Incognito: Sinful
| Incognito: Sinful | |
| Madison Layle | |
| Cobblestone Press, LLC (2011) | |
| Rating: | ★★★★☆ |
| Tags: | BDSM |
Years after marrying her sexy "masters of sin", Rachel is troubled over a secret she must tell them. Jon and Jackson are done waiting for their wife to come around and decide to take matters into their own very capable hands.
As the Sinclair brothers reclaim their wife in an exciting, erotic way, Rachel submits to a sinful voyage with her sexy, dominate husbands, but will her secret news split the triad apart forever?
Incognito: Sinful
By
Madison Layle
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Incognito: Sinful
Copyright© 2011 Madison Layle
ISBN:
978-1-60088-725-3
Cover Artist: Sable Grey
Editor: Jeff Curry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cobblestone Press, LLC
Dedication
To INCOGNITO fans worldwide!
Rachel Morrissey Sinclair dropped her satchel on the loveseat just inside her office door, kicked off her pumps, and sank into the leather executive chair behind her desk with a relieved sigh.
Closing arguments had gone well, and the jury had taken only one hour longer than she expected to reach a verdict of not guilty. Her client walked out of the courthouse a free man. She could ring in the New Year with a clear conscience.
So why didn’t she feel like celebrating? Why did she feel as if she’d tear up any second? This trial hadn’t been any more difficult than others she’d worked tirelessly on throughout the years. Her workload had been eased after resigning as a prosecuting attorney a few years back, but it had taken time and hard work to build a successful private practice.
She propped her elbows on the desktop and rubbed her eyes, her temples…not even glancing at the unopened envelope on her desk or looking up when her office door opened.
“I said I didn’t want to be disturbed,” she muttered to her secretary, “and didn’t I tell you to take off already? Go home. Spend the holidays with family—”
“You should take your own advice, Counselor.”
Jon’s deep, rich voice had her head snapping up with surprise.
Her pulse quickened at the sight of her husband’s chiseled features, but despite her pleasure, her question came out sharper than she intended. “What are you doing here?”
If she’d blinked, she would’ve missed seeing his step falter slightly before he swept around her desk, spun her to face him, and leaned over her with hands at either side. “I’m here to retrieve my wife who has no more excuses for staying late at the office.”
“Excuses?” Anger simmered. “My job is not an excuse! I’ve been working a case.”
“I know. A trial that ended over an hour ago…with a successful conclusion, I understand. Congratulations.”
Her lips parted, but the thanks she wanted to mutter wouldn’t come. “Checking up on me?”
His frown was her only answer.
What was wrong with her? She loved Jon, and he loved her. So why did everything she have to say to him lately—to him or Jackson, for that matter—have to come out sounding so acidic?
To her horror, moisture welled in her eyes. She squeezed them shut, turned her face away from his all-too-observant stare, and said, “I was going to leave in a few minutes. There’s no reason for you to come and
retrieve
me as if I’m incapable of driving myself home.”
Silence filled the air until she was forced to open her eyes and look at him. His chiseled jaw was as hard as granite, his gorgeous blue eyes determined. “Work’s over for now.” He reached past her and punched a few keys to lock her computer, grabbed her by the wrists, and pulled her from her seat.
“What do you think you’re doing? Jon, I—I have things to do…depositions to…” She tried to jerk free of his grasp.
He tossed a look at her so severe she silenced her protestations. He gripped her upper arms. “I’ve never dominated you here, Rachel, because I know you need your career…your own space where you can be in charge. You’re a strong, independent woman, and I admire that about you, but I refuse to let you hide out here to avoid facing me or Jack.”
“I…” What could she say to that? The legal papers could wait. So could her email and any other files that lay on her desk. Her other cases were on recess until after the first of the year. He was right. She’d run out of excuses, but why did she feel the need to avoid the two most important men in her life? She should be eagerly anticipating her time with her husbands.
They were the loves of her life, cherished her to the point of distraction, and understood her better than she did herself. They removed the burdens of a stressful career and freed her to explore her sexuality in a way she never dreamed possible.
