High-Stakes Loving [King's Bluff, Wyoming 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Fiona Archer

  Her other thigh was pressed against the table. One more click and she was spread wide, the end of her backside hanging off the wooden surface.

  Mike moved away sending a warm breeze over her center. A drawer opened, closed. She turned her head, watching as he picked up a slim cushion before he moved out of her line of vision. A soft thud hit the table above her head. She started.

  “Lift up.” After sliding the cushion under her head, he palmed her hair from under her neck so it fanned out over the pillow. Then he moved to stand at the end of the table, right near her exposed pussy.

  “Thank you.” But she couldn’t leave it there. “What other places? Is every piece of furniture in this cabin modified as some kind of secret weapon against subs?” She tugged on all four straps, rocking against the table. He had her tied good and tight. She puffed out a shot of air. “I might not want to be a test subject for your perverted ideas.”

  A flash of white teeth shone against his tanned face. “Since I plan for you to be bound and gagged, your opinion is redundant.” He ignored her outraged gasp. “And speaking of…” He reached over her head and then held up a leather gag.

  “No, I don’t want—”

  “Open up, sweetie.” Gripping her jaw, he pushed the rubber ball into her mouth until the leather panel pushed down against her lips, effectively muffling her shrieks. In quick moves, he buckled the gag at her nape.

  “Much better.” He gently swept back a lock of hair from her eyes, laughing when she pulled her head away from his hand. “Damn, I love your fire.” He leaned down, so close she saw the tiny flecks of walnut close to the iris in his eyes. “But take care. There’s a fine line between adorable brat and rude sub.” His fingers captured a nipple. He squeezed, squeezed.

  Oww. Oww. Owwww. Her low whine struggled to be heard past the gag.

  “Understood?”

  Yes. She nodded, her eyes imploring him to relent.

  With a final tug, he released the throbbing bud.

  A soft squishy ball landed in her palm. “Squeeze this for your safe word. It will make a sound. Test it.”

  He waited for her to nod again. She pressed her fingers into the ball. A high squeaky sound punched the air. Not something he could miss. Her tiny edge of dark panic evaporated.

  “Good girl.” The cotton of his T-shirt rubbed against her skin as he leaned over the top of her. A flurry of shivers spread over her. Warm breath coated her nipple. Then a wet mouth. He suckled, drawing the bud tight between his lips. His other hand stroked the inside of her thigh. Up. Down. Skimming ever closer to her center.

  She fisted her free hand, dragged in air through her nostrils. This would be torture. Of the sweetest kind.

  He’d planned this. Drilled holes in a table for God’s sake. Strapped her down. Gagged her. Not a man to be rushed. Evil Dom.

  He released her nipple to trail a line of kisses down over her ribs and then her stomach before reaching the top of her mound.

  The sound of a chair scraping filled her ears. She lifted her head, seeing him settle between her legs. His hands palmed her inner thighs, rubbing over her skin, stoking the heat firing up in her core. “You have no idea how beautiful you are to me right now.” His eyes shone, reflecting the emotion in the hoarseness of his voice. “As our woman, living here, I’d tie you like this often. Then I’d tease you. Eat you out. Make you come until you didn’t have the energy to whimper against your gag.”

  Her mind hazed. She dropped her head back against the cushion. God help her, he meant every word.

  The broad tip of his finger traced her outer labia, sliding an easy path coated with her juices. “How would that be, Reagan, to drive home from work knowing that your men planned to take you down? Maybe that night or the next. You wouldn’t know when or where, only that it would happen.”

  Her breathing increased, grew louder.

  He placed a thumb on the skin just above her clit and pulled up, stretching her hood without touching it directly. “You’d struggle but we’d overpower you. Restrain you.” His finger dipped lower to circle her entrance. “Tease you.” Two fingers now. Then he pumped inside her, stroking deep.

  The walls of her pussy quaked under his touch.

  “Mmmmph.” She closed her eyes.

  A rush of warm air caressed her sex. Then his tongue flicked over the very tip of her clit, circling the tight knot of nerves until it throbbed so hard.

