MidnightInk-epub

by MI

  Eli chuckled as he lowered his head to rub his lips against hers. “I haven’t yet,” he said into her open mouth, “but there’s a first time for everything. We’ll keep it simple, all right, chère? Red, yellow and green.”

  “Green,” she breathed.

  He caught her upper lip between his teeth for an instant before asking, “You ever fucked two men at once?”

  A tremor ran through her, and she could hear her own panting breaths against his cheek. “I haven’t yet, but there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Oh, ma chère, I bet you gave your momma a whole headful o’ gray hair, didn’t you?”

  “My brothers beat me to it, but I might have made her tear out a few handfuls.”

  He chuckled again, and when his tongue traced the spot he’d nipped on her lip, she sucked it into her mouth and teased it with the tip of her own tongue. The low rumble of his pleased hum made her shiver. God damn, he was sexy.

  After a long moment of that, he lifted his head and smiled. “Sugar, I do believe we’re gonna have us some fun tonight.”

  Chapter Seven

  Eli almost laughed at the spaced-out look on her face and the sigh that lifted her chest. Not me, my ass. She was as subby as Bart in her own bratty way, which required only a firm hand, a certain amount of patience and a keen sense of humor. Fortunately he was in possession of all three.

  He glanced at Bart, who was apparently as enchanted with her face as he was, and nodded. Bart unhooked Rhonda’s bra and skimmed the straps down off her shoulders, making it fall away from her plump, heavy breasts. As he reached around to cup them, Eli got serious about learning the sweet flavor of her kiss, tightening his grip on her hair and angling her head the way he wanted it while he plumbed her mouth with his tongue. She whimpered and dug into his chest with her long nails, making him wince.

  “Damn, you’ve got some claws on you, chère,” he said as he released her to examine her French manicure. “We might have to negotiate these in the future. I’m not into scarification.”

  “They’re acrylic,” she explained. “I got them just for this trip. Usually I keep them pretty short so I don’t puncture a glove while I’m treating someone.”

  Picking up his bag o’ tricks, he set it on the bed and unzipped it. “Ah, I forgot, chère—we brought you a piece of Kiley’s pecan pie.” He dangled the sack in the air. “If you’re a very good girl, I’ll let you have it later.”

  “Oh you’ll let me have it, will you?” she asked with an arch look.

  Eli grinned. “I surely will, chère.” Setting the pie sack on the desk, he dug through his bag until he found what he was looking for. He’d been hoping to use these on her tonight, maybe introduce her to a few of his kinks, but he hadn’t planned on Bart when he packed for the evening. He was going to have to get a bigger bag. “This ought to take care of the problem for tonight…”

  She didn’t say anything as she watched him fasten the leather cuffs on her wrists, but she kept peeking at him, her breathing deep, her eyes dark, and the corners of her lips curled in a little smile he didn’t quite trust. Bending forward, he began sampling her neck and shoulder with his open mouth as he carried her cuffed wrists behind her.

  He’d barely fastened them together when she reached back and grabbed two handfuls of the nearest thing.

  “Sure, throw my nuts under the bus,” Bart groaned.

  Damn if the little minx didn’t make him laugh again without saying a word. She was a handful, no doubt about it.

  “Are you complainin’, cher?” he asked, hooking a hand around Bart’s neck and pulling him forward into a hard kiss over Rhonda’s shoulder.

  When Eli released him, all he heard for a few seconds was heavy breathing, and then Bart murmured, “Mmm, no, I’m good.”

  “I figured.” Gripping Rhonda’s nice, firm ass cheeks, Eli tilted her hips into his hard-on, slowly thrusting in a delicious slide of denim against black lace as he kissed and nibbled his way across her collarbone. She went a little limp in his hold, moaning as she let her head fall back against Bart.

  While he squeezed and shaped her ass, Eli dragged his mouth down her chest, sinking to his knees to begin the delightful task of getting to know her lovely breasts. Bart fit himself into Eli’s game plan, using one hand to pinch and pluck at whichever nipple Eli wasn’t mouthing and sliding the other under her thong to tease her cunt.

