Mischief and the Masters by Cherise Sinclair

  Wait. She was turned on—and by Max, after having been with Alastair last week. An intellectual discussion about ménage and threesomes was all very good, but possibly having another man’s hands on her might be getting too real. Only one way to find out. “Are you bothered at getting this excited with me after having been with Alastair?”

  She bit her lip—that gorgeous puffy lip—and nodded.

  “Do you feel disloyal? Or maybe like a…slut?”

  Another nod. Her velvety brown eyes showed her worry.

  Damned if he didn’t like her all the more for her conscience. His wife had taught him beauty truly was only skin-deep. Pretty was nice; character was what a real relationship was built upon. “I do understand, darlin’. Let me put it like this: If you had children, would you pick one to love and ignore the rest?”

  Shocked, she shook her head. “Of course not.”

  “So you can love more than one person at a time?”

  She got where he was going and gave him a disgruntled look. “Yes.”

  “Guess what, princess? You can get excited by more than one, too.” He leaned in for a hard, close-mouthed kiss. “Alastair and I learned to share before we learned to walk, so we don’t get jealous of each other. That said, if we’re together and you chase after another guy, I’d get a tad peeved.”

  Her beautifully arched brows drew together. “You two don’t get jealous of each other?”

  “Nope.” He stroked her cheek, pleased when she didn’t pull away. “If things get unbalanced, then the unhappy party pipes up.” As kids, there had been some noteworthy battles until they’d learned to talk to each other. “It helps that we’re both into being “fair.”

  “Oh.” She let out a little sigh. “This did feel like I was betraying him. You’re sure he’s comfortable with me being here with you?”

  “Baby, why do you think he went up to bed early—and took Hunter with him?”

  The way her eyes rounded was too cute.

  He bent down and closed his lips around one velvety nipple. Her gasp was even cuter. He worked her, fondling, pressing, and squeezing her breasts, licking and sucking her nipples, until he could hear her arms straining at the Velcro straps. Perfect.

  OH, HEAVENS. HER breasts felt as if they’d grown too swollen for her skin, and her nipples were so tight they ached.

  Max rested his palms over her breasts and studied her for a long moment before smiling. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

  Safeword. Safeword. Right. “Red. Sir. It’s red.” Why was he asking…?

  “Good.” He reached under her dress and stripped her boy briefs down and off. “By the way, Zuri. The next time you wear underpants in our house, either Alastair or I will cut them off.”


  Not answering, he gripped her left leg and lifted it over the lounge chair’s armrest, letting her lower leg dangle outside. A Velcro band went around her ankle, the strap only tight enough to ensure her leg would remain over the armrest. With ruthless hands, he did the same on her right leg.

  “Max!” She yanked at the wrist restraints, then the ankle ones.

  “It’s a pretty sturdy lounge. I don’t think you can bust it that way.” His grin flashed and disappeared as he trailed a finger from her breast, slowly down her stomach, then along the top of the fabric bunched at her waist.

  Her muscles quivered under his touch.

  “Let’s see what you have under here now.” He tucked the skirt of her dress up and out of his way, then simply studied her for a long minute.

  A long, tantalizing minute.

  He brushed his knuckles over her mound, and his lips curved up. “I remember this plump little pussy. So fucking smooth.”

  “Uuuh.” The entire world heated until each breath of the humid night air felt thick and heavy in her throat.

  Unhurriedly, he traced his fingers around her entrance and spread the wetness around her clit. Just…playing. “I like you wide open like this,” he said. “It’s like getting an after-dinner treat.”

  She tried to glare, but what he was doing with his fingers was…was…

  He slid one finger inside, and she heard herself gasp at the electrifying pleasure.

  “Fucking nice.” His rumbling voice was easy. “Bear down, princess.”

  She tightened her muscles around him.

  “Perfect. Keep your cunt like that…or everything stops.”

  What did he mean?

  A second later, he slid down to kneel at the end of the lounge chair. He was so tall that when he bent forward, he could kiss the crease between her pussy and her leg. His warm lips teased over the sensitive skin, and she shivered.

