Her Three Protectors [The Hot Millionaires #3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (14 page)

BOOK: Her Three Protectors [The Hot Millionaires #3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
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Troy smiled as he thought of the tussles he’d had with him and Adam in the early days when they were all raw conscripts in the same unit, vying for supremacy. Even then, Troy realized now, there’d been a degree of inevitability about their future—almost like they’d been thrown together for a reason. They were from different backgrounds, different cultures even, but they gelled for all that, complementing one another’s strengths and protecting one another’s backs in tight situations without the need to be asked. That had never changed over the years, nor would it.

But a permanent woman in their organized existence? Would it work? Troy flexed his jaw. Hell, the way he felt right now it would damned well have to, because he had no intention of letting Porcha get away from him.

The time passed quickly, and when Adam reappeared to start prepping his gourmet meal, Troy went to wake Porcha.

Beck wagged a finger at him as he left the lounge. “No sneaking a quickie.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Troy grinned. “Half the fun is making her wait until she begs for it.”

Beck returned his grin. “Ain’t that the truth.”

Troy let himself into Porcha’s room without knocking.

She appeared to be sound asleep, but Troy wasn’t taking any chances. He had no intention of sitting on the bed and being coerced into it by the sexy little witch who didn’t seem to be able to get enough of any of them.

“Wake up, Porcha,” he said authoritatively.

She sat up immediately, confirming that she’d been awake all the time. The cover slipped from her tits, and he was hard-pressed to contain a groan. His cock was rigid. Nothing new there. He’d been in a permanent state of arousal ever since he’d met her.

“Get up.”

She threw back the covers and stood naked in front of him.

“Put this on.”

He handed her the garment he wanted her to wear but didn’t help her with it. Without hesitating, she stepped into the tight black PVC dress with thin shoulder straps and a hemline that barely cleared her ass.

“Christ!”

She looked spectacular. The top was too tight for her tits, and they spilled out of the cups. There were lace panels down the front, back, and sides of the dress, and it was so short that the cheeks of her ass were apparent every time she moved.

“Something wrong, master?” she asked, a little too innocently.

“Absolutely nothing.” He cleared his throat. “I have something else for you. Something that you’ll wear all the time while in this house if you’re comfortable with it.” He fastened a studded collar round her neck. “Put these on as well.”

He handed her a pair of strappy shoes with four-inch heels. She sat on the edge of the bed, slipped her feet into them, and fastened them in place.

“Take a look at yourself.”

He held out a hand to her and led her to the full-length mirror. She gasped when she saw herself, which was hardly surprising. She was the sexiest goddamned woman he’d ever seen. She even managed to make tacky PVC look classy. He wondered if she saw herself in the same light, wondered if the clothing made her feel as sexy as she looked. Her green eyes sparkled with anticipation, her tousled hair fell all over her shoulders, and her nipples pushed against the fabric of the dress, the tops of her aureoles spilling out as though they couldn’t stand being covered up. They didn’t need to worry. It wouldn’t be for long.

“What do you think?” he asked, grasping her shoulders from behind.

“What I think doesn’t matter. I want you to be pleased with me, master.”

Troy chuckled. “I think I can promise you that all three of us will be pleased to have you at our table tonight. In fact,” he added, dropping his head and nuzzling her ear, “you might well finish up being the main course.” He led her away from the mirror. “Lean over the bed and stick your ass in the air. I have something else for you.”

She did as he asked, and Troy applied a generous dollop of lube to the crack in her ass, working it into her anus with one finger. As soon as she was slick, he inserted a butt plug, pushing it all the way home, helped by Porcha, who pushed against it and sighed when she’d taken it all.

“Stand up and squeeze your ass cheeks together.” He could see that she did as he asked. “It’s full of oil that will heat up inside you and drive you wild. It’ll also dilate you enough for what we plan to do to you later.”

Porcha licked her lips and smiled but, well-trained sub that she was, asked no questions.