  It wasn’t long before she was writhing between them, whimpering and then begging. “Please, God, please! I need to come,” she moaned.

  Determined to teach the pichouette who was in charge, he slid his hands under the band of her thong and eased it down to her ankles, sighing in appreciation at the sight of the plump, bare lips under a puff of curly dark hair. There was already a slick shine smeared halfway down her inner thighs.

  Leaning in, he inhaled the sweet, heady scent of hot pussy before licking an exploratory trail between her lips. When his tongue glanced across her hard little clit, she yelped and pushed her hips forward into his face, panting as though she’d just run a mile. “Please!”

  “Please, Eli,” he teased.

  “Dammit, you bastard!”

  “Watch it, pichouette,” he growled. “I’m not one for titles like ‘sir’ or ‘master,’ but I do ask that you show a little respect.”

  A tremor ran through her and she squirmed again. “Yes, Eli. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s better, chère,” he said gruffly as his dick surged against his zipper.

  He resumed his oral exploration, brushing light, teasing strokes over and around her clit until she was swearing, stomping her feet and making dire threats against his person, all without directly insulting him. Then he stood up, adjusting his jeans as he grinned at her flushed, desperate face.

  “All right, Miz Rhonda,” he said, “I do believe it’s time for your spanking.”

  She snapped to attention, her eyes going wide as saucers. “What?”

  He chuckled, his dick ready to burst with excitement as he sat on the bed and hauled her over one knee. Bringing his thighs together, he clamped hers in place and crossed his ankles to reinforce his hold.

  “No!” Rhonda cried, writhing and trying to cover her ass with her bound hands as she drummed her feet on the carpet. “Dammit, Eli!”

  “Oh yeah, pichouette.” He ran his hand all over her, from the dark hair rioting over her shoulders, down her long back to the supple skin of her ass and upper thighs. “You’ve got some beautiful ink,” he told her, tracing the EMS symbol on her lower back with his fingers.

  She craned her neck to glare at him. “You’re going to regret this,” she panted.

  “You asked for it, chère, and I can’t let a lady down, especially a lady with such a fine ass.”

  “I did not!”

  He laughed. “You’d better learn pretty quick that daring a dom to spank you is askin’ for it, chère, or you’ll be too sore to sit most of the time.”

  Deciding not to prolong the wait, he pulled her hands up and out of the way and gave her a dozen good swats while she yelled and cursed at him, scattering them out so both cheeks were a mottled pink when he finished.

  “Now that’s a pretty sight,” he told her, rubbing his stinging palm over the hot flesh before trailing his fingers between her buttocks and down into her pussy. “Ah, chère, whether you admit it or not, you enjoyed that—you’re drippin’ all over my leg.”

  The spiteful look she sent him over her shoulder made him chuckle again, then he glanced at Bart. The boy was grinnin’ like the Cheshire Cat. “Why don’t you get naked, mon cher, then you can lend a hand here.”

  Bart obeyed immediately, tearing off his clothes and tossing them carelessly between the bed and the wall before kneeing in front of him. Then he reached out to hold Rhonda’s lovely ass in place while Eli reached into his bag and produced another trick for her.

  “All right, pichouette, it’s time to get that pretty ass ready for me,” he told her as he lubed up his fingers.
She immediately clamped her thighs together, and Eli might have paused for a status check if Bart hadn’t told him she loved anal. Instead he grinned as Bart tickled the sole of her foot to make her flinch and then pried her cheeks apart with his thumbs, exposing her sweet little pucker.

  Eli squirted a generous helping of lube onto it and began working it into her tight opening. It didn’t take long to get her gasping and whimpering, and by the time he eased a second finger into her, she was begging him to let her come again.

  “Just a while longer, ma jolie fille,” he told her as he dug in the bag until he found the plug he was looking for and a condom to cover it. “You need to be stretched a little bit more first. I promise, I’ll make it worth the wait.”

  “We’ll see.”

  The muffled retort made him grin again. His cheeks were startin’ to hurt from all the smiling he was doing tonight, and that was a condition he definitely wanted to get used to.

