The Spanked Wives Club (20 page)

A big hand slipped down beneath her, Hunter’s swinging balls slapping against her bottom. Someone touched her aching clit then, and she screamed, jerking within the implacable, irresistible hold of these two brawny men.

My men.

That thought was the last straw, and she rocketed up into space, her orgasm detonating deep in her belly, her sex sizzling with heat, with raw pleasure that had her crying out again and again as the waves washed over, her vision lost to a white-out of pure sensation. Hunter groaned behind her, his last thrusts into her ass the most brutal yet, shaking her, rattling her teeth, driving the breath from her lungs as the hot, scalding seed filled her deep,
so
deep inside. The feel of his essence flooding into her triggered another orgasm that had her moaning, her hands squeezing tight, making her wish she had one of her men to hold on to.

“Let it take you down, that’s a girl,” Troy cooed, stroking her cheeks, making her kiss his fingertips around her gag. “I’m so proud of you, taking your men. Obeying us. You’ve been a very good girl today, Lacey.”

The gag was released then, and her head pulled up by that ponytail, Troy’s soft lips taking hers, his tongue teasing her own, tasting her, savoring her submission, her
surrender
.

And there was nothing she wanted more at that moment than to give it.

Troy brought her up into his arms then, Hunter’s cock slipping free of the clutch of her bottom, making her shudder again.

Then all was quiet, Lacey lost in the blackness of her blindfolded euphoria, breathing hard, taking in the scent of Troy, the man she loved, the man who owned her, body and soul. She came down, finally, the corners of her mouth sore from the gag, her naked body still in his arms, his soft, gentle kisses to her forehead making her smile, the sounds of his voice, the rumble deep in his chest as he murmured to her a comfort all their own.

As she laid there in his arms, the sweat cooling on her skin, thick seed from her twitching, pleasingly aching bottom hole sliding down between her cheeks, slickening her inner thighs, she realized one last thing.

She wanted Hunter there with them too — and not just for tonight.

Chapter Eleven

A
t some point, Lacey lost track of time. The wine had been broken into after Hunter had taken her ass, the three of them laughing deliriously as they sprawled in bed together.

They were far from finished with her though. She came again and again, on their fingers, their tongues, their cocks. Even their rumbling, gravelly voices seemed to help take her over the edge more than once.

Her arms unbound for the first time in hours, they laid her against the headboard, pillows piled behind her, and she watched them as they finally disrobed, her fingers sneaking down between her thighs to stroke her clit, despite the glint in Troy’s gaze telling her she’d be punished for that later on.

It would be worth it.

She practically drooled as they took off their shirts, the thick, muscled shoulders bespeaking their immense strength, rippling abdominals, and powerful chests making her nearly moan at the display of masculine beauty all around her. Hunter, slightly taller, was built almost as heavily as Troy, the main difference being Hunter’s somewhat lighter color — and the tattoo.

A huge, intricate tattoo of a Chinese dragon snaked around Hunter’s left rib cage, the tight, defined abdominals seeming to lend the dark ink a life, a movement all its own as he laid on the bed next to her. Hunter eased a palm up her arm, then took hold of her hands, clasping them at her belly in one of his.

“What are you…?”

Alarm bloomed within her, even though her nipples pebbled to steel points, a stirring deep in her belly betraying her body as more than ready for what might come next. Hunter kissed her hard, even brutally, crushing his lips to hers, his fist clenching in her sweaty locks, making the roots of her hair scream.

He pulled back just enough to look deep in her eyes.

“I… wanted this for so long. And you’re mine — finally.” He gave her a warm smile then, kissing her softly now, Lacey slipping her tongue deep between his lips, seeking his. He stilled her though, an admonishing pat of his hand on her cheek. “Stop that.” Flicking a glance over his shoulder at Troy, he flashed another knowing grin. “Time for you to take care of your husband.”

Then Hunter moved away, and Troy stood at her side, looking down upon her. Without a word, he shucked his pants down, revealing the corded sinews of his thighs, the packed, bunched muscles of the calves.

Unable to help herself, she leaned up, hugging his torso to her. She licked and kissed those hard abdominals then, and he let her, looking on in silence, his hand absently stroking fingers through her hair. Pulling back, she looked up at him, meeting his gaze, the warmth and tenderness she saw there as precious as it was rare. Her fingers traced the tiny scars scattered along his side, the pale, permanent mementos of a close encounter with an IED. She kissed and licked those too, reveling in his strength, his endurance, his sheer will to survive — and to come back to her.

“Lay back,” Troy said, slipping out of his boxers, his cock high and hard again, making Lacey’s mouth water. He took it in hand, stroking it as he waited for her to comply, his gaze glittering.

Swinging his legs over her, Troy straddled her chest, his cock rearing over her. She moved to touch it and he shook his head sharply.

What’s he doing?

Then the hot shaft was laid in the valley between her breasts and she swallowed hard, looking down at it then up at him.

“You know what to do,” Troy muttered, leaning over her, making her feel small, almost helpless, that heavy cock throbbing against her skin.

She grasped her breasts, the marks faded but still aching from the flogging she’d taken earlier. Just as she squeezed the soft pillows of her breasts around the veined length of him, a hot, wet mouth closed over her clit, and she let out a long, ragged sigh.

“Squeeze it tight, girl,” Troy growled, the tongue lapping at her clit making Lacey’s head spin. She’d have thought she’d been too far gone to respond this way — she’d lost count of how many times she’d come today — but the feel of that agile tongue against her flesh made her want to blast off into space, her thighs and womb clenching over and over as that mouth worked her clit, teeth worrying sensitive, swollen labia.

Troy began thrusting in earnest between her breasts then, tweaking and rubbing her nipples as he did, grinning down at her.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck these tits all day, bad girl.” He gave one of her breasts a harsh swat. “Squeeze harder!”

