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

by Samantha Cruise

  “Shhh, someone will hear.” His rough voice vibrated with lust while his cock continued to massage her tender bud with each in and out motion, prolonging the vibrations as her body convulsed around him.

  “Let the world hear,” she panted. Her hips shuddered as she slowed her movements with the dying spasms of her orgasm.

  “Let them learn what a skilled lover you are.” She looked over her shoulder to kiss him. His tongue teased her mouth unmercifully, his cock slipping out from the grip of her pussy. “That would stop the rumors once and for all.”

  He held her back tightly against his chest, a hand slipping inside her bodice to caress her breasts. His groan against her ear was low, husky. “I’m still hard.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” she moaned, craving more of his stiffness inside her helpless body, stroking the erotic flame that always seemed to torment her. Her body craved sex constantly. All a man had to do was touch her, and her body responded. Sometimes, she felt abnormal. A woman shouldn’t crave a man’s meat nonstop. She couldn’t stop craving semen rather than wine or water to drink or a hard cock to ride all night in place of sleep. It was her lot in life to not only embrace her sexuality, but those of her lovers, and she only felt it her wifely duty to please their hard cocks anytime one was put in front of her.

  He repositioned her so he could mount her from behind. He lifted her dress to reveal her naked backside. “I want your pretty little ass.”

  “Take it,” she breathed shamelessly, bracing her hands on the low stone wall and wiggling her ass. She was well aware and still didn’t care that her stockings had rolled down to her ankles, ripped to shreds. He fed her desire. That was all that mattered. Then she remembered the ball was far from over. “Do be careful not to spill on my dress.”

  “Would you mind if I got carried away?” His hands spread her cheeks wide. The broad head of his cock prodded the snug entrance, parting the narrow hole already.

  A blaze of white-hot arousal echoed through her system, and her empty cunt spasmed in response. “Just hurry,” she whimpered, feeling her anal muscles expand for his well-lubricated thickness. “Why isn’t Devin here?”

  “Unlike him to miss out,” he grunted, burying several inches of his swollen cock inside her quivering anal muscles, stretching her with his hot invasion.

  Reaching back, she gripped his forearm and pushed against him, sinking several more inches up her rear.

  “Take it easy, or I’ll come too soon.” Grabbing her hips, he worked his way inside slowly, letting her feel every thick inch of his rock-hard erection.

  “Fuck me, Caleb. Now!” she demanded, nearly sobbing from the painful pleasure as his cock fucked her with slow and easy strokes, worked its way inside the tight confines of her rectum. “We don’t have time for slow and easy.”

  “Hornier than usual, Meg,” he said roughly. In one hard, fast, and sure stroke, he buried his cock to the hilt inside her ass.

  Her lips clamped tightly together in an effort to suppress the scream deep in her throat. His broad length began to fill her bottom. She arched into the invasion, fought the sharp bite of pain. Her entire body burned with intense pleasure that threatened to shatter her senses.

  Megan opened her eyes and saw Devin’s unmistakable large form emerge from the shadows.

  She smiled up at him when he stepped in front of her. His massive cock was only inches from her lips. It was solid, thick, and bobbed from his body like another limb reaching for her.

  “Where…have…you…been,” she gasped between Caleb’s powerful thrusts.

  “Later.” Devin’s voice was ragged, urgent. His hands splayed over her cheeks, holding her head firm. “Right now, I need you.”

  “My hair” were the final words she muttered before he pushed the red, swollen head of his bulky cock past her waiting lips.

  “Megan!” Devin warned heatedly, plunging his cock halfway down her throat. He stood absolutely still. A second later, the broad head of his cock exploded. Hot spurts of semen poured down her throat.

  She tried to lap up each precious drop of his unique maleness, but his huge cock jerked uncontrollably in her mouth. She used both hands to take hold. Her tongue lapped at the sensitive head, and his powerful frame shuddered. She tensed her lips to increase the suction of her mouth. He was still hard, throbbing against the inside cavern of her mouth.

  “That’s it, suck it.” His head fell back, guttural growls coming from deep in his chest. His body shuddered as his cock once again shot hot jets of cream down her throat.

