9781631054303ThreeofaKindHolt

THREE OF A KIND

A Club Fantasy Story

Desiree Holt

Erotic Romance

Secret Cravings
Publishing

www.secretcravingspublishing.com

ABOUT THE
E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows
you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal
computer or device.
You do not have
resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the
publisher and the copyright owner of this book.
This book cannot be copied
in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another
through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee,
or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the
U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online,
offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to
be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must
delete it from your computer.

WARNING: The unauthorized
reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal
copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is
investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison
and a fine of $250,000.

If you find a Secret Cravings Publishing e-book
being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at
[email protected]

A
Secret Cravings Publishing Book

Erotic Romance

Three of a Kind

Copyright © 2014 Desiree Holt

E-book ISBN: 978-1-63105-430-3

First E-book Publication:
 
December 2014
    

Cover design by
Dawné
Dominique

Edited by Elise
Hepner

Proofread by Renee
Waring

All cover art and logo copyright ©
2014 by Secret Cravings Publishing

ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in
whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this
book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is
strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Secret Cravings Publishing

www.secretcravingspublishing.com

Dedication

To my wonderful friend Laura
Kubitz
who gave me the idea for the Cut the Cards game. And to Margie Hager, beta
reader par excellence, who keeps me straight and honest.

THREE
OF A KIND

A
Club Fantasy Story

Desiree
Holt

Copyright © 2014

Prologue

Music
played softly in their
private room at Club Fantasy.
He’d chosen various types of
Hispanic music, preferring the soft strains of the tangos and the heavy
drumbeats of the rhumbas and cha-chas.

She
was manacled, spread-eagled to a St.
Andrew’s Cross
,
her long fall of auburn hair held up with a gold clip so that her entire back,
from her neck to her feet, was exposed. Long
 
moments ago she had tumbled into subspace, driven there by the
pleasurable pain of the flogger, the sharp sting on her skin and the rush of
heat from her neck to her ankles. She was so wet with her own juices she could
smell her musk and tremors throbbed through the walls of her pussy.
 

She
had reached the critical point of needing release a long time ago but her Dom
still held her at the edge, a game they played frequently. The card, she
remembered, in one brief moment of clarity. She had chosen the card labeled
“Delayed Orgasm” and he was taking it to its ultimate.

Her
nipples ached with pleasant pain from the clamps fastened to them. Tiny weights
attached to the clamps pulled and tugged on her nipples, stretching them and
increasing the satisfying pain. The plug her Dom had inserted in her ass hummed
on the lowest speed of pulsation, sending vibrations echoing through her body
and stimulating every one of her nerves. She sighed and closed her eyes,
enjoying the kaleidoscope of sensations playing over her body.

Her
Dom placed his lips close to her ear.
“Time for the wand,” he
told her in a low, raspy voice.

Her
pussy clenched in anticipation of the new assault on her senses. She loved the
wand especially the way her Master used it.
A tiny jolt here,
a little electrical charge there, no planned pattern, giving her no time to
adjust or anticipate.
A spray of cool liquid misted over her skin.
The alcohol.
Oh, yes! Fire play tonight with the wand. She
shivered in expectation.

“I
love how you respond to this, girl.” The low timbre of his voice rippled
through her. “Of all the subs I’ve ever been with, you become the most aroused,
the most desperate for satisfaction.” He trailed a finger the length of her
spine.
“The one whose orgasms are the most intense.”

Get
on with
it
,
she wanted to shout to him.
Please,
please, please. Do it, and then fuck me
.

She
tried to wiggle her ass, trying to tempt him, to urge him to move faster. She
wanted him to take her right to that edge and then shove his cock inside her
and fuck her senseless.

“Soon
enough,” he chuckled, as if reading her mind.

At
the first touch of the wand the last vestiges of rational thought left her and
she was plunged into the deepest possible subspace. The heat of the flame
scorched her, replaced immediately by the cool touch of a damp cloth. Heat,
spark, cool. Heat, spark, cool.
Over and over until the
pattern consumed her.
She jerked at each application of the violet wand
then moaned with pleasure as the erotic sensations cascaded through her.
On and on and on.