  “You know, I forgot to shave before company came.” He deliberately rubbed his scratchy jaw on her inner thigh in an erotically rough caress that somehow woke her skin from her toes to her pussy.

  Slowly, he pressed a finger inside her again and glanced at her in silent command.

  She tightened her muscles around him.

  “That-a-girl.” His finger was still inside her as he tongued a circle around her clit.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed.

  He chuckled and lifted his head. “Never heard you swear before, princess.”

  “Not polite,” she gasped.

  But when he circled his finger around her entrance and back inside with a head spinning thrust, she didn’t know if she was swearing or not. Or maybe it was a prayer.

  Lips curved, he lowered his head and licked her clit, teasing the top and sides with sizzling flicks. As he closed his lips around her and sucked, her senses reeled with stunned pleasure.

  Heat gathered, seeping like hot lava into her core. Oh, oh, she was going to come. Her thighs trembled with the hunger. She opened her eyes, seeing the moonglow all around, feeling only the wet tongue tracing exquisite circles down there and the slow penetrating in-and-out.

  He stopped.

  Her voice came out a hoarse whisper. “Noooo.”

  “Tighten up, darlin’.” Inside her, his finger moved in a blatantly carnal reminder of his order.

  She clamped her muscles down, feeling the heavy surge of need move through her.

  “Good girl.” He nuzzled her stomach. “This is what I expect from you when I’m inside you. Right now is practice.” His look of darkly erotic promise made her tighten involuntarily around him again.

  He laughed and closed his mouth around her clit. The drawing sensation as he sucked whipped through her system. His finger—two fingers—thrust in and out in a heady rhythm, swiftly driving her right up.

  Everything inside her clenched around his thrusting fingers as the pressure inside her increased. Sweat broke out over her body. When his tongue danced over her clit, her hips tried to rise to his mouth.

  He set his free hand on her mound to flatten her down. Using those fingers, he pulled her labia open, exposing the exquisitely sensitive nub completely.

  Arms over her head, legs spread…pussy held open. The sense of helplessness and vulnerability shuddered through her and rocked her to the core.

  His tongue tapped right on top of her clit repeatedly, and the nub swelled further, becoming impossibly sensitive.

  Her breathing slowed from panting to not breathing as muscle by muscle grew tense.

  Flick, flick flick. Each touch careened straight to her center. Flick, flick flick.

  The orgasm grew inside her, unbearably heavy, just waiting, like the fateful pause between the lightning strike and the crash of thunder.

  Flick, flick—

  Her release exploded, rolling through her in wave after wave of excruciating pleasure. His hand on her pelvis held her down. His fingers inside her felt huge as her sheath battered at them, the contractions going on and on until even the world seemed to shake.

  With a last lick of his tongue, he lifted his head and withdrew his fingers, sending another wave of sensation crashing through her. Despite the roaring in her head, his “mmmm” of enjoyment was clear.

nbsp; She heard a zipper. A crinkling sound.

  “The restraints.” She pulled at them, trying to move. “Please.”

  “You are where I want you, baby. And nice and open and wet.” His palm pressed on her exposed pussy, firm and almost hot, putting pressure on the sensitive nub.

  Another slow contraction rolled through her, making her shudder.

  He moved, and the lounge chair creaked as his knees came down between her legs. Palming her breast with one hand, he leaned forward, bracing himself with an arm beside her shoulder. His firm lips touched hers. His tongue teased and demanded. His weight pressed her down.

  As the lounge chair seemed to sink, the heady sea of arousal was pulling her under.

  “Zuri, look at me.”

  She opened her eyes. He’d removed his shirt. Moonlight gleamed on the rippling muscles of his shoulders and arms in a superb play of light and shadow. His chest hair made a dark inverted triangle over his solidly muscled pectorals. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Thank you.” As she sank again, he chuckled. “No, baby. Eyes on mine, and keep them there.”

  Even as she looked into his eyes, she felt the head of his cock at her entrance. He was…big. Really, really thick. Too thick.