  She squeezed her fist harder, digging her nails into her skin.

  “Make you beg.” His fingertips rubbed over her sweet spot.

  She bucked hard, her hips lifting high. Her eyes flashed open. Desperately, she cried into the gag. Her gaze locked with his formidable one. She searched for a hint of mercy and found none. With one last long look, his dark head lowered to her sex.

  She felt his breath a second before his mouth closed over her clit. He caught it between his lips and teeth, strumming his tongue over the tight bud. At the same time he quickened the thrust of his fingers, twisting them with each outward stroke.

  A flood of pure sensation gripped her from deep within, winding tighter and tighter until it burst outward in a blinding flash of pleasure. She battled for breath, for some tiny measure of sanity. But he didn’t relent. Instead he kept going.

  Pressure rebuilt, grew stronger, leaving her stranded on a tightrope of exquisite expectation. Pleasepleaseplease.

  He scraped his teeth over the very tip of her clit.

  She went over in a fervid, almost painful second wave of ecstasy, her body shuddering under the onslaught. The way he’d laid her out and made her so totally helpless all combined to heighten her pleasure.

  His mouth left her clit. A tiny hint of stubble rubbed along the top of her inner thigh. He ran his tongue up the length of her pussy, leaving a trail of tiny shockwaves in his wake. Then his face was over hers. He bent to kiss her forehead. When he spoke, the darkness of his voice wrapped around her like black silk. “That’s your warm-up.”

  Oh, God help her, she wouldn’t make it.

  * * * *

  Mike straightened up, keeping a hand on her leg as he studied his captive. She was a sweet, hot mess strapped down and laid out before him. Her eyes shone back at him, as bright as the pink flush in her cheeks. Her pulse jackhammered at the base of her neck. And her breathing? Fast. It needed monitoring. He’d give her a minute to calm. Should he remove the gag? No. He wanted to give her the full experience of having her control torn away from her. It was what she wanted, had confessed as much to them.

  “Reagan, squeeze the toy if you’re having trouble breathing.” He waited, seeing how her fingers tightened over the red ball, held it for a second, not hard enough to make a sound, then relaxed. Brave sub. “Use that toy if anything changes, understood?”

  She nodded, her shoulders relaxing further against the table.

  “You’re a pleasure to feast on, you know that?” Her furious blinking and squirming on the table could mean either embarrassment or arousal. He’d guess both. Her shyness made him want to hold her all the more tighter.

  He reached into his pocket for a condom. With deft movements, he soon had himself naked from the waist down and appropriately sheathed. Leaning over her, he pushed his cock right at her entrance, going in no more than an inch.

  Christ, he must be a masochist. Her hot little cunt warmed the head of his cock, tempting him to ease in further.

  “Feel that, Reagan?” He twisted a hand in her hair, tugging until he heard her soft moan of pleasure. “That’s what you do to me. Get me hard and ready to take you wherever I can. In bed. On the sofa. Outside, under the stars. And right here, on this table.” With one thrust, he entered her.

  Her groan, low and guttural, filtered past the gag as her gaze stayed locked with his. She lifted her chin as if begging him to move inside her.

  So fucking tight. Each time it was like he’d entered her for the first encounter. Her pussy clamped down on his cock, shooting ripples of excruciating pleasure straight t
o his balls. With gritted teeth, he plunged as deep as he could go, filling her with his girth. Then slowly he withdrew only to slam back in, forcing her muscles to comply with his demands. In. Out. In.

  He released her hair. Moving his hand to her hip, he held her firmly, digging his fingers into her flesh. His other hand plumped her breast until it swelled under his touch.

  She tilted her pelvis up to match his thrusts, drive him deeper. Her gaze turned bold, daring.

  “No, you don’t set the play.”

  He angled his cock, changing down to short, shallow strokes. Not nearly enough to gain her climax.

  Her mournful whine only made him harder. She closed her eyes and rocked her head from side to side.

  Time to give her something else to occupy her mind. He pulled out and then reached over her to grab the last two items he’d dropped on the table. Letting go of her hip, he lubed up the small butt vibe. Pushing it into her back end, his chest filled with laughter as her eyelids snapped open.

