Page 58 of Boneyard HEA

“Also…” I cannot help saying this, I need my facts to make sense, sometimes. I lower my voice, am tempted to lean my head into his shoulder. “Uhh. You can’t fuck me if I’m sewn there.”

He kisses me again, softly, presses his thigh in rhythmically until I’m half mesmerized. “I’ll take them out, fuck you, then stitch you back up.”

“Oh.” Oh fuck. Now I’m stupidly turned on. Did I miss a sir? “Sir!”

He ushers me onward. “Go.”

Why has Tomás saying he’ll fuck me then redo the stitches made me horny? Hornier. The mindfuck in that has possibly deceased my brain cells.

“I like your idea, Tomás. Today, it’s sir for me, too, Juniper. You first.” Mr. Loxland steps aside to let me pass. “I want to watch that ass wiggle. And imagine the look on your face when I place my first stitch.”

“Umm.” No words come to me and I shut my mouth and sneak by him. What have I done to trigger this? I suppose if I absolutely opt out, they won’t do it? But I won’t, unless I forget a sir and then… shit. Now I’m imagining myself with my legs bound open, tied up, as he comes in with a needle and thread. This arrangement is nuts. I don’t know why I like it this way.

Wait. No, I do.

Fear and sex. Fear is a spice. I figured this out before, and it’s still the reason why I like them ordering me about. Why I like daring them to do things to me, kinda, sorta. It’s exhilarating.

But I have reservations. I am going to have to remember to say sir. A needle sinking into my lips down there, the pain would be incredible. I wince then trot down the last few steps.

I guess I’m getting used to the CNC Fraternity craziness because I can pass most of it…them, without gawking, much. Besides, most are doing it pretty normally—on the grass at the side or on sturdy deckchairs or sprawling outdoor lounges, if in threesomes and foursomes as well as twosomes. Though a few are wearing kinky clothing, nakedness and revealing swimwear is common.

Is the pool full of come?

I eye the water as we head for the right-hand edge and cannot spot anything obvious in the pristine blue-greenness. The bottom bears a gentle mural of the seabed.

Is this Russian, Zasha, here? I look for him while we make our way along the inner length of the pool before dropping our gear onto an unused lounge that lies below a large umbrella.

Whips? Floggers? Impact play? None, except for a spanking. A petite mermaid in the water is getting screwed, I think—judging by her clutching the pool’s edge, the jolting of her body, her moans, and by the man as big as a walrus at her back.

Wait. He’s bald. That’s almost certainly Zasha Morosova. I half raise my hand, then stop myself. My men have sat on the edge of the pool, legs in the water. They’ve both undressed completely, and it is, as far as I can recall, the first time they’ve done this in public. The ripple of muscles, the ridges of their abs, and Tomás’ thick thighs entice me to ogle them. Love a man with big thighs. Oof.

I’m woken from my reverie.

“Off with the dress, before you sit down.”

“The sarong, sir?” I discard the sarong, let it fall to the paving. I give myself a figurative pat on the back. I remembered to say sir, though it’s pussy preservation motivating me.

“Yes. Sit.’” He pats the pool edge between them. Tomás offers me his hand.

“Sir, is that him?” I jerk my head toward walrus man.

“Someone behind me? I’m not looking after you did that. Sit.”

Except Mr. Loxland has already turned and looked. He swings back. “It is him. I doubt he’d care about random guests staring. He is nailing a mermaid.”

The hand is still there. Tomás cranks up an eyebrow and beckons. I take his hand and sit between them, letting my feet dangle in the pool. The water is brilliantly cool, just how I like it. “Sorry.” Then I hurriedly add, “Sorry, sirs. Fuck, this is going to be hard to remember.”

They’ve leaned back to speak behind me.

“Best idea ever?” Tomás says.

“For sure. She’s going to forget at least once.”

“We could take bets.”

I turn and frown.

Loxland’s slips his hand into the back of my bikini bottom, sliding down to tease my ass, while Tomás places his on my thigh. With the two of them laying claim to me, tingles spread like dancing fire from where they touch, my skin, my core, my breasts, softly arousing.