Cruise, Samantha - Devil's Promise: The Garden [The Devil's Playground 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Samantha Cruise

  Megan took the empty glass from him and placed it on the bar.

  “Caleb and Randolph are waitin’ downstairs,” he added, her subtle, rose-scented fragrance tantalized his nostrils.

  “Wonderful,” she exclaimed, placing the warm bundle in his arms. “That leaves time to wish Reed a good night.”

  “Hell, Megan, I swear our boy gets better looking every day.” He kissed Reed’s chubby pink cheek and made a silly cooing noise that always gifted him with a smile from his son. “Must take after his ma,” he boasted with a wink.

  “I’d say Reed takes after his father. Eats a ton and built like a horse.” Her hazel eyes lit up at her deliberate play on words, slowly lowering her gaze to his crotch.

  Hung like a horse, even at rest, Devin knew Megan could detect the outline of his aroused penis snaking down his thigh. The concealed flesh thickened even more under her stare. When their eyes met, her saucy gaze was effortless to read. She wanted him.

  “Miss Eloise,” he said roughly, gesturing for the girl to take the baby. Lucky for him, the girl only had eyes for her shoes. No chance she’d notice what raged behind his bulging fly. Her eyes never climbed that high whenever he was in the same room.

  “Will that be all, ma’am?” The nanny promptly scooped the baby in her arms.

  Devin refilled his glass and took a seat on the leather couch in front of his desk, watching the bony girl scurry behind Megan like a scared mouse.

  * * * *

  Megan tenderly kissed her son’s cuddly cheek. “Please see to it he’s wrapped nicely in his blanket. He sleeps so well cradled in a snug bundle.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Eloise, backing out of the room, her head bobbing up and down nervously.

  Good heavens, one day that poor girl will stumble over a piece of furniture and break her neck, Megan thought, watching the nanny rush from the room. If and when that ever happened, Megan hoped Reed would be safe in his crib. “Devin, please make an effort to be nicer to Eloise. She is so good with Reed and has the sweetest disposition. I’d hate to see her scared off like the others.”

  “I can see right through your gown.”

  Megan swirled around to stare skeptically at all six-nine gorgeous inches of strength and brawn stretched out on the masculine couch covered in midnight-black leather. Power and might, rough and hard, Devin could be dangerous and downright depraved at times. At present, her handsome husband had a passionate glow in his silver eyes that sent a shiver of arousal from her nipples, down her spine, and straight to her pussy. Indeed, they’d come a long way from when few had dared call her ex-outlaw the Devil’s Spawn.

  “Expect to run into someone in the hall?” He sipped his brandy, slowly running his eyes over her body. His shiny, black hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail. The long tail draped over one burly shoulder was a dramatic reminder the man before her was no ordinary gentleman. In fact, there wasn’t too much about him that one could construe as gentlemanly.

  She looked down and realized the glow from the fireplace rendered her gown virtually transparent. She gasped in shock. Eloise had failed to mention the inappropriateness of her attire. Then again, she was at home, dressed for bed, and the hour was late.

  “What if the servants saw you?”

  “Unlikely. They retired for the night. Only you and Miss Eloise have seen me.”

  “Ah, dressing for the nanny. Is that it?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You know I only dress for you.”

  “What of Caleb?”

  Caleb was everything Devin was not. Rarely was Devin a gentle lover. She had Caleb for that. Oh, how she loved him so. Gentle and caressing, he whispered tender words of affection while they tumbled in ecstasy. When she wanted to make sweet, luxurious love all afternoon, Caleb accommodated her, drove her to a slow, steady madness with his thick, nine-inch cock.

  If she was in the mood to scream with each orgasm, a sharp bite of pain with her pleasure, Devin’s rock-solid, hot and thick, twelve-inch cock rose fiercely to the occasion at a moment’s provocation without fail.

  Fortunate to live in the best of both worlds, she loved every mind-blowing, orgasmic minute.

  “Caleb prefers me undressed.” She took a step forward.

  “Don’t move.”

  Megan obeyed.

  “I want to appreciate you the way Caleb does.”

