor waterfall and watching the colorful koi that swam beneath it. Alex and Dmitry remained in sight but excused themselves to use their phones. They spent the rest of the time, checking messages and texting.

  Dmitry silenced his phone on the way back to town. Alex was dealing with a work-related problem and spent the entire time texting on his phone.

  Lara spent it snuggling with her Russian bear and wondering if it was possible to fall in love this fast. She’d only had one serious relationship. They’d gone from friends to lovers over the course of a year. But she hadn’t felt half as connected to him as she did to either of these men. Multiply that times two, and she feared that she was lost.

  Thoughts of what waited for her at home were depressing. Too little work. Too many bills. But worst of all, a far-too-empty bed. Sharing theirs last night was incredible. Between them is where she longed to be, even if she had to settle for stolen moments like these.

  Lara held her breath and hoped for the best when both men accompanied her into the bed-and-breakfast. She had feared a conservative’s wrath-of-God look. Instead, there was curiosity about the three of them, a knowing look at her collar, and a twinge of envy when her hostess heard the men’s accents.

  Aware of appearances, Alex and Dmitry remained downstairs in the parlor with her hostess when Lara returned to her room. She changed clothes and repacked her suitcases to check out. She’d take everything with her to the resort, so that she was ready to leave when the day was done.

  Geoffrey ran one load of reenactors to Replay and picked up Alex, Dmitry, and Lara on his return trip. They shared their ride with some of the French pilots who had come to last night’s concert. Learning that they all flew World War II mock battles as well, she treated them to a few songs of that era, ending with Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” just as they were pulling up to the resort.