The
sudden cessation shocked her into semi-awareness. She heard the moan drifting
from her lips without being aware it was a sound she made.

The
large warm hand caressed her again.
Slid down past her
buttocks.
Fingers found the dampness of her cunt, rubbing her labia and
sliding inside. She clamped down on them but the moment she did he withdrew
them.

“Oh,
you’re more than ready, my little
subbie
. Yes, you’re
ready to take every inch of my cock.”

Wiping
her down once more with the damp cloth, he released the manacles, lifted her
and turned her so she was once again spread-eagled on the St.
Andrew’s Cross
, legs wide apart, this time facing him. She
looked at him from beneath heavy eyelids, watching him through a lust-induced
haze. He had removed the black leather pants he’d worn earlier, the ones he’d
opened when she knelt before him to take his cock in her mouth and suck him
dry. Now he’d had time to recover and that same shaft was long, thick, and swollen
again, just waiting for her.

He
moved forward, stepping between the boards of the cross where her legs rested,
and touching the head of his dick to her waiting opening. Locking his gaze on
her face he eased into her one slow inch at a time until—yes!—he was fully
seated, filling every bit of space in her channel. And then began the dance.
In and out.
Thrust and retreat.
Slower
then
faster.
Harder, harder,
harder.

Every
one of her senses was focused on the tight coil unwinding inside her, the
slithering loops that moved through her pushing her toward the precipice of
release. Now, she wanted to shout.
I’m ready now
. As if he heard her, he
linked his fingers with hers, raised her hands and pressed them to the wood
over her head. And drove into her, hard, deep and pushed her over the edge into
the whirlpool.

Her
body shook with the intensity of the tremors, her pussy clenching over and over
on his heavy cock that was pulsing inside her. The climax went on for what
seemed like forever, until she thought her bones would break with the force of
her orgasm. At last the intensity abated, the shudders eased, her heart rate
slowed, and she was able to drag air into her lungs.

She
was vaguely aware of her Sir withdrawing from her, disposing of his condom then
lifting her from the cross and wrapping a warm quilt around her body. With long
strides he carried her to the big chair in one corner of the room and settled
in it with her on his lap. He fed her small sips of water from a bottle on the
little table next to them and spoke to her in soothing words. With his large
hand he massaged her back, cuddling her until she slowly returned from
subspace.

She
knew what came next: the massage with the soothing oils and creams, the cup of
hot herbal tea, the soft words of tenderness and caring. Eventually she was
settled back in his lap, her head on his shoulder, physically sated and
pleasurably exhausted. Her Master took very good care of her. When they left
here he’d take her home and tuck her into bed, perhaps with his own body curled
around hers. She was the center of his universe, as he was of hers.

So
what was wrong with her that she still felt something was missing?
That there was an empty space in her life.

Chapter One

The
late afternoon sun bathed the landscape in a golden glow, its reflection
rippling in the waters of the large pool and wrapping its warm fingers around
the people relaxing in Kelly and Tanner
Sloat’s
backyard. It also glinted off the thin links of gold surrounding Kelly’s neck.
A week ago the two had married in a small ceremony in that very yard. Then last
night, after two hours of intense play at Club Fantasy, the crowd had watched
their collaring ceremony. Today Tanner, Kelly and their closest friends were
vegging
out at the
Sloats
’ pool,
soaking their sore muscles and drinking toasts to the couple.

Delaney
Fox sipped at her iced tea and surveyed everyone from behind her sunglasses. In
the two years she had been a member at Club Fantasy she had formed some very
tight friendships, including Kelly and Tanner. When the dungeon where she had
played for a long time closed, she had been adrift, searching for a safe place
to meet Dom’s she could trust.

Unlike
most of the friends in the life, she had learned long ago that one man could
not satisfy her. She had played with a lot of inventive Dom’s, a lot of
powerful ones, a lot with whom she remained friends. But there was always
something missing. She wanted what the friends surrounding her had found, a
permanent relationship with the one Dom that could satisfy all of her
submissive needs. She just didn’t know if one existed. And time was passing too
quickly. When would she become not as marketable?

