He went after them.
The fire was declared an accident, but I knew — I knew — where it came from. I knew it was my father's men who set it. It was ruled a structural issue with wiring not being up to code, but we knew the truth. And just like that, the men I loved lost everything that night — their home, their lives, and their grandmother, Ellen.
And after that night, they disappeared.
…Or at least, everyone thought they did.
The last few months have been the hardest of my life. Not because of coming to college, or leaving home, or even putting up with shit like Brett and joining the ridiculous sorority. No, the last few months have been an eternity because I've had to pretend that the two men I love more than anything in this world didn't exist.
No contact, that was the deal. It was all part of the plan, and it was all worth it.
When I saw Bishop and Remy crash through the front door of that party, it took everything I had not to just run into their arms. It took every part of me not to cry for joy and run over and kiss them both right there. But we had to keep to the script and the plan for it all to work, and after months in the making, it all came down to one night.
Leaving my family wasn't going to be hard. Cheating my father out of an obscene amount of money wasn't going to be either. After all, it was a family that I never felt a part of anyways, and one that never taught me love at all. Add to that the fact that my father got his money by screwing people over and ruining people's lives, and there was no remorse there.
The hard part was acting like I didn't like Remy and Bishop taking me roughly and making me theirs. The hard part was covering the fact that rougher, harder, dirtier sex is something the three of us loved. But I knew that if I started begging for it harder and faster when they took me upstairs at that party, the ruse would be over.
No, everyone there had to think the two rough, dangerous men with guns really were forcing me upstairs to have their way with me. It was all part of getting my father to wire the hundred million into the offshore account. Not out of love of course — not from my father — but because of the potential embarrassment of doing nothing when a party full of people was busy telling the media all the horrible things they heard the two robbers doing to me upstairs.
The bodies in the tunnel of course didn't hold them up too long. DNA testing showed they weren’t actually us, but by then, we were halfway to our new lives. There was a lot of hiding for a while, but a month after our escape, the search was called off.
Remy and Bishop's mortician friend had one more favor he owed them, and together with some old friends of theirs, they set it up to look like a houseboat up in Mississippi had exploded during the night from a gas leak. And on board? Yep, you guessed it — the bodies of two men and one woman. Only this time, we'd had all sorts of our DNA sprinkled across the scene — hair strands, fingernail clippings, and even some blood.
The case was closed, and there was a cold, sterile, and really not at all touching (so I've heard) memorial to me at our family plot.
So, yeah — I'm dead now. So are Remy and Bishop. At least, to the world we knew before, we are.
But in reality? Uh-uh, in reality we are very much living.
I cry out as Remy sheaths himself inside, his thick, beautiful cock stretching my pussy so tight as he drives in deep. I whimper, clinging to his neck and feeling his hands gripping my ass tight as he grinds himself inside. I feel Bishop move behind me, and when his hands also trail over my body and grip me tight, I shiver in anticipation.
"You ready for this, princess?" he growls, his thick cock teasing against my ass. I gasp, nodding and turning to look back at him with pleading eyes.
"Yes," I whimper, biting my lip. "Please push it inside."
"I think you need to ask better than that," he growls, that flicker of a smile quickly melting into the fierceness of his gaze. In front of me, Remy groans, pulling me against him as his cock throbs inside of my pussy.
I cry out, feeling him fill me so completely as Bishop's swollen cock head teases over my tight little asshole.
"Please fuck my ass," I gasp.
"With pleasure."
The head eases inside, and my jaw goes slack as as I feel him stretch me open.
"Oh fuck…" I claw at Remy's neck, the two of them standing in front and behind me, their powerful arms holding me effortlessly between them. Bishop slides further inside, and slowly, inch after thick inch of his big cock slides deep inside my ass.
I cry out when the two of them are balls-deep inside of me. Two mouths find my neck — biting and sucking and nipping at me as they start to move. They ease out and then back in, moving as one and letting my body ride the wave between them as they start to fuck me together. Four hands hold me tight, and tease my skin as two thick, beautiful cocks fill me like nothing else.
The moon shines down on us, standing out on the terrace of our house. We're out in the open, and it feels so dirty and sexy to have them take me like this, but of course, no one can see us. After all, we own forty acres here on the coast of Vietnam, with almost two full miles of private beachfront. We're close to a few bigger towns — one where I volunteer at a local animal hospital, and where Remy and Bishop volunteer with the local Habitat for Humanity chapter building houses for those without.