  MAX SAW HER eyes widen then tighten from discomfort, and he paused for her to adjust. Although his dick wasn’t much above average in length, the girth could be a problem for some. He’d learned to go damned slow with new lovers. “Easy, baby. I’m in no hurry.”

  He smiled into her eyes and added a Dom’s warning. “But you’re going to take all of me.”

  The surrender in her trusting eyes pulled at his heart.

  After a second, he pressed in again, and she stretched around him. She was damned tight, squeezing his shaft like a cranked-down vise. As he eased farther in, he monitored her face and eyes for when he needed to stop.

  Pause. Press. Pause.

  She was panting, and her eyes were slightly wild when he was finally seated to the hilt, as intimate as a man could get with a woman.

  Possessing her—and being possessed, in turn. God had a hell of a sense of balance.

  With one hand, he reached up and yanked the Velcro free from her wrists. “You can touch, Zuri.”

  With a small sound of satisfaction, she put her hands on his shoulders.

  He smiled down at her, taking in the gentle angle of her cheek, the soft curve of her chin. All female. “Comfortable now?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. Then I’m going to take you hard.”

  A spark lit in her eyes, and damned if she didn’t smile and wrap her arms around his neck. Could she get any better? She enjoyed bondage, being dominated…and liked her sex a bit on the rough side.

  His cock hardened even more, and he withdrew and slid into her heat more firmly. Testing.

  Her low moan of pleasure was enough to speed him up. Damn, she felt good. Her breasts were soft and full against his chest. Her forehead was against his neck as she turned her head to bite over his collarbone.

  Fuck yes. He released his iron grip on his control and hammered into her.

  Her fingers gripped his hair, trying to pull him closer. Despite the ankle restraints, her hips tried to rise to his.

  The heat in his lower half grew, the pressure increasing even as he felt her core tighten around him.

  Her brows drew together with her concentration…as she did what he’d asked of her. “Tighten up, darlin’.”

  She wanted to please him.

  Nothing was sweeter to a Dom. With each thrust, he twisted his hips to slide his pelvis over her clit as he buried himself deep. She felt slick and silky and fucking amazing. He thrust faster. Harder. Pressure grew, a hot, heavy weight at the base of his spine.

  Her panting breaths were hot on his neck; her fingernails dug into his shoulders. And then she gave a high cry, her neck arched, and he felt the rhythmic clenching of her cunt in another release.

  Good girl. And he let himself go. Fiery pleasure blazed inside his balls and seared outward through his cock in mind-bending jerks as her spasming cunt did its best to squeeze him dry.

  When he released her legs, staying deep inside her for a few extra minutes, she buried her face against his shoulder. Was he supposed to have heard the tiny whispered thank you?

  Sometime later, when he figured his legs might bear weight again, he finished removing her dress, scooped her up, and carried her through the house to his room. To his bed.

  With a sigh of pleasure, he pulled her into his arms, her back against his chest, her arse against his groin. Half-asleep already, she laid her head on his upper arm and cuddled his hand between her breasts like a teddy bear.

  He’d thought she was hardhearted.

  He needed glasses.

  Chapter Fifteen

  IN THE MORNING, after a quick shower, Uzuri walked into the kitchen. The early morning sun gleamed into the airy Tuscan style kitchen with dark brown quartz countertops, golden brown maple and glass-front cabinets, and a pale travertine tile backsplash.

  Hunter was sprawled beside the square center island. The men were side-by-side at the stove. Alastair looked scrumptious in khaki shorts, a white polo shirt, and boat shoes.

  Max was equally delectable in his own rugged way. He hadn’t bothered to shave and his jaw showed a dark beard shadow. His collar-length, brown hair was still wet from a shower. His black shirt showed a zombie facing a sword-fighter and captioned: FENCING – A POST-APOCALYPTIC SURVIVAL SKILL.

  She so totally had to learn how to use a sword, well, once she got good at the hand-to-hand stuff. Who knew when the zombies might invade the US?

