Hanging On 2: Surreal Neal [Awakenings 6] (Siren Publishing Menage and More) (14 page)

Neal had his hands wrapped around the slats on the headboard, and from the way he flexed his muscles, his enjoyment of Drew’s ministrations was obvious.

“Are you starting without me?” Though Drew was breaking one of our rules—we play together or not at all—I wasn’t angry. We’d already compromised on our policy of keeping our thirds out of our bedroom. Somehow Neal belonged here, with Drew and me.

Drew lifted his kiss-swollen lips from Neal. “You look so beautiful asleep that I didn’t have the heart to wake you. Don’t worry. We’re just messing around.”

“Messing around?” Neal groaned. “You’ve kept me hard for almost twenty minutes.”

Drew narrowed his eyes. “You were watching the clock?”

Neal shook his head and sucked in his breath. I think Drew squeezed Neal’s cock. “No, Chef. I’m estimating. It’s a kitchen skill. But if you care to throw me over your lap and punish me for my impudence, I wouldn’t mind.”

Though I wasn’t sure whether Neal was topping from the bottom or displaying his sense of humor, I laughed. Drew hadn’t drawn clear boundaries or established protocols—even I was taking it slowly—and he also didn’t care to witness corporal punishments. “As I recall, I owe you a spanking. That wasn’t six orgasms.”

Neal gasped and turned a little gray. “Oh, sweet lord, Chef. Please adjust your grip a little. Get the whole ball in your hand before you squeeze again.”

I lifted the sheet to find that Drew did not have Neal’s cock in his hand. He had a handful of Neal’s balls. Neal had listed CBT as something he loved.

My brows shot into my hairline. In a million years, I never would have thought Drew would consent to administering that kind of pain to another man. “Do you want me to teach you how to do that without damaging his package?”

Drew narrowed his eyes at me. Macho rolled from him in palpable waves. “He’s telling me what he likes and what he doesn’t like. As I said, we’re messing around. He’ll be ripe for his spanking. I want you to show me how to do that too.”

“I’m fine, Mistress.” Neal threw me a tension-filled smile. “Chef learns quickly.”

I was shocked and pleased. Drew had helped me to top subs before, but he’d done it more to help move the scene along than for actual personal satisfaction.

Trusting that Neal would speak up again if Drew went too far, I concentrated on Neal’s face. “What do you like more, the stretching or the squeezing?”

“I like when you alternate the sensations, Mistress. I’m not partial to pricking or pins, though I do like the sting of a crop.”

His preferences were strikingly precise for someone who had recently turned twenty-four. I wondered at the depth of his experience. Most people, even if they dabbled in BDSM earlier, didn’t practice anything hardcore until their thirties or later. Learning at the tender age of twenty, I had been an anomaly in my community. As such, my mentors and my best friends were all ten or more years older than me.

I stretched, giving both men an eyeful, and then I rolled out of bed. “I’m going to freshen up. When I get back, I want to see you kneeling next to the chaise.”

Making a sub wait was one of the purest delights there was. I took my time, certain that Drew would keep him on edge. I perused my closet, ultimately selecting a lacy red slip that hugged my curves and accented the small valley between my breasts.

I returned to find Neal on the floor where I’d told him to be, and Drew relaxing on the chaise. He’d donned a pair of worn jeans and a Sensual Secrets shirt that had a monochromatic version of his face on it. This was the same shirt he gifted to my brother every year for Christmas. Danny absolutely refused to wear Drew’s face on his chest, but Alaina and Evan didn’t have a problem wearing them.

I situated myself comfortably on the chaise, scooting Drew out of the way with my butt. He sat up next to me, which I found odd. I’d never delivered a spanking with someone plastered to my side.

“Honey, you might want to stand up for a better angle.”

Drew nodded and positioned himself so that he leaned against the low arm of the lounge. “This good?”

“Yep.” Then I turned my attention to my waiting sub. “Stand up and bend over my lap.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

With practiced ease, he assumed the perfect angle and posture. I had nothing to correct, so I began by caressing his ass. “Whether you’re getting the blood flowing to the region or just tormenting him between spanks, this is an essential part of the process.”