Our house we had built custom — nothing flashy or ostentatious, even if it is big. It sits up a little slope from the beach, and is mostly glass and bamboo — full of light, and nature, and love.
…And the massive, sweeping front porch that looks out over the trees and the beach beyond is perfect for loud, hot sex under a full moon with the two men I love.
We move faster and faster, Bishop and Remy pounding my body mercilessly and demanding the orgasm from me with their cocks. There's a hand on my clit, rubbing me, another grabbing my ass possessively, one on my breasts teasing my nipples, and another on my throat — just hard enough to send the thrill rushing through my body. Whose hands are whose, I don't know, nor do I care. Because with the three of us, it doesn't matter. It’s all love.
My body starts to tremble as the climax begins to build. The fingers between my legs pinch my aching clit as Remy's cock grinds deep inside. A palm spanks my ass hard as Bishop drives every inch deep in my ass. And when the lips find my neck and my shoulder-blades, and the fingers pull at my nipples, and when Bishop tells me to come like a dirty little girl all over their cocks, I lose it completely.
The orgasm slams through me, and I cry out into the moonlit tropical sky as I go crashing over the edge. I can feel Bishop groan behind me, and when his cock begins to pulse inside, I can feel his hot, sticky cum pumping deep into my ass. Remy follows, crushing his lips to mine as he starts to pump rope after rope of thick, hot cum into my pussy, filling me so much that it starts to leak down my thighs.
The two them slowly keep moving, letting it build and build, until the wave takes me right into another climax. It's only then that they come to a stop.
Slowly, we come apart, only to come back together again as we all sink into the hot tub across the deck. Bishop slides in on one side, and Remy on the other, and we just exhale as we look up at the full moon and the stars above.
All of three minutes later, Bishop growls as he leans in and kisses my neck.
"Well I'm ready for round two."
I grin, blushing as I feel Remy move in close on the other side, his hand on my thigh under the water.
"Same here," he purrs.
"Well, maybe I'm done for the night, guys?"
"No you aren't," Bishop growls, his own hand moving to my other leg and tightening there.
"Oh, is that so?"
"Not even close," Remy groans into my ear, making my skin tingle.
"Well, what if I say no?"
"We might just take you anyways." Bishop’s low, throaty growl in my ear has my pussy aching for more of them.
"And what if I run?"
"We'll chase you," Remy growls.
"And we'll c
atch you," Bishop whispers, kissing my ear.
"You promise?" I barely gasp out as they close in.
"Promise."
The End.
Also by Madison Faye
“Innocence Claimed” Series:
His Little Bad Girl
Tempting Daddy’s Boss
Paying The Debt
“The Triple Crown Club” Series:
Royally Shared
Royally Claimed
Royally Tempted
“Possessing Beauty” Series:
Beasting Beauty
Stealing Beauty
Sharing Beauty
Hunting Beauty
“Forbidden” Series:
Flirting With The Law
Breaking Her Innocence
“Three Times” Series:
Bossed Three Times
Taken Three Times
Paid For Three Times
“Twice” Series:
Twice Driven
Twice Bossed
Twice Tackled
“First Time” Series:
Legal
Professor
Freshman
Sugar & Spice: A Billionaire/Virgin Romance
About the Author
Madison Faye is the dirty alter ego of the very wholesome, very normal suburban housewife behind the stories. While she might be a wife, mom, and PTA organizer on the outside, there’s nothing but hot, streamy, and raunchy fantasies brewing right beneath the surface!
Tired of keeping them hidden inside or only having them come out in the bedroom, they’re all here in the form of some wickedly hot stories. Single-minded alpha heroes, sinfully taboo relationships, and wildly over-the-top scenarios. If you love it extra dirty, extra hot, and extra naughty, this is the place for you!
(Just don’t tell the other PTA members you saw her here…)
@madisonfayesmut
MadisonFayeRomance
www.madisonfayeromance.com
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Featured Content
If you’ve made it this far, it means you made it all the way through my trick. And that means, I think you’re owed a treat!
As a very special and spooky Halloween surprise, I’m including two more books of mine in this new-release edition. Bossed Three Times and Royally Shared are two very hot menage romances that I think might be right up your alley after reading Trick And Treat. Sexy, dominant bosses, gorgeous, powerful princes, and they like to share?
Uh, yes please.
Page on for the good stuff, and thanks for your support. Happy reading!
<3,
Madison
Bossed Three Times
Bossed Three Times
Three times the fantasy, three times the trouble.
I’ve got a dirty secret. A crush. Specifically, on my boss.
Well, bosses.