Jon’s gaze softened. “I love you, my pet, more than you’ll ever comprehend. Remember that when I tell you that
this…
whatever this is between us…we’ll figure it out and work through it together.” He released her arms. “Jack is downstairs in the limo. It’s time, Rachel, for you to draw on that strength we all know you have. Stop delaying the inevitable. Something is going on in this pretty little head of yours, something we obviously need to talk about.” He brushed her damp cheek with a thumb. “When you’re ready, we’ll be waiting.”
He bent forward, pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, and walked out.
For several minutes, she sat on the loveseat and stared at the door. Then she looked around her office, spotted her favorite wedding picture centered on a shelf, the only photo in a bookcase filled with thick, hard-bound legal volumes. It wasn’t a typical bride and groom portrait, although those had been taken. This was a snapshot taken after Jon had tossed the traditional garter. In that moment, Jon stood with his arm around her waist. She smiled at him, and he grinned at his brother, Jackson, who twirled the garter he’d caught around an index finger while flashing the photographer a smirk.
The irony of the photo wasn’t lost on her, which is why it was her favorite, but many were unaware of the significance. Only a select few close friends knew Jackson joined the happy newlyweds on their honeymoon. Even fewer who witnessed the formal wedding between her and Jon were onboard the leased yacht later during a private exchange of vows between her and Jackson. As far as the public knew, she was married to Dr. Jonathon Sinclair, and they lived in a large mansion owned jointly by her husband and brother-in-law. In truth, Jackson was her spouse as much as Jon was.
Jackson had never voiced any concerns with his need to step aside and thereby help them keep up appearances at public events. He’d never pressed for more than what they’d always shared in private, but after five years of a clandestine, polygamous marriage, she worried about the impact the secret would eventually have on their triadic relationship and their future together. With a worried frown, she returned to her desk and stared at the unopened envelope, eventually stuffing it into her purse without opening it.
A glance at the clock had her grabbing her purse and shoes and heading for the elevator. Her husbands awaited her, and matters would only get worse the longer she avoided her concerns.
* * * * *
“What do you think is keeping her?” Jackson wanted to know, but Jon merely shook his head. They’d noticed a change in their wife several weeks earlier and, at first, attributed it to holiday jitters or the stress of her latest trial.
Jon had expected her to be in a more celebratory mood when he’d volunteered to surprise her with their plans for a weekend getaway. He and Jackson had rented a private yacht for the entire holiday weekend—similar to their honeymoon years earlier—the idea being to get away from the house, the offices, and any connection to the outside world for a little while. They’d hoped it would help them reconnect with their sexy, submissive wife, but her reaction to his appearance in her office had caught Jon off guard.
“Whatever it is, we’ll get to the bottom of it,” Jackson said with typical confidence.
Jon nodded and got out to hold the door for her the instant she exited the elevator and headed their way across the parking garage. The slow, almost timid steps she took made him wonder where his self-assured, take-on-the-world wife had gone…and how he could get her back.
Rachel’s steps faltered as she neared the black limousine, but she forced herself to continue moving and chastised herself for trembling at the thought of what her husbands would soon do to her. They’d never done anything to harm her; there was no reason for such unfounded fears.
Usually she enjoyed their incredible creativity when it came to keeping their sex lives interesting, exciting, and unique. And she tried to focus more on that faint tingle of eager anticipation inside her core than her unfounded worries.
She smiled at Jon who studied her with a gaze that had always been far too observant for her own good.
Without a word, he took her purse from her, handing it off to Jackson in the car, and her angst increased tenfold.
But why?
He soothed her troubled thoughts with a caress of her cheek and soft press of lips to her temple. “Try not to think so much, my luscious counselor,” he whispered, at last making her smile genuine. He was always teasing her about worrying and thinking too hard when all she really needed to do was feel and enjoy.
He pulled a dark cloth from a pocket and slipped the blindfold around her head. As her world went black, she quivered at the thought that someone else might enter the parking garage and see her like this. She whimpered.
“Shh.” Jon’s hot breath warmed her ear.
Before guiding her into the limo, he used what felt like a second cloth to bind her wrists in front of her. In seconds, however, she was safe and secure inside the back of the limo, and they were off to parts unknown. She assumed they were headed home, but she could sense the turn the chauffeur made and soon realized something wasn’t right.
