Magenta steadied herself after she checked the roast in the oven. It glistened nicely. If only the rest of her life was as easy as preparing a perfect dinner. She’d gotten the hang of that by the time she’d turned eleven—after her mother abandoned Magenta and her five siblings to be a rockstar in a country halfway around the world.
Somehow, her ability to slip into Mom’s role didn’t deter her own want for children, at least not after she’d met and married Malcolm. He wanted a litter, and she wanted him to be happy.
She had to admit that, now, after years of trying, Magenta wanted kids, too. Wanted to right the wrong done to her so long ago.
But this morning, her pregnancy test was negative, even after the trials she went through to conceive. Magenta gulped back the mixed feelings she had when she thought of it—of how her husband had tied her up, fucked her in front of a room full of strangers, and left them do what they wanted with her body afterward.
She’d come so many times. And so had they.
Still, she was left without a baby.
A strong, warm arm cinched around her waist as the amber scent of her husband enveloped her. His mouth found the side of her neck. “Hello, beautiful wife.”
Magenta wiggled back into him, feeling safe and whole in his arms, with her back to his chest and his breath against her skin.
His nose traced her pulse. “You smell good.”
She smiled. “That’s the roast.”
After another long whiff of her skin, he shook his head and applied his teeth to her earlobe. “No. That’s you. You make me hungry in so many ways.”
Mmm. Magenta loved it when he was like this, his hips swaying lightly into hers.
“But I hope you have enough food for three because Gavin will be joining us tonight.” Her husband’s hand dropped low between her thighs to cup and gently stroke her.
Need shot through Magenta, and heat settled low in her center at the implication in his voice. The three of them hadn’t been alone in this house together since her humiliation, but every time she’d caught a glimpse of him otherwise, his gaze burned her up.
His want to fuck her again obvious in the way he trapped her for a second with his intensity.
Magenta sank into Malcolm’s probing fingers, wishing she’d worn a skirt. But maybe that wasn’t such a good idea with Gavin coming over.
Malcolm laughed darkly into her hair. “I can’t wait for dessert.”
The implication was clear. She was dessert.
Slowly, he retreated to make drinks, which meant his best friend would be there at any moment.
Magenta steadied herself against the counter and looked at him over her shoulder. That grin sent too much air into her lungs. They were going to tease her with this all throughout dinner.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened and pulled the roast out of the oven and set it on the table as Gavin walked in with a bottle of wine and a black box with a shiny black ribbon.
“For dinner. And for after dinner.” That good-old-boy grin and accompanying wink made her skin hot. “To say thank you for having me.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you.” Magenta took them from him, and Malcolm appeared at her back, trapping her between them for a moment.
That intensity—the one that said he wanted to fuck her—resurfaced in his blue eyes. He was the opposite of Malcolm, who was tall, dark, and most definitely sexy. Gavin looked like Prince Charming. It’s what made his dark side all the scarier, like it came out of nowhere.
And the two of them together amplified both of their predatory sexualities.
Magenta had always been a strong woman, but this fantasy, one of being shared in such a primal and forceful way, worked for her. Maybe it was just these two, but she felt safe enough to let them take control of her.
Licking her lips, she tightened her grip on the gifts and slid from between them. She placed the box on the counter and opened the bottle of wine. It was a nice, full-bodied red by the smell of it.
Malcolm and Gavin smiled at her, and she shot her hands out at the table. “Sit. Food is served.”
She waited for them to take their seats at opposite sides of the table. They put her in the middle again, and Magenta settled into the tension they created. Her clothes were too tight as she lowered into her seat.
Both men ate her food with gusto, and she drank most of the wine.
Magenta sipped from her glass every time they made an off-hand comment about sharing. The anticipation was killing her. Finally, when they finished their meal, she unbuttoned the top of her shirt, overheating from the mixture of lust and inebriation.
Malcolm leaned back, adoration glinting in his eyes as his gaze roamed over her.
Gavin’s look was darker, naughtier.
The combo pushed her to her feet, taking Gavin’s dish and her own to the sink. Malcolm followed her with his, and he pressed her into the counter with a salacious roll of his hips. He breathed down her throat and tipped her head back with a nibble to her ear.
“I want you to go back, crawl between his knees under the table, and take him with your mouth.” Malcolm nudged into her a little harder and kneaded her hips. “And I’ll meet you under there for you to sit on my face.”
Then, it would go from there. Oh god, why did she want this so badly?
Why did he?
She nodded, and her husband retreated, giving her a swift swat on the ass before he turned her to do as he’d instructed.
Biting her lip, she took slow, unsteady steps back to the table and Gavin.
His hand feathered his blonde hair away from his face as he watched her.
When she braced the side of the table to kneel, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her closer instead, making her step in between his legs and descend slowly, bending to give him a better view down her shirt and leaning her mouth dangerously close to his.
Desire blazed in his eyes, and his lips parted with the want and tease and denial.
A low grumble vibrated in his chest as she sank to the carpet, her fingers digging into his thighs. He was hard and bulging against the front of his slacks, curving up and to the left.
Magenta reached for his fly, and he touched her face, tracing her cheek and lips before his thumb dipped into her mouth, and her tongue peeked out to taste the salt on his skin.
She freed him and pressed her teeth into his flesh.
He flashed her a grin. “No teeth.”
Narrowing her eyes, she wrapped a hand around his cock and took his thumb fully into her mouth, proud when she didn’t gag.
Read the rest of Magenta’s story here.
After her husband and a group of his friends tie her up and use her body, Magenta is left without what she really wanted—a baby.
Her husband and his best friend intend to make it up to her after a tense dinner together. Sharing her seems to heighten the dominating sexuality in them both.
Will she be able to submit to them so easily this time? More importantly, can she handle the clear intensity and passion that her husband’s best friend shows her?
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