Acres, Natalie - Propositioned by Outlaws [Outlaws 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Natalie Acres

  “So much for waiting on me,” Art rasped.

  “You’re always complaining about being late to the party,” Victoria said, twirling her nipples.

  “You’re being a very bad girl tonight,” Art told her, grabbing her by the arm and hoisting her across his lap.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What I should’ve done when I first met you,” Art told her.

  “Lane?” she squealed.

  “Relax. You’ll love it.”

  “That’s the truth on a Sunday,” Art said, rubbing her shapely globes. He worked his fingers into her flesh as he massaged her bottom. “My Lord, woman, you’ve got a pretty ass.”

  She wiggled on his lap. The heat from her pussy warmed his leg and he reached under her, determined to enjoy her hotness. Stuffing three fingers between her folds, he finger-fucked her until she humped against his hand. “You bad girl, you.”

  Sticking his fingers between his lips, he sucked the fingers he withdrew. “Hmm. You taste better than ice cream.”

  Victoria stretched her neck and moaned as she watched him. What he would give to frame her lust-filled expression for the rest of his days.

  As he teased her, Lane sat on the bed. He studied them as Art worked to arouse her. Victoria’s full, soft tits mashed against his thighs. He was pretty certain, given the fact she couldn’t lie still, he wouldn’t have to try very hard if he wanted to make her come.

  Studying her bottom, maddening thoughts got the best of him. He shoved his hand underneath her body and inserted his third and middle finger, going for the core of her pussy as he stroked her.

  Fuck! He was as hard as a pistol, and ready to fire off any number of bullets. Her clenching pussy teased him as he twirled his fingers inside her. Hell’s fury, he couldn’t stop himself from taking what was his to own.

  He dragged his fingers from front to back, coating her asshole with her slick juices. Lane frowned as he watched, most likely uncertain of how Victoria would respond.

  Art continued to dip his fingers inside her cunt, gathering a little moisture, and doing what he could to wet the entrance he planned to claim. Against his better judgment, and due in part to his great impatience, he pressed his fingertip right inside her rear passage.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelped, her voice muffled as she slapped her hand over her mouth.

  “I’m preparing you for things to come,” he told her.

  When she jerked again, he secured her hip and held her steady. His arm propelled behind him and he slapped her bottom, the resounding smack alerting him to the obvious.

  He’d gotten a little carried away.

  “Oh my God,” she whimpered, her back bowing in response.

  “So you liked that, did you?” Art asked.

  “Hmm, yes,” she replied though uncertainty lived in her shaky voice.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, smoothing his hand over her red ass.

  “Yes, I liked it. Yes.”

  Apparently she was all right with the fact he’d gotten carried away. He ran his fingers down the seam of her bottom, and this time, he positioned his middle finger against her puckered, tight, virginal hole. Using his free hand, he spanked her again. When her bottom clenched, he stuffed his finger inside her tight ass.

  “Oh hell, Art,” she rasped. “Oh please. You’ve got to go deeper.”

  He looked at Lane and shrugged.

  “You heard the woman. Give her something to scream and tremble about.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Victoria never thought of her asshole as a means for entry. She squeezed the hard digit Art thrust inside her and refused to let him withdraw his finger. There was some element of pain when he first invaded her there, but now the searing sensation in her pussy alerted her to the obvious.

  She wanted a cock in her cunt and a dick in her ass. And she wouldn’t be happy until she experienced what she desired most.

  Reaching under her body, she touched Art’s dick. He grinned as she stroked him. “I’m not through with you,” he said.

  “You’d better hurry and get that way soon, because I’ll push my own fingers in my pussy if you don’t put something worthwhile there.”

  “What’d you have in mind?” Lane asked, joining the conversation.

  “Your penis,” she said, looking right at his thick cock. “And yours, Art,” she added, squeezing the dick positioned right under her mound.