Drew leaned forward and joined me in ministering to Neal. This also surprised me. Sure, he’d smacked a sub or two on the ass, but not in a practiced sort of way.

Without speaking, I showed him how to cup his hand. He was smart enough to figure out the reasons for this, and he also knew where I kept the spanking gloves. I made a mental note to order ones that would fit Drew’s larger hands.

I started off with several light swats, and then I caressed the area where the sting was centered. The next round of swats were a little harder. Because I didn’t know his threshold, and he’d said that only light pain turned him on, I wanted to be careful how quickly I took him up that slope.

Red handprints peppered his backside. This next round would test his endurance. I swung five times before air hissed from his teeth.

I motioned Drew closer. “Will you reach under and give him some pleasure?”

With a devilish expression gracing his stunning features, Drew knelt down to get a better angle.

Neal moaned.

“No coming allowed.”

And he groaned. I continued alternating spanks with rubs, and Drew leaned his face closer to Neal. I couldn’t hear what he was whispering in Neal’s ear, but I had been the recipient of his bedroom talk. No doubt he was promising all sorts of tantalizing things in an effort to ruin Neal’s concentration. Drew could be a demon when he put his mind to it.

I resisted the urge to giggle at my devious lover. “Five more, Neal. Count them.” Without waiting for his agreement, I delivered a sharp blow.

“Five.” Strain already strangled his voice. By the time he counted the last one, I knew he was holding onto the last shred of his sanity.

Afterward, I had him kneel between my knees and rest his cheek on my thigh. I smoothed my fingers over his temple and through his hair. Drew sat next to me, and slung his arm around my shoulder, pulling me so that I rested my head on him. We stayed like that for the longest time, the three of us clustered together in peace and enveloped in contentment.

At last, I felt Neal’s lips moving over my thigh. “Thank you, Mistress and Chef. That was incredible.”

I didn’t get the sense that a spanking would be a deterrent if he chose to misbehave, but I also couldn’t see him being willfully disobedient, not without reason.

Sophia

Later that night, Drew and Neal had made dinner together. They’d conscripted me into service as an assistant, so I found myself watching them as I chopped vegetables. They moved around the kitchen in a choreographed dance, sliding past one another though there was plenty of room, and stealing sensual touches as they worked.

I’d let Neal wear an apron for this, but Drew and I had agreed that he would be otherwise naked. I liked watching the muscles of his bare ass flex as he adjusted his stance or took a few steps. Drew managed to press the bulge in his pants against Neal’s bottom several times, and I grabbed a handful whenever Neal was close enough to me.

Drew didn’t escape my attention either. Being in the kitchen with those two was a serious test of how far I could go before my libido reached the tipping point.

Neal was making something, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was. Drew looked like he’d figured it out, though it had taken him a few minutes. He didn’t look worried, so I didn’t stress over it. Even after the turnip incident, I trusted Drew’s taste in food.

Now that my part was over, Drew finished making tandoori spiced chicken, and Neal wrapped something decadent in a tortilla shell. Between the two of them, I was going to be on my back moaning like a beached whale, the prospect of which I didn’t mind. In my book, lying on my back and moaning was good no matter the cause.

As Drew plated the main part of the meal, Neal piped the sweet filling he’d put in the tortillas on my shoulder. Then he opened his mouth wide and sucked it off. Tingles took off in all directions. “Mmm,” I moaned. “Keep that up and I might let you put that stuff other places.”

With a soft pop, he released my shoulder. Then he captured my gaze with his. “If you would allow me, Mistress, I would love to have that privilege.”

I grasped his face between my hands and brought him close for a kiss. Neal had incredible lips. I found myself swaying toward him, and the short distance between us disappeared as he wedged himself between my thighs. He scooped me up and pressed my sex more firmly against his hardening cock. I wrapped my legs around him, my calves and heels pressing into his naked flesh. Though I surrounded him, he engulfed me with his passion.

