Mischief and the Masters by Cherise Sinclair

  Two Doms. One a master of pain, one a master of pleasure. Her clit was exquisitely sensitive from the vibrator Max had used. Her pussy and back hole still throbbed from the double-headed dildo.

  Pain and pleasure. Her Dragon Doms were really, really scary.

  She turned her head to locate Max.

  There he was beside the bed. As he removed his shirt, muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin.

  “You’re so pretty.” Her voice came out hoarse.

  Catching her watching, Max simply grinned.

  She turned to look at Alastair.

  His aquamarine shirt was unbuttoned, and the smooth, dark expanse of streamlined muscle was a feast for her eyes.

  “You, too.” When had she come to adore how big her Doms were?

  “Why, thank you, sweetheart.” Openly amused, Alastair ran a finger over her lower lip, before bending to kiss her lightly.

  The bed sagged as Max lay down beside her. He started playing with her hair, pulling a braid apart and combing the strands out with his fingers.

  She couldn’t summon up the energy to swat his fingers. “Don’t make me hurt you, white boy.” Her eyes started to drift shut.

  Max chuckled…and didn’t stop messing with her hair. “I look forward to the battle, black girl.”

  Without opening her eyes, she smiled. It was odd how closeness could transform uncomfortable words into an expression of affection.

  But if he called her his Nubian princess again, she’d put his flogger through the office shredder.

  “Don’t go to sleep, Uzuri,” Alastair warned. “We’re not through with you.”

  Pleased, she roused. They’d played with her, but hadn’t…taken…her yet. Neither Dom had gotten off. “I was wondering when we’d get to the good stuff.”

  He smiled. “We will, indeed, get to the good stuff. First, there is something you should know.”

  “Oh. All right.” Warm and sated, cuddled between the two strong bodies, Uzuri figured she could take anything they wanted to say. “Shoot, Sir.”

  He picked up her hand. His trimmed dark beard framed lips that had done devastating things to her mere minutes past. His eyes, deep brown in the dim light, met hers. “We love you, Uzuri.”

  “What?” Her heart stopped. Simply skipped a whole slew of beats. She stared. “You love me?”

  “Told you she hadn’t caught on.” Max cupped her chin in his big, callused hand and turned her head. “Look at me, little mischief.”

  Her eyes met his.

  Cop eyes. Piercing. Determined. His voice held a low growl as he said, “I love you with everything in me. I want you as my woman. My lover. And my submissive.”

  Love? She couldn’t find enough air, and her voice came out a whisper. “Yours?”

  “Mine—and ours.” Max looked over her head at his cousin.

  With a hand on her cheek, Alastair turned her head toward him. “I love you, Uzuri. You are mine—and ours. We want you here with us.”

  At the warmth—the love—in his eyes, her heart swelled, filling her chest, filling her world. “You love me.” Impossible. Amazing. Wonderful.

  The earth itself seemed to tremble as joy resounded through her world. They loved her. Alastair and Max loved her. And wanted her to stay. She could have them both.

  Could take care of them.

  Could go to them when she was troubled or upset. Could comfort them when they had problems. Push them to talk.

  Could tuck one in at night and sleep with the other. Wake up with muscular arms around her. Because they loved her. “Omigod.” Her fingers closed around Alastair’s hand, and her left hand groped for and found Max’s. “Omigod.”

  “Yeah, there. I think she got it.” The laughter in Max’s voice brought her gaze to his face.

  “I love you, too,” she whispered.

  The amusement in Max’s eyes transmuted to blue heat.

  She turned to look into Alastair’s dark face. Clean lines, square jaw, strength in every feature. “I love you.”

  “I know.” He kissed her gently, tenderly, coaxing her full response. His firm hand held her in place as his kiss deepened, possessed—and gradually turned so carnal that her toes curled under the wave of heat.

  When Alastair pulled back, Max rubbed his knuckles down her cheek. “Are you ready to take us both this time?”

  Both? At once? Her mouth went dry. However, although still frightening, the idea was exciting, too. Her Doms claiming her together. She shivered. “Yes.”