  Art kept her over his bended knee. He swatted her behind again, and a shocking amount of arousal swept over her pussy lips. Her core was on fire as he rubbed his hand over her ass cheeks and buried his finger all the way inside her.

  She was coming undone.

  Her nipples felt sensitive to his touch, and she ached for a mouth to soothe the fires disrupting her peace of mind. She needed their mouths suckling her nipples, their cocks stroking her pussy.

  Art toyed with her hole and continued to impale her anus, pushing his finger high inside her ass and then retreating. He fucked her nice and slow as he watched her carefully, perhaps eager to gauge a reaction.

  As she rocked with him, his expression changed. What was once solemn and unexpressive soon turned wild and untamed. As she bucked against him, he positioned his cock at her belly, allowing her to feel his length, get a good idea of the strength and power building behind his erection.

  “Fuck me,” she pleaded.

  “What did you say?” Lane asked, scooting off the edge of the bed.

  “I said, fuck me!”

  “Where have you heard such language?” Art teased, busting her ass.

  This time when the spanking began, each lick delivered was harder and more aggressive. Art’s hand came down over and over again as her bottom burned, and her pussy exploded into a pool of pulsing heat.

  “I need you inside me!” she screamed.

  “I liked the word ‘fuck’ a little better,” Art said, caressing her bottom.

  “Haven’t you spanked me enough?”

  Art helped her to her feet. “Bend over on the bed and let Lane check you out.”

  Lane reached for the lantern. Holding the light over her when she stretched out on the bed, he said, “Good God, Art, you’ve worn this poor woman’s bottom plumb out.”

  “Not yet I haven’t,” he promised. “But I will.”

  Art’s promise was her undoing. She stretched her arms forward and then flipped over. Staring up at them, she said, “So what do you say, men? Are you gonna fuck me or look at me?”

  Lane grinned. He wrapped his cock in his closed hand and pulled.

  “I could do a better job,” she promised.

  “I don’t doubt that for a minute,” he said, pressing the tip of his dick to her mouth.

  Her tongue whipped around his size and he sank between her lips, stroking between her cheeks as slowly as a man should be allowed. She sucked him to her throat, blowing him as he retreated, drawing him closer to her tonsils as he fucked her mouth, glided over her tongue.

  Using her lips to tease him, she kissed the tip, sliding her mouth back and forth over the tiny slit topping his cock. A bubble appeared there and she twirled her tongue over the transparent speckle, savoring the taste of his masculine spice.

  She oohed and ahhed as she brought him inside her mouth again. His cock swelled as she gave him head, and the harder he became, the more he inspired her arousal.

  Unable to get comfortable, she tucked her hand between her legs and swirled her fingers around her opening. She didn’t stretch her neck in an effort to find Art, but instead focused on Lane. His dick was longer, more erect, and his gait continually changed.

  He appeared excited enough to come, and she practically groveled for his release. Swallowing again and again, she tapped his balls with her fingers, dragging them up and down his scrotum until she could trace the tiny veins in his sac.

  Lane growled, fisted himself at the base of his cock and in a guttural voice, he said, “You’ll get a mouthful if you w
ork after me like that.”

  “I’m thirsty,” she confessed, rising to the tip, looping her tongue around the crest and dropping her head over him again.

  “You’re a little witch,” he grumbled, still resisting her. She could see the way he tried to restrain. But she felt his resistance crumbling.

  Her gaze locked with his and she rose once more to the mushroom head, locking her tongue around the shape, tucking her tip right under the hooded flap before drawing him with a stronger suction than she’d used before. She sucked him clear to the back of her throat and hummed against his shaft.

  Still unable to reach the satisfying conclusion she desired, she looked up at him and said, “Come on, Lane. Let me taste you.”

  He smirked. “Will you drink every last drop?”

  “Yes,” she promised, her fingers dancing past her folds as she fingered herself and blew him.

  Art appeared in the picture right in time, dropping his mouth over her opening. He suckled her pussy and thrust his tongue inside her. As she grunted and moaned, her vibrations finally inspired Lane to show his appreciation.