For the first time with a submissive, I didn’t feel the need to immediately reestablish control. I didn’t have the sense that Neal was overstepping his bounds or making a power play. Mews of pleasure sounded deep in his throat as I deepened the kiss.

A sharp crack rent the air. Dazed and momentarily confused, I broke the kiss and stared at Drew. He regarded me with a raised brow. “Dinner is ready.”

Reluctantly, I released Neal. “Set the table.” As he turned to follow that order, I caught the sight of Drew’s handprint on his ass, a brilliant relief against the fading pink from the spanking I’d delivered. “Nice. He looks good wearing your mark.”

Drew shrugged, but I wasn’t fooled by his nonchalant demeanor.

“Are you okay?” That was our signal for calling a time-out in the scene so that Drew and I could talk about what was and wasn’t working for us.

“Fine.” He took Neal’s place between my thighs, but when he leaned closer, he put his mouth whispering distance from my ear. “I think we should ask Neal to come to Elysium with us.”

Visions of the three of us wandering around a tropical BDSM paradise made me slippery and ripe. I could have come with very little stimulation.

“Okay.” I tried to play it cool, just as Drew had, and he was as fooled as I had been. We shared a sly grin. Our flight left Monday morning, and we both wanted Neal with us. “Let’s ask in the morning. I don’t want him thinking about anything but us tonight.”

We hadn’t said it aloud, but we both wanted Neal sleeping in our bed tonight, and that was something we’d never before invited a third to do. Drew and I had always utilized the guest bedrooms and clear boundaries. With Neal, we were blurring and breaking through our established protocols left and right, and neither of us wanted to stop.

The three of us played until well into the early morning hours. I don’t know who fell asleep first, but I do know that all of us had fought it long and hard.

I woke to Drew spooning me on one side and Neal sprawled on the other. Neither of them stirred, and I took the time to let myself awaken slowly. In the late morning light filtering through the gossamer curtains in the next room, Neal looked young and innocent. The wariness and cynicism was absent from his angular features. I wanted to make him feel safe enough to be that vulnerable when he was awake.

He shifted, and a shallow frown marred his features. His unconscious mind was no doubt registering the fact that he was in a strange bed. It was a matter of time before it prodded his conscious mind awake. I didn’t know if Neal was the kind who stayed around the morning after or bolted.

I wanted happiness to be his first feeling of the day. Without disengaging my body from Drew’s hold, I scooted toward Neal. Drew naturally relaxed, releasing my waist and not protesting when his leg slid from on top of mine. Without me in his arms, he’d wake up in a matter of minutes. He frequently complained when I didn’t accompany him on working trips because he maintained that he had trouble sleeping without me nearby.

The sheet covered Neal up to his waist. I traced a path from shoulder to shoulder, across his chest. His skin was cool, but not cold. I continued my foray, exploring lower and lower. I straddled him and added my lips to the mix. I luxuriated in the texture of his skin—smooth in places and rough where coarse hair sprinkled low in a line down the center of his belly.

At last, he shifted again, and his eyes blinked open. I glanced up to see him watching me through his dark eyelashes. Because I was kissing near his waist, my breasts were pressed to his cock. It stirred to life under me, lengthening with morning languor.

I rubbed my breasts over him, moving down so that the soft hairs at the tops of his thighs tickled my nipples. A pearly drop seeped from his tip, and I flicked my tongue over it, gathering up that little treat. Then I explored him with my mouth, wetting him so that he’d slip easily past my lips.

When I sucked him deep, he gasped, a hoarse, raspy noise issuing from the back of his throat. “Mistress,” he moaned.

Never had my title sounded so sweet or fulfilling. Reverence dripped from the word, and he meant it with every fiber of his being.

Next to us, Drew stirred. His hand was on his cock before he opened his eyes, as if he knew exactly what vision he’d find. When his lashes did flutter open, he flashed a sexy smile that betrayed no evidence of having just been asleep. He rolled to his knees and out of my field of vision.