“We aren’t going home?” she asked, still seated between her quiet husbands.
“Care to repeat that, pet, correctly this time?” Jackson said, speaking for the first time.
She turned her face toward his voice. “We aren’t headed home, Master?”
“No.”
She turned to Jon. “The club, Sire?” she asked, wondering if they were going to Incognito, a members-only BDSM club they favored.
“No,” Jon answered with a tender stroke of his palm along her thigh. “Just sit back and relax. We’ll be at our destination soon enough.”
A little later, the limo slowed and Jackson instructed, “Slip off your heels. You won’t need them where we’re going.”
She wanted to ask what he meant but didn’t. When she stepped barefoot from the car, she could pick up the scent of salty sea air, the calls of seagulls, and the faint slap of waves against the shore. One of her husbands lifted her into his arms, and with a surprised squeak, she clung to him.
The men thanked the chauffeur and waited for the limo to pull away before they moved…along a boardwalk or pier, judging by the sounds their footsteps made. Minutes later, they stood onboard a boat of some kind, perhaps a yacht. From the brief conversation Jon had with someone he’d called “captain”, she knew the vessel was much more than a small watercraft.
But they didn’t remove the blindfold even after letting her feet touch the deck.
“Let’s head to the bow,” Jon suggested before they took her by the arms.
They guided her to the bow and stood together at the rail as the captain moved the boat away from the pier and out to sea. The breeze felt wonderful across her face, through her hair.
They hadn’t traveled far when Jackson…her master…unbound her wrists and ordered, “Remove your blazer.”
They were still above deck, probably within view of the captain and countless other boaters, but she obeyed. With one hand clasping the rail for stability, she maneuvered out of her jacket and felt someone take it from her. A creak sounded nearby as she envisioned him opening a bench seat and dropping her blazer inside.
“The skirt and blouse, too,” Jackson added.
Working with only one hand, it took a bit longer, but she managed to get her blouse unbuttoned then felt one of them peel the silk material from her body.
The cool ocean breeze made her nipples pucker beneath her bra. Goose bumps spread across her arms, and she took deep breaths, loving the naughty sensations her actions inspired.
Her husbands hadn’t been called the Masters of Sin at Club Incognito for nothing—even if the name had originally been meant as a play on their Sinclair surname. They had a way about them that made a woman—
her—
quiver with erotic need. And they’d yet to lay a hand on her.
Stepping out of her pencil skirt, she turned to face the breeze and gripped the rail with both hands. She heard someone shut the bench seat off to her left and soon felt the combined warmth of her men at her back. Certain there were other boats in the area, she tried not to think of who or how many might’ve witnessed her disrobement. There was at least one spectator in the captain, no doubt, but she hoped he kept his attention on driving the boat. Perhaps any onlookers would assume her underwear was a bikini. Her black satin bra and matching thong could pass for a skimpy two-piece…from a distance.
“Cold?” Jon asked next to her ear.
Should she say yes? It was winter, and yet this was Florida. Would they give her a robe or blanket to restore some modesty?
Tell the truth.
She shook her head. The constant breeze was chilly, but not unbearable, and after hours spent in a stuffy courtroom, the wind was refreshing.
Fingers slipped between her thighs. She sucked in a quick, abrupt breath. “You’re wet,” Jackson murmured in that sexy, deep baritone she loved so much. She couldn’t deny it. They also knew what to do to overcome her uncertainties and make her body long for them.
She clutched the rail tighter as the bow of the boat plowed through wave after wave, even as Jackson’s deliciously talented fingers continued to caress her pussy through the thin barrier of her panty.
Was that her whimpering when other hands closed ranks around her body, one on her bare ass and two more on her breasts?
She couldn’t fathom why they were so brazenly touching her in the open, but neither could she find the strength to protest. They’d always been more circumspect, especially after their marriage. Though they went to Incognito, they no longer performed scenes in the public rooms but rather took her to private rooms on those evenings. Mostly though, they’d settled into a very private sex life within the confines of their home. So this was very different for all of them.
For Rachel, it was titillating.
Sinful.