  “Never take your gaze off the big bad wolf, sweetness.”

  One twist of the speed setting at its base and the vibe buzzed to life.

  “Mmmmph!”

  Yeah, he was a bastard.

  He focused on the beautiful sight of her ever-widening gaze and entered her, pumping harder, faster. The tremors of the vibe fluttered over his cock like a thousand tiny kisses. Fuck, now he’d battle to outlast her.

  His thumb flicked over her clit, spreading her shiny wetness. Its ruby hardness peeked out from under its hood. Flick. Flick. Flick.

  “Reagan, you’re ours. Mine and Quinn’s.”

  A low moan started deep within her chest and grew louder, harsher. Her walls clenched around him, sucking him back on each withdrawal. The first rush of tremors raced along the sides of her cunt. The muscles of her inner thighs quivered. Then he felt her walls spasm as they gripped his cock. She arched her back. Her throat stretched taut as her head fell onto the cushion.

  His balls tightened, sending up a stream of heat straight to his cock. His lower back stiffened a second before he pumped out a shattering release. Every ounce of energy drained from him in a never-ending current of pleasure. His hands shook as he rode the waves down to their softest ebb.

  He took a moment to soak up the last vestiges of their joining before pulling out, removing the butt vibe as well. He made a quick check of her breathing. All good. “One second, sweetie.”

  He quickly tied off his condom, disposing of it before returning with a washcloth and a bottle of water.

  Reaching behind her neck, he unbuckled the gag. She had the cutest little frown, one that he could see she battled to keep from a full-blown scowl. Smart girl.

  She sucked in a lungful of air, seemingly more of a cleansing breath than a need for oxygen. Gags, like many other BDSM restraints, were fun to read about but confronting when first experienced by a sub.

  The washcloth was warm in his hands as he gently wiped her face then between her legs before dropping the cloth on the table. “There, little reader, all okay?”

  “Yes, I’m okay.” Her tongue flicked out over her lips.

  Which reminded him, she needed to be kissed.

  Mike lowered his head, angling his mouth over hers. Her lips parted, inviting him to take of her freely. Before, he’d plundered her body. Now he wanted to savor. He twined his tongue around hers, tasting of her in a slow, drugging kiss.

  Under his hands, he felt her shiver. He needed to warm his little sub.

  Quickly he released her from the straps. After easing the water bottle into her grasp, he gathered her up and then walked over to the sofa.

  Mike sat with her on his lap, her back pressed up against the side of the couch. He swiped a soft patchwork quilt from off the back, wrapping it around her, making sure her feet were covered.

  “Drink this.” He uncapped the water, holding the bottle up to her lips.

  She took a few hearty sips before her hand covered his. “Thank you. That’s enough for now.”

  Satisfied she was comfortable, he studied her face. Her eyes were clear, and she still wore a faint blush to her cheeks. All in all, pretty fucking adorable.

  He wrapped his arm around her, anchoring her in tight, purposely restricting her movements. “What did you think of being taken?”

  A faint attempt to wiggle free greeted his question. He wanted to keep her in the captive mindset without wrapping her in chains.

  “I”—she ducked her head, squeezed the water bottle until it made a creaky sound—“Ithoughtitwashot.”

  “Say it again, please. And this time look at me.”

  Her groan was barely audible. She closed her eyes and took a huge breath. It was all he could do not to laugh out loud.

  She squared her shoulders with the gravity of someone facing the firing squad. When she looked him in the eye, there was no indecision. “I thought it was hot.” She lifted her chin. “Toe-curling, banshee-screaming hot.”

  Satisfaction seeped into his body, lightened his bones. This was what he’d hoped for.

  “And the gag?”

  A vivid red swept up her cheeks. Her chin lowered a fraction, gaze dipped. Man, that was one hell of an internal battle going on in her head. He hooked a finger under her chin, raised it a fraction and waited.

  “It was…so much more. Like”—she paused, shook her head—“like adding extra bubbles to champagne. Not being able to talk back, to argue, reduced me to only feeling. It felt…exhilarating.”