  “Very good.” Alastair leaned over and took her lips again. The room spun around her as she gave him everything he wanted. Although she felt Max leave the bed, she didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

  Sometime later, she heard Max call, “Ready, cuz.”

  Releasing her, Alastair rose to stand beside the bed and stripped off his clothes.

  She sighed with pleasure. Broad shoulders, flat stomach, long, long erection. Neatly shaved groin—he’d made her shave him last time. Maybe Max would trust her to do the same someday. Unable to resist, she stroked her hand down his stomach.

  “Come here, beautiful.” He scooped her off the bed, making her squeak, and carried her toward the sliding glass doors. The chocolate brown drapes were pulled back. On the patio outside, the last rays of the setting sun danced off the pond waters.

  Max waited near the corner inside the doors. Completely, powerfully male—and magnificently erect.

  Several leather straps dangled from chains anchored to a big bolt in the ceiling.

  “Didn’t something else hang there?” She eyed the ceiling and looked around. Yes, a pot of trailing golden pothos had hung in the bedroom corner previously.

  “Good memory.” Max held open a strap.

  Alastair slid her right leg into the opening. After they did the same with her left leg, Max fitted the straps to her upper thighs. As Alastair turned her in his arms, Max encircled her upper arms with other straps. A final leather band ran between two chains to support her back.

  Alastair moved her hands to the chains beside her shoulders. “Hang on.”

  When she complied, Max secured her wrists to the chains with Velcro straps. “We’ll just make sure your hands stay out of our way.”

  Her pulse kicked up a notch. Both of them at once. In a… This was a sex swing.

  As Alastair released her and moved away, she stared at the straps around her thighs. The sex swing in the Shadowlands resembled a leather hammock in which the submissive would lay almost flat.

  This one, though…

  With her weight supported by the thigh straps, she was sitting almost upright. This was like a real swing.

  She’d always liked swing sets.

  With an uncontrollable giggle, she tried to set it to rocking.

  Max chuckled. “Don’t worry, mischief. We’ll have everything moving real soon.” When he pushed her legs apart and stepped between her thighs, she realized the height of the swing was perfect for…for insertion.

  Her laughter vanished.

  His intense blue gaze met hers. “You ready?”

  For two cocks at once. She bit her lip.

  “Uzuri.” Standing beside her, Alastair ran his hand over her loose hair. “We want you to try this once. If you don’t like it, we won’t play this way again.”

  But what if… Her voice emerged, shaking. “Will you still—”

  “Love you?” Alastair’s expression turned tender. “Would you still love me if I didn’t like oral sex?”

  “Of course. That doesn’t have anything to do with—” When Max snorted, she got it. “Oh.”

  “Exactly.” Gripping her hair, Max tilted her head back and kissed her slowly, taking his time. Oh, he could kiss so well.

  When he stopped, she felt Alastair behind her. His hard chest warmed her back. Oh, oh, oh, they were going to start. She wasn’t ready.

  “Better begin, cuz, before our princess gets too anxious.” Max’s gaze lingered on her face, then her hands where she had a deat
h grip on the chains. “Breathe, darlin’.”

  She tried, she did, only she heard Alastair donning a condom, and he pressed his erection against her anus, and it felt ever so much bigger than the plug. She was still slick from the lubricant they’d applied earlier, and—

  When Max skimmed one finger over her swollen, sensitive clit, she jerked as the stunning pleasure blazed into a flashing fire. “Oh, moooore…”

  “You’ll get more, baby.”

  Pressure built against her anus. “Push back against me,” Alastair murmured.

  She tried, knowing it would help, and after an uncomfortable moment, the head of his cock slipped in. He was huge. She tried to turn, to push him away—but her wrists were restrained. She struggled, feeling impaled. Helpless.

  And the realization sent a wave of heat through her.

  “Easy, love.” His crooning baritone soothed her nerves. Slowly, gently, he worked his way in. When she squirmed, Alastair cupped her right breast. His other hand closed tighter on her hip, holding her as his cock continued the merciless penetration until his groin pressed against her buttocks.

  He bent to kiss the curve between her shoulder and neck. “All in, sweetheart.”