  Tenderly, she teased the sensitive vein running along the underside of his cock with the tip of her tongue, the suckling of her heated moisture around him. Her lips clenched around his embedded flesh. It was so erotic to watch him touch her cheek and feel his hand outline of the engorged head bulging inside her mouth. She could tell by the way his cock was throbbing that he was so aroused he was ready to come again.

  “Damn!” he growled. “Coming back to back is a first.” Devin withdrew his semi-hard penis from her mouth.

  “Our turn, Meg,” Caleb vowed.

  Through the darkness, the lust in his eyes burned bright. Devin stroked his cock with a skilled touch, watching Caleb bring her to climax.

  It made her hunger for him, ache with desire, weak with need. She had an audience of one, and loved it. Lost in the moment, she surrendered to the sensations Caleb inflicted upon her body. With a final thrust, Caleb joined her in ecstasy, pulling her down on his lap.

  Her rapturous moans and cries of bliss mingled with Caleb’s groans of pleasure.

  They both gasped for breath. The pungent aroma of their sexual spending saturated the cool, crisp night air.

  Devin wiped his semi-hard cock with a handkerchief before stuffing it back in his trousers. He seemed to wait for her to recover before he finally spoke. “I need to get back. Sinclair is holding a chair for me at his table.”

  “Devin, don’t leave, not yet. My breasts are so full, they’re painful to touch.”

  “More for me,” Caleb boasted, undoing several hooks along the back of her gown. He pushed the flimsy netting off her shoulders. As he kissed along the curve of her throat, his hands dipped below her bodice to cup her breasts. He kneaded the fleshy mounds simultaneously.

  “You know my breasts leak when I’m aroused.” She sighed, resting her head on Caleb’s shoulder to give him complete access. She looked down at the swollen peaks, a vivid scarlet. Even in the faint light, the outline of the areola was apparent. In her present state, if her breasts were not emptied, she feared ruining her dress. “If you lend a hand, we can rejoin the party sooner.”

  “Mr. Sinclair expects me in the card room,” he grumbled, his avid eyes staring at the milk beginning to ooze from her engorged nipples. “Oh, hell, he’s just gonna have to wait for me to take his money.”

  Devin sat on the stone retaining wall and carefully straddled her over their laps, her legs draped over the outside of their thighs. Her skirts hiding her widespread legs as she sat facing them. Their eager mouths each claimed a breast.

  At the release of milk, the painful pressure began to subside, and a break of pleasure washed over her. She moaned, felt Devin’s hand smooth up her thigh. She gave a startled gasp as a thick trio of fingers crammed inside her pussy. She made a soft whimpering noise as Devin began to pump between her swollen cunt lips, his thumb circling around her clitoris.

  Caleb caressed, squeezing, kneading her breasts, drinking the precious nectar from them. His cock grew hard once more, pressed anxiously against her thigh.

  “Son of a bitch, Megan, I can’t go on like this. Your pussy is soaked,” growled Devin.

  Her body trembled at his expert fingers teasing and stroking the folds between her thighs, drenched with her and Caleb’s spendings. Her pussy gushed excitedly, clenched around his fingers. It was incredibly arousing having Devin and Caleb nurse from her breasts out in the open, where anyone could happen upon them.

  “If I don’t
get out of here now, I am going to rip off your clothes, Megan. Fuck you on the grass like there is no tomorrow. I’ll make you scream ’til your lungs hurt. To hell with who hears.”

  “Devin, I’m not so sure I like this lack of restraint,” she panted, shocked at the dark, lust-filled need in his tone. Her hands curled behind their heads, drawing each man closer to her bosom. Their greedy mouths eagerly obeying, their lips suckling her hard nipples, the lapping noises grew in intensity.

  “You love it, Megan. You love every debauched, wicked thing I do to you. You love it when we use your body for our pleasure.”

  His words excited her even more. Within seconds, his masterful strokes brought her to the brink of orgasm. She’d told them before her orgasms were strongest when they nursed from her breasts, and this time was no exception. She could feel it mounting, building in her nipples and throbbing clit.

  “Come for me.”

