Love Under Two Masters [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  How often had Christopher said that to her in the past? Later, when they lay sated in each other’s arms, she’d tell him the truth.

  When it came to the men she loved, there was no such thing as being too generous.

  “I love you both, and I need very desperately to feel both of your cocks inside my body at the same time.”

  “Then sheathe us, love, so we can give you what you need.”

  Chapter 8

  She loved doing this, loved stroking and arousing her men then covering their cocks with condoms.

  She followed her master’s orders and prepared Rory first. When she had the condom open, ready to slide onto him, Christopher said, “When we return home, we’ll all of us be tested. Since we’re going to be together and exclusive forever, we’ll be safe to do without the latex.”

  Daisy thought that was a fine idea but needed to remind him, “I’m not on the pill. So I’ll have to get a prescription.”

  “I’d really much rather you got pregnant, instead.”

  Oh, God. Just the image of a baby—Christopher’s or Rory’s—growing inside her ignited her passion into a smoldering, molten burn. This was her deepest desire, her greatest wish in the world. And these men, these wonderful, loving men were offering to make that wish come true.

  “Yes, please, Master. I want your babies. Both of your babies.”

  “You’ll have them,” Rory said.

  He reached for her, pulled her over him, and said, “Take my cock into that hungry cunt of yours, my little sub. Fuck me and squeeze me with your inner muscles.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Daisy loved it when Rory topped her, when his hands and his voice became a little rough with his passion and his need. She slid onto his cock, relishing the fullness as he seated himself in her to the hilt. Her clit tingled with the nearness of the nest surrounding his shaft, and she tilted her hips enough to rub that nubbin against the coarse hair.

  “Mm, you always look so lithe and graceful as you fuck my lover, sweet Daisy.” Christopher knelt behind her on the bed. He nuzzled her neck, his lips and tongue heavy with the musk of her own secretions, the most exotic and erotic of perfumes.

  “Darling, I love watching your cock move in and out of her cunt. How does she feel?”

  “Like velvet.” Rory’s voice, ragged with emotion, shivered low in her belly. She leaned back, turned her head so that her mouth came close to Christopher’s.

  “Kiss me, please.”

  “Of course.” He closed his mouth over hers, his tongue dominating hers as he swept in and out in a feral, mating rhythm. He eased away and said, “Share that with him.”

  Daisy grinned and turned to Rory. That man’s gaze seared her, and she knew he’d grown harder inside her as he’d watched her kiss their master.

  “Taste us.” She leaned down and gave him the essence of man and woman, and he gulped it and her, his need as hot and heavy as her own.

  Christopher moved so that he knelt behind her. She raised her ass and moaned into Rory’s mouth as she felt his hand caress the flesh of her ass. “Does it sting?”

  She eased her lips from Rory’s and looked over her shoulder to answer him. “No, love, truly, I don’t even feel them.”

  “Good.” His voice, warm satin, slid over her soul in the same way, moments later, he had lube sliding between the cheeks of her ass, centered on her anus.

  Her master pushed his fingers into her as he’d done only minutes before. This time, her rosebud opened more easily, her sphincter giving way as if remembering the commanding touch of its master.

  Daisy shivered as she felt those fingers leave her, only to be replaced by the hot, round latex-covered head of Christopher’s cock.

  His hands gripped her ass cheeks, spreading them, as he pushed against her with a steady, gentle but unrelenting pressure.

  “Relax, baby.” Rory eased her chest down so that her head lay upon his chest. “Surrender to us, now, Daisy, surrender to your masters.”

  Daisy sighed and focused her will on relaxing the muscles of her legs and ass, releasing her command of them, making herself open and completely vulnerable to the power, and the will, and the cocks of her masters.

  She felt the burning of her flesh stretching as Christopher pushed his cock into her, as he forced his cock into her tiny rosebud opening. Burn and sting morphed into very real pain, but an erotic pain which fed the already turbulent waves of arousal buffeting her body and searing her soul.

  Erotic pain seemed like a satin ribbon that wound its way over and through and around her arousal, making it bigger, three-dimensional, pure sex and pure ecstasy.

  Daisy couldn’t help it, she whimpered in need even as she pressed back against Christopher, pressed back with more and more strength until she felt his cock fully breach her anus and slide into her, going deep.

  His balls bounced lightly against her cunt, and she shivered, the remembered pleasure paling compared to the hot, shivering reality of having two cocks inside her body.

  She couldn’t hold back, couldn’t keep silent. “Fuck me, oh, God, please, please. Fuck me hard!”

  “Yes.” Rory’s hiss of pleasure filled her heart and heated her blood. “You’re so fucking tight, Daisy, and, God, how wonderful to feel my master’s cock inside you.”

  “It’s like I’m fucking you both at the same time.” Christopher pulled nearly all the way out and then plunged home again. “Nothing has ever felt as good as this. Nothing, no one, can top this. Not ever.”

  Daisy’s passion grew, overwhelming her with such a potent mixture of emotion and arousal she felt transported outside of herself, as if the bonds of the physical world could no longer hold her. Emboldened, molten, she moved, dipping her hips down and forward, then out and back, taking a motion demanded from deep inside of her, a motion and rhythm as old as life itself. She gave, and she took, her capacity for pleasure above anything she’d ever experienced, her need to serve the two cocks inside her the most basic need she knew.

  This was more than passion. This was even more than love. This was destiny, and she surrendered to it, and the men who took and were taken by her. She fucked and was fucked and knew that here and now as never before, she’d finally evolved into the woman she’d always yearned to be. Total, healthy, whole.