  Smiling, Uzuri breathed in the aroma of frying bacon. Why did everything that was unhealthy have to smell so good? Then again, she’d had enough aerobic exercise last night to justify eating an entire package.

  Wasn’t it odd to feel a lack of sleep—and like she was glowing? Unfortunately, she might also be walking bow-legged. The man had far too much stamina.

  He’d roused her at some ungodly dawn hour, saying he was going jogging, and she needed to give him a send-off in case he got hit by a car. Seriously, what kind of line was that?

  She’d tried to roll over and go back to sleep.

  The devil Dom had cheated. The merciless bastard had pinned her on her back and held a vibrator to her clit. When she was moaning and almost coming, he’d rolled her over and taken her from behind. And set the vibrator back on her clit. The combination was…deadly.

  She felt her cheeks flush, remembering her wailing orgasm. Even though Max’s bedroom was downstairs and his cousin’s upstairs, she’d probably woken Alastair up.

  At least Max had let her go back to sleep and hadn’t insisted that she join him and Hunter in their run. Gag.

  “Looks like our little sleeping beauty is up.” Max’s gaze ran over her, making her aware that her makeup wasn’t on, her feet were bare, and her hair pulled back with no styling at all. He smiled. “I like the casual look, princess.”

  When Alastair didn’t speak, a trickle of unease ran through her. Max had said they liked sharing, but what if he were wrong? What if Alastair was upset? She’d never have made love with Max if it would hurt Alastair.

  Alastair’s gaze swept over her, and her nerves jangled. Then he gifted her with his heartwarming smile.

  Oh, thank heavens, he wasn’t angry.

  Stepping away from the stove, he silently held out a hand.

  When she reached him, he pulled her against him for a languorous kiss, wet and hot. By the time he finished, she knew he wasn’t upset in the least. He lifted his head. “You look as if you and Max had a good time last night. I’m pleased.”

  She frowned. “He said you deliberately went to bed, leaving us down here together.”

  The flash of his white grin said it all. He had.

  He ran a finger around her obviously swollen lips. “Since you look quite well-satisfied, you should thank me rather than yell at me.”
  As if she’d ever yell.

  Max leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “I agree. Tell Alastair, ‘Thank you, Sir, for sharing me with your cousin.’ ”

  But… That felt so wrong.

  When Alastair was amused, his eyes turned more green than brown. Lighter. They were very green now. “Are you going to be disobedient, little miss?”


  “Hope so.” Max grinned. “I’ll put you on your back there.” He nodded at the table in the breakfast nook. “I’ll hold your legs up in the air with your feet over your head—to make sure the doc has a good field of fire. While he paddles your ass, I’ll play with your clit.”

  At the wave of heat that roared through her, her knees actually wobbled.

  “Sit down before you fall, Uzuri.” Laughing, Alastair guided her to sit at the table.

  Before she got into something she wasn’t sure she was ready for, she rushed out, “Thank you, Alastair. Sir. Thank you for sharing me with your cousin.”

  “Very nice, love.”

  As Max carried a stack of pancakes into the nook, he told Alastair, “Pity. I was hoping she’d stay silent.”

  “There will be another time.” Alastair’s eyes were still on her and held enough heat to set the ocean on fire.

  As she arranged the dishes on the table, the two Doms brought out scrambled eggs and bacon, a pitcher of orange juice, and a pot of coffee. An antique teapot already sat on the table.

  Max took the chair to her right.

  Following the food, Hunter disappeared under the table. Before she’d taken even a bite, his paw came to rest on her bare foot as if to remind her she had bacon…and a forlorn puppy was wasting away to fur and bones because of her neglect.

  After putting butter and syrup on the table, Alastair sat to her left. “What do you two have planned for today?”

  “I’m helping Andrea’s family with some last minute stuff for the reception.” Uzuri couldn’t explain further since she’d been sworn to silence.

  Max glanced at the kitchen clock. “This afternoon, I’m picking up some relatives of Cullen’s from the airport. Apparently, they decided at the last minute to attend the wedding. Then I’ll spend some time at the gun range.”

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