All three of them. Not one, and not two, but three. Three huge, dominant, possessive, gorgeous men.
And you want to know the really dirty part?
They want to make me theirs. They want to make me submit, and make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things I’ve never dared to dream about.
Three men with an offer of a lifetime – the chance to fulfill the dirtiest, filthiest, most forbidden fantasy a girl could ever imagine.
There’s only one question. Do I dare?
They say two is a party and three’s a crowd, but I don’t think that’s right.
Three is perfect. The filthiest, hottest, most mind-blowing type of perfect imaginable.
That is, if I can handle it.
Bossed Three Times is a hot, steamy read involving a mfmm menage romance with three utterly obsessed alpha heroes. This is all about her – no m/m. If you love over-the-top, slightly unrealistic, and wildly dirty romance with plenty of steam, this one’s for you! HEA with NO CHEATING!
Copyright © 2016 Madison Faye
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, organizations, actual events or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status of products referred to in this book and acknowledges that trademarks have been used without permission.
This book is intended for mature, adult audiences only. It contains extremely sexually explicit and graphic scenes and language which may be considered offensive by some readers. This book is strictly intended for those over the age of 18.
All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. All acts of a sexual nature are completely consensual.
1
The door to the garage slammed shut, startling me from the book I was reading at the dining room table. I’d heard the familiar sound of Jason’s car pulling into the garage a few minutes before, followed by the familiar sound of the automatic garage door grinding back down. But the fury in the door-slam and the mutterings down the hall told me something was up.
It also told me he was drunk.
I sighed and dropped the book to the table, rubbing my temples. I glared at the time and at then at the dinner I’d made, now sitting cold on the table.
“Everything alright, honey?”
“It’s fine,” came the sharp response from the hallway, followed by my boyfriend’s stomping steps to the kitchen. Another sigh escaped me as I glanced down at the copy of Honing Your Resume I’d been paging through while waiting for him.
I wasn’t working these days, since Jason had insisted that it was his job to “provide” ever since we’d moved in together the month before. I’d gone along with it, because you do things you never thought you’d do when you think you love someone.
I wasn’t so sure of that after a month of playing second fiddle to Jason’s career — “career”, or rather, his propensity for going out to drinks after work and leaving me bored and stir-crazy back at home. I had a damn masters degree, for crying out loud, and here I was playing housewife all day while my boyfriend was out half the night getting wasted. I’d thought about getting back into the workforce, but the number of job offers I had before we moved in together dwindled, until there was nothing but an empty inbox waiting for me every day.
“The hell are you reading, Arianna?”
I glanced up to see Jason swaying in the doorway, holding a fresh beer from the fridge and reeking of whiskey even from across the room. My eyes dropped to his collar, and suddenly my blood was boiling.
Lipstick.
There on his shirt collar, like the most ridiculous cliche out of a movie.
“Where were you,” I said evenly, ignoring his question.
“None of your damn business.”
I stood and felt my hands ball into fists at my sides, glaring at him.
“Well it is my business, actually, because I’ve been sitting here with dinner waiting for you.”
“Such a fuckin nag,” Jason muttered, swigging from his beer. My gaze moved from the lipstick on his collar to his messed-up hair, the smug look on his face, and I rolled my eyes.
I wasn’t even shocked at this point, just mad at myself for staying this long. Of course this was how this debacle of a relationship was going to end. The zero communication and all his secrets, the fact that he had all the
time in the world to go out with “clients” but no time for me, and the fact that after three months of no sex or any intimacy at all, I was starved for some physical attention
And he came home with the lipstick of some other woman on his collar.
“Oh fuck you, Jason, you think you can just—”
The slap came hard, knocking the wind out of me and leaving a stinging heat across my cheek.
The room went silent and still for a second before I whirled back at him, hand on my cheek and my jaw dropped in shock.
“Are you fucking serious?”
Jason suddenly paled, as if suddenly sobering enough to see clearly.
“Shit, baby.” His eyes were wide and he shook his head.
“Baby, I’m just drunk is all,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, baby, you know I lov—”
“Don’t.”
My voice was ice cutting through his words.
“Don’t even say that, Jason.”
Because that moment right there in that dining room was like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Right then, everything made sense.
“Actually,” I hissed, shaking my head at him. “Don’t ever say it to me again.”
I stormed off to our room before he could even say anything else. I grabbed a suitcase from the closet, half expecting him to run in and stop me, and not at all surprised when he didn’t. Five minutes later, I was stalking towards the front door with a suitcase rolling behind me.
Jason laughed when he saw me.