  “Yes, oh, yes!” Her climax shattered her, wringing tears and shivers from the very depths of her psyche. The liquid fire of ecstasy, of the thrusting, heaving, coming men within her, filled her body. Their loving filled the emptiness and the cracks and the scars in her soul caused from a lifetime of being alone. They filled her up and made her complete again, new again.

  They made her loved, and wanted, and theirs.

  Aftershocks shivered through her, and she could only lay, emptied and yet so very full on top of one master as the other slowly and carefully withdrew himself from her body.

  Christopher kissed her shoulder. “Don’t move, baby, I’ll be right back.”

  Daisy could barely grunt in response.

  Rory’s hands languidly caressed up and down her back, soothing her as they both fought for breath. Then she felt Christopher return, felt him gently clean her with a warm, damp cloth. He used his hot breath to air-dry her. She felt her mouth slide into a stupid grin, and she didn’t care.

  Then he lifted her, allowing Rory to roll away and get off the bed, go into the bathroom. By the time Christopher had tucked her under the blankets and pulled her into his arms, Rory returned.

  He paused for a moment and opened the drawer of the nightstand.

  His low whistle preceded his question. “Mother of God, woman, how many condoms did you bring?”

  Daisy giggled, and snuggled more deeply against Christopher. “Only a couple of dozen. The rest were already here.”

  “Only a couple of dozen, she says.”

  “I think we can manage to use up a fair number of them.” Christopher kissed the top of her head. “After a nap.”

  “A nap sounds like a damn fine idea to me.” Rory mo
ved in close on her other side, and Daisy sighed with the pure pleasure of being tucked in tight between these two virile and studly men.

  “Mm.” Christopher ran his hand down Daisy’s body. “You are going to marry us, aren’t you, love? I know you can only have one legal husband—that will be me—but we’ll both consider you to be our wife.”

  “Yes, please. Nothing could make me happier.” Daisy thought she might spend the rest of her life, in fact, giving thanks.

  After a long moment, Rory kissed her shoulder. “So tell me something, Daisy-May.” Rory’s words puffed against the dampness from his lips, his arm surrounding her so that his hand rested on Christopher.

  She smiled in response to the nickname no one but him had ever used. Hell, I might never stop smiling.

  “What would you like to know, my love?”

  “Are we really stranded out here with no communications or a means of transportation back to civilization?”

  Before Daisy could answer, Christopher did.

  “No. There’s a computer in the downstairs pantry, connected by satellite to the Internet. I told Robert Jessop that if he didn’t hear from us within a couple of hours, to give us three days. So the chopper—or the Jeep—will be back on Thursday.”

  Daisy felt everything inside her go perfectly still. She moved, but only enough so that she could meet Christopher’s gaze.

  His laughing gaze, she amended.

  “You knew all along?”

  “Darling, you went to Jordan Fitzpatrick and Robert Jessop for help.”

  Rory snickered. “Jordan Fitzpatrick, the Dom who owns Reckless Abandon? I take it this Robert is a Dom, as well?”

  “He is,” Christopher answered him. Then he stroked Daisy’s chin. “Of course they checked with me before agreeing to ‘help’ you, my little sub.” And then he proved that he knew her better than anyone else had, ever. “I was so fucking grateful you made the first move, my Daisy. I’d almost given up hope of ever getting the two of you back.”

  “So you’re not mad at me for conniving and, um, manipulating?”

  “Mad? No, of course not.”

  She laid her head back on his chest and sighed.

  “Of course, there is the small matter of your habit of topping from the bottom,” Christopher said.

  “We will have to do something about that,” Rory agreed.

  Daisy grinned. “I don’t care. As long as I get to live the rest of my life making love under two masters, I’m good.”

  “You’re more than good, Daisy.” Rory’s hand stroked her breast.

  “You’re the best—and the perfect mate for us both,” Christopher said.

  Daisy couldn’t have agreed more.

  THE END

  WWW.MORGANASHBURY.COM

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Morgan Ashbury writing as Cara Covington:

  Morgan has been a writer since she was first able to pick up a pen. In the beginning it was a hobby, a way to create a world of her own, and who could resist the allure of that? Then as she grew and matured, life got in the way, as life often does. She got married and had three children, and worked in the field of accounting, for that was the practical thing to do and the children did need to be fed. And all the time she was being practical, she would squirrel herself away on quiet Sunday afternoons, and write.

  Most children are raised knowing the Ten Commandments and the Golden Rule. Morgan’s children also learned the Paper Rule: thou shalt not throw out any paper that has thy mother’s words upon it.

  Believing in tradition, Morgan ensured that her children’s children learned this rule, too.

  Life threw Morgan a curve when, in 2002, she underwent emergency triple by-pass surgery. Second chances are to be cherished, and with the encouragement and support of her husband, Morgan decided to use hers to do what she’d always dreamed of doing: writing full time.

  Morgan has always loved writing romance. It is the one genre that can incorporate every other genre within its pulsating heart. Romance showcases all that humankind can aspire to be. And, she admits, she’s a sucker for a happy ending.

  Morgan’s favorite hobbies are reading, cooking, and traveling—though she would rather you didn’t mention that last one to her husband. She has too much fun teasing him about having become a “Traveling Fool” of late.

  Morgan lives in Southwestern Ontario, Canada, with a mysterious cat, a dog that has no dignity, and her husband of thirty-nine years, David.

  For all titles by Cara Covington, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/cara-covington

  For all titles by Cara Covington writing as

  Morgan Ashbury, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

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