  Once the plug was covered and lubed, he slowly worked it into her. Rhonda gasped and then relaxed all her muscles, letting it slide in with a pleasing minimum of fuss.

  “You’re a good, good girl,” he murmured when the flange settled into place, sliding his hands over her smooth ass again.

  When he and Bart helped her stand up, Rhonda stared at him reproachfully from under her lashes and he nearly wept with the lust tearing up his gut. She was the perfect punished little sub with those dilated pupils, tear-blurred eye makeup, pouty lips and tousled hair. Lord have mercy, he might not make it through the night without getting on his knees and declaring his undying love.

  Unable to resist a little more teasing, he turned her around and unclipped her cuffs. “All right now, chère, we’re gonna put you on display in that chair and let the plug do its magic while I get reacquainted with Bart.”

  She turned on him in the blink of an eye, shoving him facedown on the bed with his arm twisted behind his back, pressing her forearm across his shoulders as she straddled his hips.

  “All right now, Eli,” she said in his ear, “I have a few demands of my own.”

  ***

  Eli gave a muffled laugh. “I was just teasin’ you, sugar, but you gotta know that’s gonna cost you.”

  “Not if I don’t let you up, sugah,” she said with a smirk, her heart just about pounding out of her chest with excitement. And he’d thought she was wet before… “I guess Bart forget to mention I have some law enforcement training and teach self-defense classes one weekend a month.”

  “He did.”

  Bart crawled up the bed and knelt beside them with his knees spread, grinning from ear to ear. “I didn’t forget anything. I just thought you two should get to know each other without any prejudicing information from me.”

  “That’s gonna cost you, too, garçon,” Eli said in a dire tone. When he tested her hold, Rhonda twisted his arm tighter and he pounded the mattress with his free hand. “Oncle, oncle!”

  She eased up on the pressure. “Ready to hear my demands now, Eli?”

  “You got my undivided attention, chère.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Now that she’d established her control, she sat up and ran her free hand through his silky black hair, keeping a loose grip on his tattooed wrist—which would look even hotter wearing a cuff like the one on hers. “Okay, first and foremost, I’m done with edging tonight. You promised me fun, not torture—it’s been too long and I need to come fast and hard, preferably several times, or I’m going to hurt someone.”

  Eli jiggled under her as he laughed under his breath. “That was the plan, chère. Sorry, I’ll try to be more judicious with my teasing in the future.”

  “That might be wise. Second, that pie is mine whether you let me have it or not.”

  He chuckled again. “I can see that.”

  “Good. Third, what the hell does ‘pichouette’ mean?”

  “Mischievous girl, and you can’t deny it’s plenty accurate.”

  “Oh. Okay, I can live with that, but no more calling me names in French unless I know what they mean. In fact, no more words in French, period, unless you tell me what they mean, or I’ll start throwing around words like cazzo and coglione and stronzo.”

  “You won’t sit comfortably for a week if you call him any of those,” Bart said.

  “I’m guessin’ those are words you learned from your brothers rather than your momma,” Eli said dryly.

  She grinned. “You’ve never met my mom.”

  “Anything else, chère? That means dear, by the way.”

  “One more. A safe word isn’t going to work with me because I don’t wimp out.”

  “Sugar, using your safe word isn’t—”

  “It doesn’t matter, sugah, because I won’t use it, so no safe word. Bart knows when I’ve had enough and I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to tell, too.”

  “You mean like when you incapacitate me?”

  “That’s usually a pretty good sign, yes.”

  “I’m beginning to think you might be a switch, jolie fille.” Knowing he was testing her, she tightened her grip on his arm until he added, “That means pretty girl.”

  “I did tell you I’m not submissive.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  She sighed. “So is it safe to give you back the reins and let you wow me with your mad orgasm-inducing skills?”

  Eli snorted with laughter. “You better watch out or you’ll give me performance anxiety, pichouette.”

  Letting go of his wrist, she leaned down and kissed his ear. “I have a feeling you’ll perform just fine.”