  And this was where the rest of her sub journey started. Now that she’d had a taste of what truly thrilled her, there wouldn’t be any going back. And he wanted that journey to be with him and Quinn.

  “I’m proud of you, Reagan. I know that was hard to answer. That’s kind of what BDSM is about. It asks you to face up to your true desires, seeing if you have the courage to test yourself and trust in others enough to guide you and help meet those needs.”

  “And you want to be one of the men to help guide me?”

  “Without a doubt.”

  “And this wanting to be with me stretches beyond BDSM. You want me here, with you and Quinn, trying things out on a permanent basis.”

  “That’s what I said earlier.” He ran a finger over her cheek, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I’ve fallen for you, sweetness.”

  She huffed a soft laugh, her eyes dancing for a second before they turned somber.

  “And Quinn, does he want all that too with such certainty?”

  “I believe so. But you’ll have to ask him that yourself.” Mike would bet the cabin and all his wealth on Quinn’s answer, but his buddy had to be the one to say those words.

  She glanced to the side, the fines lines around her mouth crinkling as she debated with herself. “Okay.”

  “Okay what?” His chest tightened. “You have to spell it out if you’re deciding something.”

  “Okay, I want to see how things go with you and, well, hopefully Quinn too. I can stay here or maybe some nights we could stay at my place. And Marvin goes where I go. We come as a packaged deal. So there’s stuff to sort out, but yes, I want to see where this can lead.” She dropped the water bottle in her lap. Picking up his hand that rested on her knees, she held it tight in both of hers. “See, I’ve fallen for you too.” She swallowed. “Big time.”

  Fuck she was cute. He wanted to pick her up and twirl her about the room. Instead, he settled for planting a kiss on those sweet lips.

  Whether it was the surety of knowing he loved her or the fact she felt emboldened by declaring her own feelings, Mike felt a new confidence in her kiss. Her hands cupped his face, drawing him in near as if she didn’t want to let go.

  He could well understand.

  She’d agree to test the waters. That was victory enough for now.

  His next target was Quinn and whatever had him wrapped so tight he couldn’t sit down long enough to share a cup of coffee with him over breakfast.

  Last night, before they’d
left for Reagan’s house, Quinn had been focused on grabbing their girl, getting her here, and then convincing her that they could sort out whatever shit had set them apart.

  By the time they’d finally claimed their little sub, Mike could see Quinn emotionally stepping away. Whatever the fuck was riding his best friend, Mike was going to find out.

  Because there was far more at stake here than Quinn’s tender feelings. And before this day was out, he’d make sure his buddy knew the score.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quinn swung the ax down hard, making a clean split in the wood. The two halves tumbled sideways, joining the piles of wood at either side of the large stump he used as his base.

  He grabbed another chunk, balanced it straight, and then swung.

  Crack.

  The loud brush of boots over a wooden floor was his first clue he was no longer alone.

  Crack.

  His friend sat down on the steps leading up to the covered back porch. He stretched out his legs, aimlessly rubbing over his right one below the knee. “I see you’re making sure we have firewood to last into the next ice age.”

  “Noah sent over a delivery of fresh timber. Ours if we wanted to do the splitting. Seemed a shame to waste.”

  “And it had to be done now?” Impatience laced Mike’s tone.

  Crack.

  Quinn rolled his shoulder against a twinge. “Reagan was sleeping last time I saw her.” Kissed her lips. Her cheek. “She up now?”

  “She’s been up, well, more lying flat actually. Now she’s snoozing on the couch.” His buddy’s grin said it all.

  Quinn felt the edges of his mouth lift. “Outstanding.”

  The idea of their sub snuggled up in a blanket brought a smile to his face as he stacked the fruits of his labors on the already massive pile of wood stored under canvas next to the cabin.

  Mike helped and then moved to stand a few feet away from where Quinn resumed his task of splitting the logs.

  “That’s a pitiful excuse for a garden.” The other man waved his hand to the left.

  Quinn turned, studied the four weed-infested garden beds that at some time had once grown vegetables. Or so Gretchen had assured them.