  “Devin.” Her scolding tone did not match the mischievous thrill racing through her. “For heaven’s sake, you’ve seen me covered in nothing but soap suds. Why insist I stand here so you can gawk at me through this gown?” She brushed the side of her gown with a wave of her hand.

  “You have a fine ass. You should show it off more often. If I had my way, I’d escort you the world over bare-assed.”

  “Hardly appro—”

  “Take it off.”

  She shot a glance at the open doorway.

  “Worried…now?” His tone was rough, questioning.

  Heat covered her cheeks.

  “You said it yourself, servants are asleep. Caleb and Randolph are downstairs. We’re alone.”

  She bit her lip, glanced at the door again. The idea of being caught making love sent a buzz of lust from her pebbled nipples straight to her toes. Many times, Devin returned home to find her and Caleb in bed together. Quietly, he would sit in the corner of their bedroom while Caleb brought her to climax after tumultuous climax. Often, she fantasized of being a highly desirable sex goddess having serviced dozens of men, he the next patron waiting to pay for the privilege of fucking her.

  “You look disappointed. Would you rather have an audience?”

  “No,” she blurted, not altogether sure she wanted to mention her sexual fantasy.

  “Too quick. I know when you’re lying.”

  “Caleb shares our bed every night. If I want an audience, he’ll watch us make love.”

  “Randolph.”

  Megan froze. Her mind raced. With her robust sexual appetite, it was far from uncommon to have Randolph Sinclair grace her naughty slumber dreams. Sexual musings while awake, however, were thwarted swiftly and for good reason. As he was always visiting their home, overtly lusting after her husband’s best friend seemed slutty.

  His being beyond handsome didn’t help. What was worse, Randolph bore such an incredible resemblance to Caleb they were often mistaken for twins. Both men were a few inches over six feet, blond haired, and blue eyed. Curly locks in constant disarray framed Caleb’s deep sapphire-blue eyes. Randolph’s eyes were a soft, pale blue, and his hair fell in gentle waves just past his prim collar. From their chiseled cheekbones to their strong jaws, each angular feature appeared sculpted by a masterful artist, perfection in manly form. The same could be said of their muscular builds. At least from what she observed of Randolph’s clothed physique since there was hardly reason for him to disrobe in her presence. But whenever she conjured up his muscled body moving over hers in her dreams, it was similar to Caleb’s magnificent body, along with his superbly erect cock that never softened while she slept.

  Further inspection revealed subtle facial differences. Exceedingly long, enviable, thick eyelashes and slender, finely shaped lips graced Caleb’s features. Randolph had an adorable dimpled chin and lush, full lips.

  There were discriminating subtleties among the two well-built male specimens. Randolph possessed a gifted blend of charm, finesse, and confidence. Incredible wealth added to his captivating allure and strong sense of entitlement. She could tell he was aware of his sultry good looks and temptation to women by the way he exploited his exceptional talents to his best advantage. Based on the myriad of lady loves in his life, his reputation in the bedchamber was terribly scandalous.

  Whenever Shelby and Emma were absent, he recounted his latest sexual conquests to Caleb and Devin. Names excluded, yet lewd details whispered loud enough to overhear, they invoked erotic images of orgiastic couplings. She sensed that had that been his lascivious intent.

  The fairer sex by no means ignored Caleb.
A seemingly eligible bachelor with a shared medical practice in Boston and France, well worth a small fortune, he, too, was highly sought. Boston society remained baffled whenever Caleb, with his carefree attitude and boyish charm, discouraged female admirers.

  Speculation as to Caleb’s sexual preference surfaced now and again, a result of prowling mothers hunting for a suitable son-in-law, disgruntled by a letdown. Caleb did his best to keep hearsay to a minimum while escaping determined young ladies in the matrimonial market.

  Two men to satisfy every wanton desire hardly left reason to hunger after another man in the light of day, let alone the blatantly arrogant libertine. Lusty trysts were forever confined to her dreams. Nonetheless, the idea of someone new observing them in the throes of lovemaking started to manifest.