  “Okay.” Her backside throbbed painfully around the intrusion. Her voice cracked as she revised her answer. “Y-yes, Sir.”

  In front of her, Max was studying her again. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’ll get better.”

  Alastair’s voice rumbled in her ear. “No hurry, love. Get used to the feeling.” He didn’t move.

  Panting slightly, she remained frozen, feeling Alastair’s warm hand on her breast, the pressure of Max’s hand cupping her pussy…and the impossible searing ache in her backside.

  Gradually, the discomfort eased to a milder burn, and…more. Something wanton and hot quickened in her core, and a disconcerting arousal wakened.

  Max’s keen gaze lifted from her face to his cousin, and he nodded.

  “Excellent.” Unhurriedly, Alastair pulled back, and she heard him apply more lubricant before he pressed back in. His slick cock was cool as it entered her, and then heated inside her. As he eased in and out, the leisurely sliding sent electricity sizzling directly to her core.

  As need lit a fire in her veins, she trembled.

  “There we go.” With one hand, Alastair rolled her left nipple. When his fingers pinched harder, a shocking zing shot through her, and her anus clenched, making him laugh. “Max, let’s see how it goes.”

  As Alastair gripped her hips firmly, she knew how well they had positioned her to be taken. Her pussy and anus were at exactly the right height. Her hands were restrained high and out of the way.

  Standing between her open thighs, Max kissed her lightly. “Little mischief.” She met his intense eyes. “You tell us if something hurts.”

  Nodding, she braced herself. Not that there was anything at all she could do to help or to hinder. And somehow, her helplessness only added to the erotic heat and set up a flutter in her stomach.

  ALASTAIR’S HANDS ON her hips tightened as he slid out of her back hole. At the same time, Max steadily pressed into her vagina until his cock was seated to the hilt.

  Her breathing caught as she stretched around the hot, thick invasion.

  Without stopping, Max withdrew as deliberately.

  Alastair thrust in. The feeling—oh God, the feeling of being taken by the two of them was overwhelming. Everything down there was stretching. The two cocks were sliding in and out, separated by only the thinnest of membranes. Pleasure swelled, billowing outward, until it was simply devastating.

  Her moan filled the room, and Alastair chuckled.

  As he drew out, Max bent to kiss her lightly, his steady blue gaze on her face. “She can take more, cuz.”

  Alastair pulled back; Max surged in.

  “Then let’s give her more.” Keeping one hand on her right hip, Alastair reached around to cup her mound. His fingers brushed over her clit. At the hot rush of sensation, everything inside her clamped around Max’s rigid shaft.

  Max laughed. “Oh, yeah.” His right hand gripped her left hip, holding her in place. With the other hand, he started to tease her nipples into distended, aching peaks.

  As the Doms alternated thrusting and withdrawing, the exquisite torment grew so intense, she started to shake. Her core steadily tightened around them until every tiny movement consumed her world.

  Alastair’s finger relentlessly circled her clit.

  Her body gathered, each muscle tensing as her insides shivered around the Doms’ rhythmic penetrations: front, back, front, back… “Oh, oh, oh.”

  “Let go, love,” Alastair whispered, and as if her body had required permission, she climaxed…and each successive wave of pleasure grew more and more overwhelming. Her core spasmed around one thick shaft, then the other, and her cries echoed around the room.

  As the contractions diminished, and her heart thumped crazily in her chest, the men slowed further, giving her time to recover. The swing was rocking slightly. Her sweaty palms were slick on the chains.

  “Thank you for trusting us, sweetheart.” Alastair kissed the top of her head.

  “Mmmhmm.” Oh, how she loved them. She saw Max was smiling, and the way he looked at her, as if she delighted his eyes, simply made her bones melt.

  “Hang on tight, darlin’.” Max glanced over her head at Alastair.

  “Wh-what?” Uzuri gripped the chains.

  “Good girl.” Alastair chuckled. “Yes, now, Max.”

  Their hands tightened on her hips, and suddenly, their speed increased. Alastair’s long shaft thrust into her anus—and withdrew even as Max’s thickness pressed into her pussy. Her Doms hammered her, fast and hard, ruthlessly alternating so she was never without a cock inside her.