She obeyed, despite the renewal of the stinging pain of the welts still decorating her flesh. She shouldn’t have liked this — but with Troy she always had, the objectification, even degradation speaking to an element of her nature she wasn’t yet sure how to describe. It was animalistic in the most basic of ways, a callous use of her feminine charms.

And she loved every second of it.

Fingers slipped between sodden lips of her pussy, plunging then curling within her, making her cry out, the hard penis between her breasts rocking her now with each hard thrust, the angry, swollen head winking at her with each lunge within her soft cleavage.

Soon the clever tongue was lapping up her juices, the fingers plunging briskly within her, Lacey moaning almost continuously. A final swirl of firm tongue over her clit, and it was too much, Lacey arching her hips off the bed, driving her sex into a hard chin, the tongue driving deep, that mouth drinking up the copious letdown of liquids as she cried out yet again.

Her thighs trembled now as Troy’s cock swelled further between her breasts, and he growled at her, his hands planted on the pillows to either side of her head as he came, hot jets of fluid leaping forth to coat her throat, her jaw, the inner curves of her breasts. He sagged over her as he breathed hard, a bead of sweat collecting on the dark stubble of his strong chin.

Troy collapsed down on the bed next to her, letting Lacey look down the length of her body. Hunter perched his chin on her mons, grinning gleefully at her, his lips glistening brightly with her fluids.

The sun was starting to go down, and Lacey’s stomach growled so loudly, both men burst out laughing.

Troy tipped her head up, looking into her eyes.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Lacey girl.”

* * *

“I
wish I’d known how the sky really looked,” Hunter said, laying back on the stained wood of the chaise lounge, the evening breeze still warm, the sky perfectly clear, the gorgeous smudge of the Milky Way meandering overhead, the glittering brilliance of the stars breathtaking.

He’d lived in big cities his entire life, and even in the deserts of Iraq, he’d never seen a sky like this. In Iraq perhaps the same sky could be seen — but Hunter was too busy worrying about staying alive to ever pay attention to it.

“Lacey still sleeping?”

All three of them had eaten their dinner like starvation victims, the wine disappearing almost as fast as the steak and fish they’d grilled along with fresh vegetables. Lacey had crashed almost immediately after they’d finished, something Hunter suspected was two parts alcohol, one part exhaustion. They’d put her to bed, the last sight of her being her sweet naked form entwined with a mountain of blankets, Lacey’s half lucid murmuring so adorable he’d seriously considered staying in the room just to listen to her.

“Yeah, I think she’s dead to the world.” Troy said, snorting. “I think somebody might’ve worn her out.”

Hunter laughed, tipping up his glass and gazing once more at the immense expanse of nothingness above them. “Guess I’ll just have to content myself with stargazing in the meantime. Poor me.”

“This shit is
nothing
. Wait until you see the Auroras.” Troy leaned over the deck railing, craning his head up to take in the same stark, pure beauty of their home galaxy. “Blow your fucking mind, man.”

“You mean like today?” Hunter winced when he said it, blaming the Malbec, a half-consumed glass of it still dangling from his fingers.

Troy turned, laying his hands on the rail to either side of him, the ghostly light from the stars the only illumination on the dark deck, reducing his face to a mere suggestion rather than distinctive features. “Just what do you mean, my friend?”

Shit.

“Maybe you’d like to tell me. I still don’t fucking know.”

“What’s to know?” Troy inhaled the night air. “Had fun, right?”

“Fun. Christ, I could die a happy man right now.”

Troy chuckled then, shaking his head. “You say that like this is the pinnacle, or something. Like it doesn’t get any better than this.”

“How could it?” Hunter took a drag from his glass, working up the courage. “There was a time — last December, to be specific — when I thought I’d been blessed with a gift. One a man like me never deserved — but one I accepted gratefully.” He lifted a finger from the rim of his glass, pointing it at Troy. “And with the expectation of nothing more.”

“Let me ask you something, Hunt. If there were… something more. Something more than tonight. What would you say to that?”

“I suppose it depends, doesn’t it?”

Jesus, this isn’t happening.

Troy pushed himself away from the rail, the wood of the deck creaking as he walked over to one of the varnished wood Adirondack chairs, pouring himself into it. He looked back up at the sky again, his eyes glittering in the starlight.

“I thought it would be a passing thing, I guess.”

Like a summer storm, intense, but short-lived. Gone as fast as it arrived. Yes, Hunter suspected he knew exactly what Troy meant.

“You hoped it would be, didn’t you?” Hunter knew he didn’t want to hear the answer, but if the magic was going to be dispelled eventually, it might as well be now.

For a long moment, Troy remained silent, his face turned up to the sky. Then he sighed and looked over at Hunter — and that’s when he knew, the sinking feeling so strong in his belly, he thought he might throw up.

Troy hadn’t wanted any of this.

If that’s the case, then why the fuck would they do this? Go to all this trouble?

Something wasn’t adding up here.

“You know how men are, right?” Troy peered back up at the night sky. “They fear change. Especially men like us.”

In the field, in combat, change often brought death. More than that, change brought more chances to fuck something up, even something that should’ve been simple and straightforward. Routine begat safety, which in turn begat less opportunities, less reasons, to change something — and thus introduce chances for something to get FUBAR.

Hunter understood it perfectly, even as it felt like a dagger slowly spearing his heart. He steeled himself against that pain, for he’d known all along the likely truth of it. This had been nothing more than a dream, a mirage.

“I’ll go tell her,” Hunter said, setting down the glass. “I’ll call a cab and let myself out.”

Troy looked at him again, a smile just beginning at the corners of his mouth. “What the fuck are you talking about?”