  “Of course not,” she muttered, trying to sound convincing while her pulse raced out of control with the desirable image of their nightly threesome witnessed by a fourth.

  “Were you secretly hoping he would corner you in the hall? Drag you off and make love to you? Would you like that, a new hard cock to play with?”

  Attentive to the fact Devin might not be alone, she questioned her unconscious logic behind selecting a frilly nightgown. Had she intended to incite arousal in Randolph if he too just so happened to be in the room as well? To draw her mind away from her flagrant imagination, she slid her robe from her shoulders. “If you want me to undress, I’ll oblige.” She tossed the garment in Devin’s direction.

  With razor-sharp reflexes, he caught it before it hit the floor. He sat back. His eyes wandered over her body. When at last he met her gaze, a sinfully wicked glimmer shone in the silver depths. “Randolph’s welcome home celebration is tomorrow.”

  “And?” What was Devin up to now?

  Besides winning at poker, she knew Devin found little else amusing at balls. Rarely one to dance, her husband took pleasure in watching men wrap their arms around her. The flagrant look of want in their eyes excited Devin to no end. Flirtation became a game that the three of them had grown to relish. A game they practiced out of town with men they scarcely knew. Victims, as Devin preferred to call them, carefully selected by either him or Caleb. Virtuous gentlemen easily swayed by charm but never bold enough to make real demands.

  At the moment, she felt like an unsuspecting victim.

  Randolph had returned this afternoon after several months in France overseeing the clinic expansion to include services for the indigent. His family was a pillar in Boston society and abroad. Everyone who was anyone would attend the Sinclair ball given in his honor.

  “Squeeze your breasts.”

  “Devin!” On the verge of losing her patience, she sighed wearily.

  “Megan, you’re not squeezing.”

  “What does Randolph’s homecoming have to do with anything?” Hands on her hips, she tapped her foot in frustration.

  “You two have never danced together.”

  “We attend every Sinclair social event. We’ve danced dozens of times.”

  Devin gave her that “think again” look.

  Slowly, it came to her. Devin was right. Out of countless parties, never had they danced together.

  “Dance with him tomorrow.”

  She opened her mouth to refuse, but before she could utter a word, he spoke.

  “You protested in the beginning, and now you love to play the game. So much so, you wanted to play tonight. Caleb and Randolph disappointed you by not being here. Now squeeze your breasts.”

  Her fingers dug into her hips anxiously. On a dimly lit dance floor, could she play the game with him? Ignite the famed libertine’s passion? Induce his fingers to caress her body with sly touches only to walk away when the music faded? At the thought of his broad body pressed against hers, swaying with the music, a flood of liquid desire dribbled from her vagina down the insides of her thighs. “Out of town, yes, not in a room full of people we know, and never with someone so close. Randolph is out of the question.”

  Devin emptied his glass and then placed it on the side table. He reclined back. His brawny arms stretched along the back of the couch, his massive thighs parted in a clear attempt to draw her attention to the commanding prominence at the center of all that rugged maleness. “Easier to go unnoticed.”

  Why bother tempting another man when an unrivaled erection was hers for the taking? She cupped her breasts. “Devin,” she said softly, caressing the heavy mounds of flesh in her grasp.

  “Your gown is wet.” His darkened gaze narrowed on her fingers. “Your nipples leak when you’re aroused. Are you aroused, dear wife? Is your pussy wet at the thought of dancing with Randolph?”

  Soaked with breast milk, the sheer fabric clung to her breasts. Her traitorous nipples extended beyond the drenched lace like beacons in the night. The material clung to her upper torso, revealing just how aroused she truly was. Perhaps being deprived of sex for so long, her body felt a need to catch up, and any little stimulus triggered an automatic response.

  For nine months, she had worried over her youthful figure. Pregnancy for any woman was cause for concern when it came to pleasing one’s husband sexually. With two men to please, the situation magnified. Given Reed’s large size, recuperation from the twenty-hour delivery had exceeded two months. Despite daily reassurance from both her husbands they found her desirable, until her small waist and flat belly returned, she wasn’t content. She had refused to service their needs for another month, waiting for everything, and she meant everything, to return to normal.