  He grabbed hold of her hair and moved her head up and down, urging her to suck his dick at a pace he set. As he stretched her lips, her gag reflexes worked overtime to keep up with his pace.

  Art’s head moved side to side in between her legs. He feasted on her cunt as she enjoyed Lane’s meaty, thick dick. And just when she thought she couldn’t keep up anymore, Lane stilled inside her.

  After a short pause, he wrapped her hair around his fingers and fucked for a finish like he might have done had he been locked between her legs instead. Pounding at her throat, Lane took that release she’d tried her best to grant him.

  A jet of his cum shot down her throat, and that was truly her undoing. There was no stopping her explosive end as Art pushed his tongue inside her channel and ate from her pussy like he’d never eat another meal or delight in the newfound flavor he’d discovered.

  * * * *

  He’d spanked her. He’d fucked her pussy, sucked her sweet clit. Now, Art wanted that pretty little ass.

  After he finished giving her an orgasm driven by his lips, mouth and tongue, Art longed to introduce her to the forbidden.

  Lane, greedy somebody that he was, yanked her over him. He framed her face and kissed her like he might forget how if he didn’t practice right then. Art grabbed her hips and drew her to him, positioning her bottom right in front of his rigid cock.

  “Hang on there,” Lane said, breaking the tender moment he and Victoria shared.

  “It’s all right,” she promised. “I don’t want to wait. I need both of you inside me.”

  “You do, huh?” Art asked, rubbing his cock over her shapely globes.

  “That’s what I said,” she crooned, dragging her body over Lane’s as she found an angle possible for double penetration.

  Dying to poke that precious ass, Art reined in his control before he ripped into her. Holding his cock at a distance, he finally couldn’t stand it anymore. He rubbed the tip over her entrance, waiting for the puckered hole to flex and welcome him.

  Then Lane entered her. Art jerked and pulled back. He was ready to take what she was eager to give, but instead, he resisted the heavenly invitation, determined to observe for a second more before diving straight into temptation.

  “Damn, sweetheart. You must’ve been born this way,” Lane rasped, stroking her.

  “What?” she asked, shifting her hips to accommodate the cock buried inside her.

  As Lane’s heavy balls bumped against her, Art rubbernecked and watched, taking himself completely out of their intimate connection.

  The sight of their two bodies rocking together made him hard. Lane paused before he slammed inside her, and his forceful movements took Art to the brink of insanity. There was nothing more erotic than a stiff pecker slipping in and out of a slick pussy.

  “You only interested in watching, Art?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

  “Yep.” He walked around to the side of the bed and observed a little longer, getting a close-up view in order to tease her. There he gained a much better picture anyway.

  Victoria’s folds parted as Lane shoved his cock inside her cunt. His dick disappeared between the honey-colored hairs scattered across her mound.

  Lane’s brow wrinkled. His jaw set. He was close to claiming a strong finish.

  “Ah hell,” Art said, pumping his cock through his tight fist.

  “You must prefer looking on,” Victoria whispered, placing her palms flat against the back of her head. Working those thighs, she bent her knees. With her toes digging into the mattress, she opened and closed her legs as Lane entered her.

  In a matter of seconds, Lane was working a little harder. Clutching her hips, Lane shoved her body high above him and then yanked her back over him. Repeating the process once more, he said, “Art, if you’re gonna join us, you’d better find your place soon.”

  Art stared at Victoria’s full breasts. Leaning over, he kissed her protruding nipple. He fondled her as she fucked Lane, wishing he and Lane could just keep her in bed, screw her all the time.

  There was no need to do much else in that prairie. Loving on any pretty woman was about the only thing worthwhile. A whisper in his inner ear reminded him that wasn’t entirely true now.

  Fucking Victoria was the only way to go. After being with her, he didn’t have a need for any other.

  Standing behind her once again, Art’s hands fell to her rounded rump. This time, he spread her for a well-intended purpose. He towered over her, jerked once, and fell against her back, grabbing her around the waist to secure her against him.