  “Oh, yes, Devin, yes.” Their hungry mouths drove her mad with desire, red-hot arousal raging out of control. She melted against Caleb, nearing her climax. To keep from falling backward, she wrapped her hands around their necks. She loved the sensation. She loved giving them an intimate part of her that brought the three of them closer.

  Nursing the men she loved was unlike anything experienced before. As often as they latched on to her breasts, they seemed to enjoy it more each time. If they brought her to orgasm simultaneously while breast-feeding, it was overwhelming, an incredibly tumultuous sensation that left her breathless.

  Her eyes widened as an incredible heat pooled between her thighs. The buildup was churning deep in her core, cascading to every nerve in her body. Her breasts throbbed. Her nipples swelled. Her hips lifted to meet Devin’s fingers, craving his well-practiced touch.

  “Yes,” she begged, her head rolling side to side. Something on her left, near a row of carved bushes shaped to look like trained seals, caught her eye. She blinked. It took a moment for her bleary gaze to focus. Unsure of what it was, she blinked again. There in the distance, she glimpsed a silhouette in the shadows, tall and broad-shouldered, that of a man.

  Watching.

  Listening.

  She shut her eyes tightly to all but the overwhelming surge crashing through her system, propelling her into another world of exquisite bliss.

  Chapter 3

  To Devin, winning came easily, perhaps too easily. An expert at reading eyes, he knew what people were thinking just by looking into their eyes. It was a requisite skill that any gunslinger who wanted to stay alive learned promptly. It was always in the eyes. At cards, it was an extremely useful and lucrative skill.

  Rarely did he lose.

  The stack of winnings growing next to his brandy glass was proof.

  Lady Luck seemed to elude him tonight given that he left Megan’s milk-filled breasts to Caleb. Brandy, cards, men in a smoke-filled room somehow didn’t compare to Megan’s feminine curves and inviting, honeyed passage.

  In the past three hours or so, despite staring at another royal flush in his hand, his mind wandered to the garden for the hundredth time. Forbidden delights flooded his thoughts. Megan’s scent lingered on his fingers. Yet the memory of plump buttocks and full thighs squirming on his lap pervaded his senses. Skin so smooth it felt like exquisite velvet in the moonlight.

  Furtively, he eyed the men seated at his table engrossed in the cards held guardedly in their hands. To his left sat Beau Sinclair. Did the graying man of fifty-two have any idea what he nearly interrupted in the garden? Had he seen Devin’s hand molding his eighteen-year-old daughter’s downy pussy, spreading the wet cuntal lips apart to reveal the tiny slash hidden? Did her father have a clue Devin had fingered her silken-haired cunt?

  How many fingers, Devin wondered, could he fit up her furry, little muff? Extremely long and extra-thick, his index finger had barely breached the entrance. Just how little was her youthful crack? If he had to, he’d work all his fingers inside her body, his entire fist, anything, to prepare that hot, constricted passage for his overgrown cock.

  Did the man know, even now, that all Devin could think of was how his daughter’s delectable nipples would rasp against his tongue as he sucked them into his mouth? Had her father seen his daughter’s enormous breasts glistening under the torchlight and her long, rigid nipples pointing skyward toward the heavenly stars? His fingers itched to ram inside her untried body, and his lips tingled to suck on the engorged pearl of her pleasure. Devin wanted to do that and so many more wicked things to Beau Sinclair’s youngest child.

  For starters, he’d burrow his tongue so deep inside her silken-haired pussy and commence a sucking binge until she begged for release. Then he would cram his weighty, twelve-inch cock between her perfectly voluptuous breasts and force the huge head into her mouth. He’d seize her hair and make her suck on him until he spilled over twin mounds of the most glorious female flesh ever created.

  That would be just the warm-up. Next, he would sit her on all fours, raise her creamy-white ass so both holes were in his charge, and then pry his way between her untouched ass cheeks. With all his strength, he would fuck a well-beaten path up her rectum, ram into her like a wild steer while she bucked beneath him.

  Hours later, he would flip her over and take her second maidenhead, pound her virginal cunt lips senseless until the man’s child, provocative minx that she was, begged him to stop.