  Slightly rounded hips were now more an asset than a hindrance, creating the slender hourglass shape of her dreams. There was one drawback—a top-heavy hourglass. Her, complain—never. To complain of overly large breasts now that she actually had breasts was nonsensical. Aside from that, her only worry was falling forward, chest first. Big breasts took a great deal of getting used to, at least for her. Devin and Caleb didn’t encounter difficulty in the least. They sucked on them more than Reed. A miracle any milk remained to nurse. But at a time like this, leaking breasts were a dead giveaway to her overwrought arousal.

  “Come here.”

  Silently, she moved between his parted thighs and raised her arms. He lifted the hem of her gown, drew it over her head, and flung it behind the couch. Standing in front of him wearing only satin slippers, her body shuddered with anticipation.

  Without waiting for further instructions, she cupped her breasts together and squeezed the engorged nipples until warm liquid streamed down her belly. She asked coyly, “Is this what you want?”

  “Turn around…and take your time,” he ordered, voice a deep, velvet rumble.

  A slave to his desire, always doing what he asked, she began to turn, looking over her shoulder while doing so. With her back to him, she stopped. Seductively, she slid her hands from her waist down to her buttocks. Feet shoulder-width apart, she bent over and spread the cheeks of her ass to reveal the wrinkled little hole Devin worshipped.

  “Damn, Megan, I’m stiff as iron.” He reached for her.

  She jumped out of his reach. His growl of obsession made her feel terribly wicked.

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Where are you going?”

  “Stay put,” she ordered firmly, taking a seat on top of his desk with her legs crossed. The coolness of the glass-covered desk greeted her bare bottom. With a tilt of her head, she batted her eyelashes innocently yet made sure her pose was pure seduction. “I’ll play…”

  He grinned.

  “…by my rules.”

  His wolfish grin was replaced by a cautionary expression. “Go ahead.”

  “I pick this time.”

  He nodded.

  “Stop when I want.”

  Again, he nodded.

  “I want you and Caleb to take part.”

  Devin sat up. “No! Blazes if there ain’t a difference. If a man touches a woman…” He shook his head. “No!”

  “Very well,” she agreed. Unfortunately, if he or Caleb conducted themsel
ves improperly in the presence of a female, come morning, all of Boston and surrounding areas would know of the indiscretion. Damn double standards. Slowly, she began to trace her areolas with her fingertips, uncrossed her legs, and gave him a sinful grin. “I’ll come up with an amicable solution that we will all enjoy.”

  “For instance?” A deep furrow shadowed his brow. He shifted uncomfortably, staring at the scarce triangle of curls shielding the cleft at the top of her legs.

  “Do you agree to my terms?” She parted her thighs, barely enough to flaunt the lips of her pussy.

  “Shit, woman, what are you doing to me?” he growled, and his husky voice revealed his sexual frustration and need to properly attack her cunt, matching her own need to be fucked good and hard.

  “I’ll let you know when the time comes. Yes or no?” She managed to sound somewhat steadfast though ready to run across the room, tear off his clothes, and jam that huge bulk of meat threatening to unseam his trousers into her vagina, stretching her tender flesh until the pain and pleasure became one.

  Their eyes met. He looked as though he regretted what he was about to say, and at that moment, Megan knew she had him right where she wanted him. Men were so easy.

  “Fine, whatever you say. Now may I join you?”

  “Not yet.” She planted her left foot off to her side on top of his desk and let the other hang just off the corner edge. Her wide-open pussy burned with emptiness, a desire to be filled. A ravenous need she couldn’t explain. Her body crudely displayed gave her a delicious, added sensation. It turned her on. Perhaps using her feminine gems to excite men was perverse. Even so, she loved being a man’s object of desire, any man’s.

  Devin’s hungry gaze riveted to the split spread out for him between her gaping thighs. She knew he wanted to take out his cock, climb between her legs, stuff his big, fat tool up her cunthole, and slam into her until his thick semen shot deep in her pussy.