Hang
onto Hunter. He’s the best you’ve had. Don’t screw this up.

She
sighed and closed her eyes, trying to convince herself she should be happy she
had a Dom now that she’d been happy with for several weeks. Hunter Mills was
inventive, demanding, caring, all the things a Dom should be. But now she
wanted more than just the hours of play at Club Fantasy. She had discovered she
wanted the lifestyle all the time, every time, except at work. She had the
submissive’s
need to conform to the will of a Dom in all
the private areas of her life.

A
hand touched her shoulder and she jerked, eyes opening. When she saw who it was
she relaxed again. Hunter, six foot one of solid male, with thick dark hair
that just brushed his shoulders, eyes a rich emerald green, a sculpted face and
a smile that could melt her panties in a hot minute.
 

“You
startled me,” she told him.

“Sorry.”
He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, brushing his fingertips across the
tops of her breasts at the same time. “You should take off this little scrap of
cloth. It barely covers you, anyway.”

Deftly
he released the tie at her nape, slipped his hand down to reach the one at her
back, and pushed her bikini top to the side. Delaney shifted in her seat. Part
of Hunter’s thing as her Dom was to show his possession in ways like this. He
enjoyed letting other people know that she obeyed all his orders as well as
proudly displaying the assets of his submissive.

Forcing
herself to resist the automatic reflex to cross her arms over her breasts, she
let her gaze roam casually over the others at poolside and on the wide covered
deck. The men wore bathing suits that were little more than codpieces, the
women either bikinis or tiny shorts and halters. Some of the women had already
removed their tops. On a wide lounger Nia March sat cradled between the thighs
of her Dom, “Blackjack” Blackwell, talking to a man standing beside them.
Blackjack idly fondled his subs’ breasts, toying with her nipples, sliding a
hand over her tummy into the tiny triangle of fabric covering her mound.

Of course.
Why should she feel the least bit uncomfortable?
Everyone here at one time or another had taken part in performance night at
Club Fantasy. And giving in to their sensual natures at informal gatherings
like this was almost a given. It was a lot like being in the lounge at the
dungeon only more private, because all the people here were friends.

She
looked up at Hunter and smiled. Of all the
Doms
she’d
been with, he was by far the best. Not only was he inventive sexually but he
was also caring, attentive, and considerate. He was one of the few she’d
developed a relationship with outside the club, someone she enjoyed socially as
well as sexually.
Someone who understood her submissive needs
outside the bedroom.
So why couldn’t he be enough? Why couldn’t she
agree to establish a household with him where they could live their lifestyle
all the time? At least half the women who’d been with Hunter would have given
anything to have that on the table.

There
must be something wrong with me.

“Heavy thoughts there, sweetheart?”
Hunter crouched down beside her,
idly pinching one of her nipples.

“No.
Yes.”
She sighed.
“
I
don
’t know.”

His
expression turned serious. “Are you not having a good time?”

She
smiled at him, arching slightly to his touch. “I’m having a wonderful time. I’m
so happy for Tanner and Kelly.” She glanced to her right. “And I have a feeling
Blackjack and Nia won’t be far behind them.”

“I
agree.” Hunter nodded. “And they can thank Kelly and Tanner for that, we were
there the night they were introduced, remember?” He lightly pinched one taut
bud. “What about us, kitten? Where are we going?”

Delaney
turned her head to look at him, a tiny thread of panic wriggling through her.
“Are you unhappy with me, Sir?”

He
bent his head and took the nipple he’d been teasing into his mouth, sucked and
gently grazed it with his teeth before lifting his head again. “Unhappy?
Far from it.
But I want more, sub.
A lot
more.
And I sense you holding back.”

Delaney
swallowed. She had done the best she could with the situation. It wasn’t his
fault she felt something missing. Maybe something was wrong with her. She
couldn’t lose him.
Couldn
’
t.
Lose.
Him
.