The men turned her, penned her between their clothed bodies, and began to kiss her relentlessly. Jon claimed her mouth while Jackson kissed her neck, nape, and shoulder.
Rachel’s thoughts fractured, her concerns weakened by the overwhelming flood of sensations the men created around her…within her.
“We’d planned to take you below,” Jackson murmured.
“Can’t wait,” Jon mumbled against her lips before he stole her breath with another kiss. She embraced him tighter, only vaguely aware of the rocking of the boat that still threatened her balance.
“Here,” Jackson said, tugging her bra down hard to expose her breasts. “Now.”
Jon released her lips and dipped to latch greedily onto one tender nipple, and she cried out from the painful pleasure his eagerness wrought. He stopped and, caressing her boob, asked, “Rachel? Are you okay?”
“Yes, Sire,” she said and combed her fingers through his hair, wishing she weren’t still blindfolded so she could see the emotions always so prevalent in his gaze.
He returned to suckle more gently, and her bra clasp gave way. Seconds later, it was gone and her thong pooled around her ankles.
Jackson whispered, “You’re so wet and ready for us, pet,” and she couldn’t deny the truth of his statement. Instead, she bucked her cunt toward his hand as he fondled her pussy with intoxicating strokes.
Time and space no longer held any meaning for her. Wherever they were no longer mattered. The only thing she cared about in that moment was finding release in the arms of the men she loved more than anything else on Earth.
The fingers on her clit sped up, and she began to plead with them. “Please, Master…I need you…Sire, please.”
They repositioned her quickly, face-forward toward the sea, hip against the cold metal rail of the yacht. “Rest your forearms on the rail,” Jon said. She had to scoot back and bend over slightly to do as he suggested. Then he asked his brother, “Do you have the other scarf?”
“I have two more in my pockets if you need them.”
“That’ll work. I still have the one used on her wrists earlier.” Jon—she assumed—tied each forearm at her elbows to the rail. A third scarf was wrapped around her overlapped wrists and affixed to the top rail, too.
Then warm palms at her hip tugged her backward. “Move back a little more, pet,” Jackson said. “That’s it. Now part your feet and spread those legs for us.”
Her heart raced. Adrenaline made her shiver even though the boat had slowed dramatically; it seemed to drift more with the waves now than before when the motors revved and powered the craft through the water. Where were they? Near shore? Surrounded by nothing but wide- open water?
Did it matter?
“Perfect, pet,” Jackson continued with a caress along her spine that ignited tingles. “You look gorgeous in the amber light of sunset.” He paused to stroke the curve of her ass cheeks. “The captain and his first mate are certainly enjoying the view.”
She sucked in a harsh breath of salty sea air, but her lungs wouldn’t cooperate. The confirmation of an audience made her tremble and whimper and squirm. She moved to close her legs.
“No,” Jon said, preventing her from achieving her goal. “Don’t try to hide your beauty. Be proud of it as we are.” He rubbed her legs and spread her thighs farther. “That’s better. Give them a good look, pet, because we all know that’s all they’ll ever get. You’re ours, my love. Remember that. Although we may like watching others enjoy the vision of you, desire what they know they’ll never have, we won’t ever share you with them.”
“Forgive our selfishness,” Jackson said, “but no other man will ever touch you.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Master. I want only you and Sire.”
“What you want,” Jon said, “you will have.” With that, he slammed his hard cock into her pussy. She hadn’t even realized he’d opened his fly, but he must’ve, because he took her hard, each collision of their bodies more powerful than the one before. She climaxed by the third thrust, but he didn’t slow. The only sign he gave to acknowledge her orgasm was a deep grunt and tighter grip at her waist.
Jackson roughly fondled her tender breasts, making her wince and whine with renewed need. Jon rode her for countless minutes while Jackson muttered soft, sultry promises in her ear. She climaxed again from the vivid, erotic pictures he painted into her psyche with his words alone.
Her legs felt like limp noodles when Jon reached his own climax, but the instant he withdrew, his brother took his place, and the frenzied ride continued. Jackson’s cock plumbed her depths with familiar ease. She rose on tiptoe to give full access to his every powerful thrust.
He didn’t last as long as Jon, but his drive had the talent to shove her over another peak before he also found release.