  “Oh, God!” she screamed as he thrust inside her.

  “That’s right, beautiful. Your prayers have been answered.” Art grunted as he fucked her. The wait was over, and the delay was sure worth the temporary sacrifice.

  Lane withdrew a few inches, making room for another participant, and Art gave her body time to adjust. But when her sleek passage began milking his cock, squeezing around him so tightly he thought he might pop, well that was the final test of a man’s strength.

  He screwed himself balls-deep, completely filling her asshole. Then, he retreated, realizing he was greedy when he buried his dick inside one hell of a tight, virginal hole.

  Seconds later, Lane’s pace quickened. Victoria bucked like a wild woman. And Art wasn’t about to be left out in the cold.

  He hammered inside her and took that beautiful bottom he planned to stamp as his own.

  “Fuck and the pleasure found in it!” Victoria screamed, tossing her head back.

  Art grinned at her crazy vocal expressions, finding more pleasure being inside her than he ever imagined possible. He struggled to give Lane a little room, and as soon as he did, his good friend took advantage.

  Lane started a-whooping and a-hollering, and Victoria practically sang. In the midst of her satisfying song, Art listened to the only words a man needed to hear from a satisfied woman.

  “Deeper! Harder! More! Oh please, men, please! Give me more!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Lane rode into town alone. He insisted on going to see the marshal by himself, even though Art and Victoria both expressed their displeasure. They were afraid he might be ambushed. He shared their concerns, but sometimes a man just needed to be a man without assistance from anyone else.

  After Max’s buddy turned on him the night before, he wasn’t necessarily looking for Max. He figured the old cheat was probably laid up somewhere demanding a whore’s attention for his wounds, assuming the burly guy hadn’t caught up with him after they parted ways at Victoria’s place.

  Lane read faces well. He’d instantly picked up on the fact that the guy accompanying Max had already heard his share of lies. Poor guy probably had some loot somewhere he was waiting to collect, too. Lucky for Lane, Max hadn’t showed up at Victoria’s cabin alone.

  Riding up to the marshal’s offic
e, Lane couldn’t help but notice the six wooden caskets located at the end of the street, right next to the hotel. He held his hand over his brow and squinted. Apparently, one of them was already occupied.

  Curiosity drove him and he clucked to his horse. Riding by the saloon, he headed to the south end of town and came to a ripping halt as soon as he saw the dead man on display. “Well I’ll be damned.”

  “Did ya know him?” a young boy said, approaching him cautiously.

  “Yep,” Lane said, tilting his head. “What happened to him?”

  “Some man shot him here in town last night. Shot him in cold blood. That’s what my pa said. He mentioned a man like Mr. Carpenter made a lot of enemies. Were you one of his enemies?”

  Lane swallowed. He studied the young lad looking up at him with bright eyes and promise. Rather than give the fellow a story he’d carry with him out of his youth, he simply said, “We used to be friends.”

  “I’m sorry, sir,” the boy said.

  “Me too, kid. Me too.” Lane reined his horse in and clucked as he tugged him off to the left. He rode to the marshal’s office once more and tied off his gelding at the hitching post.

  Before he took the next step he considered his purpose there. He wondered if the marshal would give him a word, or if he’d have him arrested. Considering the crimes he’d committed against his daughter, he thought the marshal might find cuffing him a tad more enjoyable.

  Lane had never killed, but he’d kill the first man who’d dare lay a hand on his daughter, if he ever had one. Thinking about that, he decided he’d best ride on out. He turned his back to the building and traipsed toward his horse again.

  “You ridin’ out today?” The marshal’s deep voice stopped him.

  Slowly, Lane turned around and stared up at the man towering over him from the elevated porch.

  “No,” he replied. “Hadn’t planned on it.”

  He pointed down the dirt road. “Friend of yours was called out into the street last night.”

  “Seems I’m not the only one who had a problem with Max, huh?”