“That dress.” He shook his head. “I was gonna save these for later, but they seem kinda appropriate.” He delved into his bag and produced clover nipple clamps attached to one another by a chain. “Come here.”

She stepped up to him, and Troy pushed the flimsy fabric away from first one nipple and then the other, attaching the clamps to the accompaniment of soft sighs from Porcha. He pulled the fabric back in place when he was done, knowing it would rub against her hardened, sensitized nipples and really turn her on.

“Like that?”

“Hmm, it’s heavenly.”

“It’s gonna get a bit rough tonight, Porcha, but you do know you can call a halt any time you like?” He reached out to touch her and abruptly pulled his hand back again. If he touched her just once he’d end up shagging her. That’s how desperate she made him, especially the way she looked right now in her tarty clothing, her nipples clamped, his plug up her ass, their collar round her neck…Fuck it, he wanted her so much he could barely think straight.

“Don’t bail on me, Troy. I love all this stuff. I love the way the three of you look at me. How your cocks stand to attention whenever I’m around.” She smiled. “I’m submitting to you, but when I see what I do to you, I feel as though I’m the one in control.”

How right she is!
“Just so long as you’re completely sure.”

“Absolutely, completely sure.”

Troy wrapped her in his arms and kissed her with tenderness. “I’m so glad,” he said, smiling into her eyes when he finally released her.

“Okay, I’m going downstairs now. Wait until I call and then walk down slowly. I want the others to get a real eyeful.”

“Yes, master.”

Chapter
Eleven

 

Porcha ran a brush through her tangled mane of hair whilst she waited to be summoned, her lips burning from the searing passion of Troy’s kiss. She was so excited about the night to come that her fingers could barely grip the brush. She glanced at her reflection and almost didn’t recognize herself. The flushed face, the gleam of anticipation in her eye, the sexy clothing, the nipple clamps, the plug heating in her butt—she was so damned turned-on that she was tempted to do something about it then and there.

“Get a grip!” she said aloud. “They’ll know, and it won’t please them.”

And Porcha definitely wanted to please her three masters. Their games were a hundred times removed from the humiliations she’d suffered at Sal’s hands. He wanted to possess her, to own her, to make her grovel before him in public because he had some sort of twisted point to prove.

Troy, Beck, and Adam wanted to love her, to give pleasure in return for receiving it, and would never intentionally hurt her or cause her embarrassment. She hadn’t known them for long but already trusted them implicitly. They wanted to play as hard as they worked, and who was she to object when all three of them seemed so intensely focused on her? Doubts about her ability to hold their interest filtered through her brain, but she shut them out. Failure simply wasn’t an option. She could do this! She
wanted
to do it. No one controlled her head anymore, and she was free to please herself.

“It’s time, Porcha.”

Troy’s softly spoken command intruded on her introspective thoughts. Her pulse rate increased as she prepared to make her entrance, hoping her lovers would like what they saw. If they reacted true to form, she’d be confronted with three rock-hard cocks primed and ready for action. Hell, her pussy was leaking already, just at the thought of it. She dashed into the bathroom and cleaned herself up, then tossed her head back, winked at her reflection, and left the room.

“I’m coming, masters,” she said in a sultry voice.

“You’d better not be until we say you can!”

Beck, of course. Always the joker. Except she guessed he wasn’t joking about this. Porcha really would have to try and find a little discipline and keep her impulses in check. Problem was, their taunting, the way in which they took her to the brink only to hold back and forbid her to come until they said she could, was exquisite agony. She’d never known anything that came close to the thrill she got from submitting to them but didn’t think she’d ever be able to match their level of control.

She set one high-heeled foot on the top step, grasped the bannister for support, and walked down the stairs slowly, aware that they’d have a perfect view of her naked pussy from beneath the open slats. A collective intake of male breath told her they were taking a good long look.

“Fuck it, Troy, what have you done to her?” Adam asked.

“Who gives a shit
how
he did it,” Beck answered. “Let’s just make the most of the results.”

