Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance

Chapter 38

I take a last olive stone from my mouth, placing it carefully on the plate before I put that to one side. A

final swig of the wine to freshen my mouth, then I take Charlotte’s plate from her. She doesn’t resist but

sits staring at me with that rabbit-in-the-headlights, jade-eyed gaze that drew me to her from the first. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

I hold out my hand, and as she accepts it, I stand, she rising with me. Michael follows, taking his place

to stand behind her as I steer her by the shoulders to face me.

She knows he’s there, her eyes keep flicking sidelong, as though to turn, but not quite doing so.

I slide a hand from her shoulder, my palm pressing the back of her head as I stoop to kiss her. Her

mouth opens under mine as I tease her lips apart with my tongue, and I feel rather than hear the moan

that runs through her body.

Standing back, I take the hem of her top between thumb and forefinger, lifting it up and over her head.

The rise and fall of her chest is more visible now. Not touching her, I say, “Face Michael. Finish

undressing.”

She swallows but turns. She’s trying to look him in the eye, but her eyes fall before he lifts her face to

his. But not as I did, holding her by the chin, forcing her to look at me. Instead, with the gentlest of

pressure and a single finger, he guides her to meet him. And for the first time in too many days, I see

him smile; that soft-eyed ‘I’m here for you’ smile that is his gift to her.

She’s trembling a little, but he bends to kiss her, very softly, very gently. And as he reaches around her,

his movements are hesitant, giving her the opportunity to back away if she wants to.

She doesn’t, and from behind, I watch as he unclips her bra, then glides back around her to palm her

breasts.

And….

Hallelujah….

…. I scent her arousal…

Leave them to it for a minute….

…. better that way….

…. let them remake old ground….

…. and I’ll enjoy watching….

I stand back, positioning myself to see them, feeling better as I see the warmth between them growing,

that connection they have reasserting….

They’ve been to hell and back together….

They both want this

It only needed something to take them over that edge….

…. Away from the pain….

One hand cupping a breast, almost weighing it as it sits in his palm, he scrapes at the tip with a thumb.

The nipple and its partner tighten, rose-pink buds nubbing out as they crinkle.

There’s heat in his eyes, growing joy in hers. Both are smiling and they’re moving to meet. Their lips

brush, curving as they do so. With a hand on her shoulder, another at her waist he pulls her close and

her body curves, contouring to his, flesh against flesh.

Strange how we can hurt the ones we love the most….

…. This is how it’s supposed to be….

Their movements are soft and sensual, both smiling as their lips brush. The sight is beautiful and

beguiling….

Empathic….

He turns her again, to face me once more. There’s a light in her eyes that’s been missing for too

long….

Joy….

…. Arousal….

…. Love….

And I flow with the mood. Michael sweeps her long, lovely hair from her face, back behind her, leaving

him free to nip with his teeth at the soft curve of her neck while I meet her mouth, tasting her….

And all the while I ponder how joy and love overlap and flow into emotional love….

…. Sensuality….

…. Sexual love….

And how the body and mind, heart and spirit meet….

…. The Three of Us….

Her eyes are glassy as the gems they resemble, her arousal palpable. Her musky perfume swirls up as

she moves, and her skin is sheening.

There’s a movement around waist level; Michael sliding down her skirt, stepping her out of it along with

her panties, then folding both neatly, lying them to one side before returning to his place behind her, his

hands resting either side of the contour of her waist to hip, his fingers and palms flat against her skin.

She’s so beautiful. It’s by far not the most admirable thing about her, even if it is what first attracted me

to her, but somehow, it’s hard to hold in the head just how lovely she is naked; that image of smooth

alabaster curves, her heavy breasts, flat belly and long limbs, her flowing fiery hair, matched by the fox

at her loins, and those eyes, green-gold in the half-light of the bedroom….

Always those eyes hold me….

But now I meet with Michael’s cyan gaze….

And it occurs to me that perhaps she sees his eyes as I see hers. Almost hypnotic in their hold.

How does a woman see him?

What does she see when she looks into his eyes?

But for me, it is simply an exchange of signals, one that we have practised between us for many a

year….

As she stands, trembling before me, I pick her up, my arms under thigh and shoulder and lie her on the

bed, then nod Michael to her. I retire a little, taking my time as I undress.

He sits by her, stroking her, open-palmed over thigh and stomach, shoulder and breast, as she mewls

and quivers. His voice is a murmur, but still, I catch the words. “What would you like?”

She reaches up, snagging a stray lock from his face….

How does he always seem to be overdue for a cut?

“You,” she says. “I’ve missed you.”

He sighs, softly, quietly. “I never went away. I’m sorry if it seemed otherwise” He caresses her with a

single finger, tracing the contours of her lips and cheekbones, then stoops to kiss her again before

sliding down to a breast.

And this is so much what I have wanted to see. The two of them, together, Making Love.

His mouth on her nipple, his palm slides down the sleek curve of her belly, weaving into curls, easing

further and down. He murmurs something, I can’t make out what, but she eases her thighs apart,

angling her hips for him as he seeks her clit.

I’m warming too, the blood beginning to pound in my ears, to pool in my groin. I move a little to see

what he’s doing, watching as, thumbing back the sheath, he plays her bud. She’s whimpering under his

touch, her fingers gripping his head where he still suckles at a breast. And as he splays her folds,

opens her then penetrates, her whimpering grows to moans.

She arches, straining her knees wide, head pressing back against the pillow. His fingers are slick,

gleaming now with her thighs, wet and glistening.

Watching her as he sits upright, Michael gently finger-fucks her. His movements are slow, barely a

thrust, but I think he’s stretching his fingers wide inside her. His own colour is rising now, his face

flushing as he watches her mounting heat. Flashing me a look, he stands to one side, undressing.

Lips parted, a slight gleam of teeth showing, she pants as she looks up at me. Her gaze travels my

body; hovering over my erection before returning to my face. Standing at the end of the bed, I look

down at the long, lovely curved length of her. Her breasts rise and fall with her now heavy breathing.

The soft curve of her belly vibrates with her pulse-beat and her pussy, red and swollen as ripe fruit,

glistens.

I seize her ankles, her breath hitching as I tug her down the bed towards me. Pulling her until her hips

edge the mattress, her legs over-hanging, I find my teeth gritting. Both she and I know my intentions

and she arches back, inviting me as I kneel between her thighs.

Kneeling upright so I can watch her, palms pressed hard against sleek muscle, I press her thighs apart,

hard, straining her wide.…

Mine….