Mating Rituals [Impulse 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Zara Chase Page B

dusty files after what she’d just experienced simply wasn’t an option. She’d just lie in bed and rest because she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
    When she opened her eyes and glanced at the clock it was almost seven in the evening. She’d slept soundly for almost three hours.
    With a gasp she leapt from her bed and headed for the bathroom. The shower refreshed her, and when she wiped the steam from the mirror and glanced at her reflection she was pleased to see there was a sparkle in her eyes. Better yet, her skin looked as clear, fresh, and revitalized as she herself felt. Even her freckles, large and prominent across the bridge of her nose, didn’t bother her as much as usual.
    “That’s what a mind-blowing orgasm does for a girl,” she said aloud, wondering what to wear.
    Her doubts returned as she rummaged through the small supply of clothes she’d brought with her. Along with them came uncertainties and a whole raft of questions. Why had Tyrone done what he’d done to her? What was in it for him? Was it all a ruse to keep her away from her research because they knew the secret of the weather patterns here and didn’t want it leaking into the public domain?
    Aisha shook her head, trying to think more rationally. It had been fun this afternoon, but she wouldn’t be deterred from her purpose again. She was here to get to the bottom of Impulse’s weird weather patterns and wouldn’t allow anything or anyone to stand in her way. She liked and respected the guys, but this was business.
    She pulled the only dress she’d brought with her off its hanger and slipped into it. A sheath in shiny, green stretchy material that hung off her tits and sculpted her body. It looked good on camera, she was told, but Aisha had always thought it was too revealing, displaying every bulge and pocket of fat. She no longer cared. She wasn’t out to impress anyone. She was here because she had a job to do—nothing more.
    Aisha brushed her corkscrew curls into some sort of submission, applied makeup with a light hand, and, for once, didn’t bother to conceal her freckles. She slid her feet into sandals with four-inch, confidence-giving heels, picked up her purse, and headed for the sitting room.
     
    * * * *
     
    As soon as lunch was cleared away and they’d persuaded Aisha to rest, Kane and Tyrone lost no time in going to their own room, closing the door this time before they got down to business.
    “Christ, that was hot,” Kane said. “Watching Aisha, I mean. I can’t believe how sensual our mate actually is.”
    “I think we just scratched the surface there,” Tyrone replied. “There’s a whole lot more passion inside her just waiting to be released.”
    “Yeah, I hear you. And talking of scratching…”
    Kane expelled a long sigh as he pulled Tyrone into his arms and slid his mobile tongue deep down his throat. Tyrone ground his pelvis against Kane’s and brought his hands into play. He unzipped Kane’s pants, delved inside, and squeezed his balls just the way Kane liked to have them squeezed. With their lips fused together, Kane still managed to groan aloud. He so needed to be fucked and broke the kiss in order to issue commands.
    “I need to be tied up, lover.”
    Tyrone laughed. “Think I need to be told?”
    “Just hurry the fuck up.”
    Both men stripped and stood facing one another, huge cocks rigid—thick, cut, and throbbing like crazy.
    “Get down on all fours,” Tyrone said curtly.
    As soon as Kane was in position, Tyrone moved in with a whip. It was an especially brutal piece of equipment, but both men knew Kane could take it in his present state of heightened awareness. Tyrone brought the thong down so hard that it cracked like a pistol shot as it lashed against his skin. Kane cried out and his cock jerked even more rigidly to attention as he waited for the almost unbearable pain to transmute to pleasure. Every nerve ending in his body sang with pleasure as the hot, pulsating rush spread