  Chapter Eight

  When Rhonda swung her leg off of Eli so he could get up, Bart grabbed her into his arms and pressed her down into the mattress, kissing the hell out of her. He’d never seen anything more exciting in his life than the untouchable Rhonda topping the indomitable Eli. Good thing he was here to witness it, because it’d be a long, long time before she caught Eli that off guard again—they were so evenly matched, they’d probably spend the rest of their lives trying to top each other.

  And they’d both be topping Bart for the rest of his—they had to, because he wouldn’t live with anything else. He refused to settle for less than both of them.

  “God, I love you, woman!” he gasped when he finally came up for air.

  She scraped her nails lightly across his shoulders and purred, “You’d better, because I love you, too, my Tank.”

  Eli must have stripped off his Aerosmith shirt, jeans and sneakers in record time, because he landed on his hands and knees beside them with a little bounce, naked as they were—except for the condom he’d somehow found the time to roll on.

  “Move aside, jolie garçon,” Eli said. “I got promises to keep and sexual prowess to prove.”

  Rhonda pouted. “I never said you had to prove it by yourself.”

  “I wasn’t plannin’ to, chère,” he fired back with a grin. “On your back, Bart, and take the lady with you.”

  Bart obeyed at once, rolling over and pulling Rhonda on top of him. Straddling his hips, she pushed up from his chest and purred again as her hot, wet pussy slid against his hard-on. “Mmm, I like this.”

  “I like these,” he told her, palming her breasts and stroking his thumbs over her hard nipples.

  Kneeling up beside them, Eli cupped her chin and turned her head toward him. “I’m partial to this, myself.” He pressed a kiss to the little mole above Rhonda’s lip. “Been meaning to do that all night.”

  Then he engaged her mouth in a lush dance of tongues while he reached down with his tattooed arm and worked her clit with his fingers, making her whimper and squirm against Bart’s cock. The spectacle ramped up Bart’s lust exponentially. Fuck, this was better than any porn video he’d ever seen.

  Knowing Rhonda was close to coming, he got a good hold on her nipples and ground them between his fingers as he tugged. She surged up off him with a harsh cry, pushing into Eli’s hand as she came, and Bart just about came himself.

  “Yo
u are so fucking sexy,” he growled, releasing her nipples to rub his callused palms over them.

  Eli didn’t let her sink down again but kept her clamped against his chest, her knees wedged apart by Bart’s hips, as he went for the next level of her orgasm. He explored her ear and neck with his mouth while he pumped his fingers slow and deep into her cunt, keeping the heel of his thumb in direct contact with her clit. The raw image and graphically wet sounds were almost more than Bart could take. When Rhonda shouted and jerked in Eli’s hold, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and take deep breaths.

  “That was fabulous,” Rhonda finally said with a sigh.

  Bart groaned. “Please tell me it’s time to fuck.”

  The answer to his request was a slick hand gripping his cock and pulling it up straight. “Ride that for me, chère.”

  Bart dropped his hands from Rhonda’s breasts and clutched at the sheet as she sank onto him. Holy fuck! His dick, Eli’s tattooed hand, Rhonda’s cunt… It was a recipe for premature ejaculation.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose as he called up his go-to image for holding off—Mrs. Tutweiler’s tits dangling on the counter where he ate breakfast every morning. Mrs. Tutweiler was their housekeeper when he was in high school, and one day he’d come home sick to find some old guy banging her over the kitchen island. He was so traumatized it was a good week before he could jack off again, and he couldn’t eat in the kitchen for months.

  Finally the urge to come passed and he sighed with relief.

  “Did you think of Mrs. Tutweiler?” Rhonda asked with a smile in her voice as Eli’s hand slipped away, allowing Bart’s dick to lodge deep inside her.

  Eli chuckled. “He still does that?”

  Bart opened his eyes. “Don’t judge me, dude. That shit works.”

  Both of them smiled down at him and his heart contracted so violently it brought tears to his eyes again. “I love you,” he gasped. “Both of you.”

  “Aw, Bart…” Rhonda draped herself over him, hugging his neck, and he held her tight, stroking her hair.