Adam dropped his chin into his cupped hand, watching her as she slowly made her way to join them. “She got a plug in her butt?”

“Yep.”

“Thought so.” The men continued to discuss her as though she couldn’t hear them. “You can always tell by the way they walk with their ass cheeks squeezed together.”

Porcha reached the ground floor and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She deliberately made eye contact with each of them, which would probably get her spanked, and then dropped her gaze to the floor, waiting to be told what to do next. She could see that they all wanted to step forward and touch her, but none of them did.

“Sit in the swivel chair by the window,” Troy said.

Porcha sashayed her way to the chair in question and sat down, knees primly pressed together. Her nipples ached from the pressure of the clamps, but pleasantly so, the fabric of her skimpy dress rubbing against them and sending fine tremors of expectancy lancing through her. All three men stood a little way away from her. Troy leaned against the mantelpiece, Adam and Beck flanking him, their gazes focused on her like they’d never seen her before.

“Guess it’s cocktail time.”

Adam went into the kitchen and returned with a chilled bottle of champagne. Popping the cork without spilling a single drop, he poured the wine into four flutes and handed one to Porcha.

“You comfortable, babe?” Troy asked.

“Yes…well, no but—”

“What do you need?” Beck asked.

To be fucked senseless
.
“To please you three gentlemen.”

Beck chuckled. “Well trained, ain’t she?”

“She’s a shameless little cock tease who’s gonna have that cute little backside thoroughly spanked before the night’s out,” Troy said like he meant it.

Adam pursed his lips. “Ask me, that won’t be much of a punishment, given the sparkle you’ve just put in her eye.”

“Ah, but you guys know what else we have in store for her.” Troy finally turned to include Porcha in a discussion that involved her but to which she hadn’t been invited to contribute until then. “We all have different things we like to do, and tonight we’re gonna do them.” He grinned at her. “To you.”

“Multiple times,” Beck added.

“Thank you.”

“And you’re gonna love what we do with our cocks, how we punish you, how we chain you down and make you beg for it.” Troy winked at her. “Count on it.”

Porcha was, and judging by the bulges in their pants, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“We need to eat first.”

Adam disappeared into the kitchen again and reappeared with plates of appetizers that he placed on the dining table.

“We’re set,” he said.

Porcha knew better than to move until she was given permission.

“Over here,” Troy said, holding a chair out for her.

The plug in her butt was now so warm that her ass felt like it was on fire. It was almost but not quite painful, but Porcha didn’t say so, just in case Troy decided to punish her by taking it away. She sat down carefully in the chair he held out for her.

“Any interesting offers come in?” Adam asked Troy as they made inroads into their grilled vegetables.

“Nah. Nothing worthy of our talents.”

“More babysitting assignments?” Beck asked, wrinkling his nose.

“I declined them all.” Troy stretched his arms above his head. “I guess we’ll be on vacation after this, until something interesting comes along.”

“I hate vacations,” Beck complained.

“Depends who you spend ’em with.” Adam’s gaze lingered on Porcha like he wanted to eat her instead of the delicious food he’d prepared for them. “I can think of no end of interesting ways to pass the time with this little firecracker.”

Beck nodded. “Well, there is that, I guess.”

The main course came and went, and not one of them had addressed a single comment to her. But their gazes were constantly on her, seeming to assess her mood, waiting for the right moment to start the party. Being ignored verbally and simultaneously fucked with their eyes wasn’t a situation she’d have expected to find particularly exciting. How wrong could she be? The dark weight of Troy’s gaze that promised so much, the smouldering luminescence in Adam’s eye, Becks candid appraisal of every inch of her—three different approaches that made her burn with impatience. The desire to get on with things, engendered merely by the killer grin tugging at Troy’s lips one moment, the flicker of heat in Beck’s eye the next, was making her crazy. She guessed that was kind of the point. Damn, they were good at what they did, and the games hadn’t even started yet.

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