  Violet eyes, ablaze with passion, rooted in his memory. Legs readily opened for him in submission. Soft curves of her rounded buttocks ground against his cock as the proof of her arousal seeped onto his hand. There were countless ways to enlighten her to the carnal demands of the devil. Caught up in numerous sexual positions and varied angles pictured in his mind that allowed for deep penetration, ways he wanted to take her, where he wanted to kiss her, fuck her, taste and caress her, his fingers strummed absently on the polished walnut table. Wicked intentions far more perverse than a virgin could ever bargain…

  “Must you do that?”

  Devin’s fingers stilled at the callous voice. His gaze slowly rose to find the man seated directly in front of him glaring back.

  “A man can’t concentrate.”

  Lawrence Buchanan was an out-of-town guest of Mr. Sinclair from down south. Devin had met him once before. Nothing impressive to remember, except he was a wealthy plantation owner who traded in cotton. Tonight, he’d joined their table nearly an hour ago and lost every hand since. Devin guessed it was more from the excessive consumption of spirits than anything else. Liquor clouded the mind, made men feel braver than they really were. Judging from the heady odor drifting across the table, the man probably felt braver than most.

  “Gentlemen, we’re having a friendly game.” Beau Sinclair quickly intervened. “Perhaps, Lawrence, a breath of fresh air would do you a bit of good.”

  “Another table would be safer,” Devin added in a cool tone.

  “Fine where I am,” Buchanan muttered, his dark brown eyes narrowed into thin, black slits cutting across his ruddy face. “Your kind doesn’t scare me. Besides, I want to win my money back.”

  Devin let the remark slide. The money—or the man, for that matter—wasn’t worth getting into a scrape. “Suit yourself.” He neatly splayed his wining hand on the table.

  “Blasted!” Buchanan threw his cards on the table in disgust. “Only thing I hate more than a free blackey is a cheat at cards.”

  A collective hush fell over the room. Mr. Sinclair’s eyes widened with alarm.

  Devin kept his expression devoid of emotion. He didn’t care a lick about being compared to a black man, red-skinned savage, hot-blooded Mexican, or even the devil, but he drew the line at being called a cheat. He took a sip from his glass and then collected his winnings, doing his best to ignore the man continuing to spew venom like a stomped-on snake. This was the Sinclair home, deserving of respect. Randolph was a close friend. Devin, too, was an invited guest. More importantly, Devin never stooped to the level of a drunkard.

  *
* * *

  Downstairs at the start of a slow waltz, Megan felt an unexpected arm slip around her waist. She glanced up in time to witness Randolph practically shove her latest dance partner aside yet do it so subtly Douglas Cartwell didn’t even seem to realize what happened until it was too late.

  Megan heard Randolph solicit after the fact. “Cartwell, be a sport, and allow the man of honor to cut in.”

  Douglas Cartwell, a well-groomed gentleman of fifty-nine, stared at Randolph, speechless. He stood gaping with his arms still extended, holding an invisible partner.

  “Thank you, good man.” Randolph whisked Megan away in a blur, her heavy skirts swooshing up and about their legs with a burst of wind.

  She watched the solemn look of disbelief on the other man’s face while Randolph maneuvered her effortlessly through what remained of the dancing maze. It all happened so fast. She wanted to laugh and catch her breath at the same time.

  “Poor Mr. Cartwell,” she muttered, catching her breath as Randolph lessened their pace.

  “Dearest Megan, pardon my ill manners.” His lips curled into a wicked grin. His tousled hair and sparkling blue eyes lent him a mischievous air. “I’ve waited ages to hold you in my arms. No longer could I postpone another second. Your many talents keep you well in demand.”

  Racy Randy, as he was often called, danced with every beautiful woman, eligible or otherwise. There was absolutely nothing wrong with that, except men were often left searching for their wives and daughters afterward. His seduction skills were extraordinary, reputation in the bedchamber legendary. At least that was what the rumor mill professed. Truth be told, she never experienced his skills firsthand though he spent many days and nights in her home. In good fun, they shared light, flirtatious banter now and again, hardly serious.

  Until now, the power of Randy’s persuasive charm and sensuous gaze had been tittle-tattle. She gave him a playful grin in return and decided a little rib would be fun. “I, too, have longed for a moment alone with you.”