  Her back arched as the glorious sensations pulsed through her, building the pleasure to new, impossible heights, and drowning out the rest of the world.

  Another orgasm erupted in dazzling explosions, shuddering through her so intensely that the room flashed white. Her fingers, her toes, even her hair tingled with the pulse of her climax.

  Alastair rumbled his pleasure, pressed in deeply, even as Max also thrust in, and the two filled her to the point of pain. As she cried out at the impossible, soul-shattering pleasure, they wrapped their arms around her, squeezing her between them as they came, as well. All three. Together.

  And the sense of their love and loving was the greatest joy she had ever known.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “YEAH, WELL, I’LL be here. Sorry.” Holt hung up before he descended into rudeness. The scheduler at the fire station hated adjusting for injuries—especially ones incurred off the job—and Holt’s Saturday afternoon call hadn’t made him happy at all. Too bad. Considering the entire station knew about the attack, the dumbass’d had enough warning.

  Holt clicked the phone off. At least he was out of ICU and in a regular hospital room where he could see people and make phone calls. Turning slightly, he reached to set the phone on the over-the-bed tray table. Christ. Moving only that much set off explosions of pain in Holt’s gut and back.

  A sound had him turning toward the door. Pain. He muffled a groan. Yeah, don’t move so fast, idiot.

  “Oh my God.” Barely inside the room, Nadia stared at him, green eyes shocked. “Warren said you’d been hurt. I hadn’t realized. Look at you.”

  Thanks, no. He glanced down anyway. Gauze was wrapped around his arms to keep him from irritating all the newly closed knife wounds up and down his forearms. At least the butt-ugly hospital gown covered the bigger dressings on his back and belly.

  Only…she wasn’t looking at anything except his face.

  Her gaze was locked on the long slice from cheekbone to jaw and the gash on his chin. Without thinking, Holt fingered the line of knotted off stitches. The stiff ends of the thread felt like fucking fishing line. Attempting a smile, he said lightly, “Sorry about the mess. The guy had a big knife.”

  Why the fuck was he apologizing?

  No, cut her a break. She’d had a shock. He could read every emotion crossing her face. Definitely a shock.

  There was also a hell of a lot of revulsion.

  Holt cleared his throat. “Nadia. Did you come with a friend?”

  “Uh. Yes.” She waved toward the door. “Di brought me so we could go on and have drinks. It’s happy hour.”

  “I see.” Hadn’t planned to stay long, had she? A knot of pain unrelated to his injuries took up residence under his ribs. He’d thought they had something…more…but apparently not. She was intelligent and fun to talk with, personable, interesting, and good in bed. It seemed he’d forgotten to look for compassion. Perhaps he’d gotten spoiled by the generous nature of the Shadowlands submissives.

  “So, are you doing all right?” She hesitated and added reluctantly, “Is there anything you’d like me to bring you?”

  He wouldn’t mind if she brought him a lover who wouldn’t bail when the going got rough. However, that wasn’t what she wanted to know.

  Holt shook his head. “I’ll be fine. You go ahead and enjoy your evening.”

  “Sounds good.” The relief in her smile told him everything he needed to know. Hell, she hadn’t even touched him.

  Before she could get out the door, he went ahead and bit the bullet. “Nadia.”

  She turned, tensed as if she was worried that he’d ask her to stay.

  Not in this lifetime.

  “I’ll mail you the things you left at my place.” In case she had any doubts as to what he was saying, he added, “I hope you find a guy who can make you happy.”

  Mouth open, she flushed, then paled…and walked out the door.

  Well. He had to say—that sucked.

  After contemplating his dismal luck with females, he realized he was gritting his teeth. Because he hurt. Should he punch the IV button for a hit of pain medication or gut through it?

  Before he could decide, a little whirlwind rushed into the room.

  “Holt.” Uzuri skidded to a stop beside his bed. Her expression held the same appalled shock as Nadia’s—and then her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, boo.” She took his hand, ever so carefully, barely moving after she saw the heavy dressings on his wrist and arms.

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