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Their Virgin Princess (Masters of Ménage #4)(80)

By:Shayla Black


Afternoons were all about relaxing, and nights were for exploring.

Yeah, he was in no hurry to go to back to civilization. He kind of loved island life.

She giggled, actually giggled, and turned her body into his, one leg tangling between his, the intimacy doing strange things to his heart. "I think you're all just permanently aroused, but I love it."

He was glad because they were all on her at least twice a day. He kissed her, relaxing because eventually Mr. Happy would get what he wanted, and Cooper was damn straight content to just lay with her for a minute or two. "I think Dane wants to play with his flogger tonight."

Dane had built a Tropical Dungeon. He'd been busy, using their knives and his constructed weapons to build their shelters. Shelters. Because Dane wasn't happy with some craptastic Survivor hut. No. Only the best for his former CO. He'd managed to put together a sleeping shelter with luxurious pillows and blankets they'd saved from the plane, a shed for food and water storage. And he'd found a cave in the inland that he'd tricked up so they would be comfortable during storms. He was the MacGyver of island living.

And Lan was the provider. The dude could kill shit. He had a freaking sixth sense when it came to hunting and fishing. Their bellies were full every night thanks to him.

Cooper was proud to be the workhorse and the medic and the all-around Alea whisperer. He'd once wondered what role he could play in this family, but he'd discovered that he was the peacekeeper. When the other two didn't know how to talk to their woman, he was the one they turned to. They were all way better now, but there were still points of contention.

She still wasn't ready to handle them being on top of her, and there were still plenty of acts that set her mind spinning back to her captivity.

Alea rose up to one elbow, looking down on him. Damn, but she was sweeter though. "What do you think the flogger is like? I don't know much about it. I've heard the word, but I don't really know what it means. I know sailors used to get flogged on occasion."

He had to smile. "It's not quite the same, baby."

"Is it like getting whipped?"

He didn't want her to worry. They were trying to move her slowly into the BDSM fun. "Not at all. There are a lot of different kinds of floggers, but my personal favorite is deerskin. It's soft. We can have another one made at some point. But before we would ever play around with it, we would let you touch it, get to know it. It wouldn't hurt. It's more like a massage, but it can get you into subspace."

Her gorgeous dark eyes rolled slightly. "Yeah, you guys like me there."

"Do you like it there?"

Her head came back down, resting on his chest, the sun shining down on their bodies. "You know I do. It's very relaxing. Who knew that I would find a spanking ultimately relaxing?"

But spanking hadn't exactly achieved what they wanted it to. They'd been trying to get her to open up, to talk about what had happened during her captivity. It wasn't some perverse curiosity. Until she talked about it, she couldn't really heal, couldn't move on.

Cooper wasn't dumb. This idyll in paradise was a complete break with everything she knew, everything that weighed on her and dragged her down. It was easy to throw off stress about tomorrow here because she didn't have to worry about being a princess or the press or family obligations. She could be their island lover. He got that, but they had to think about the future.



       
         
       
        

They had to think about what happened when they were back in Bezakistan. If they got back to Bezakistan.

She nuzzled his chest. "If I relax anymore I might die. You guys won't let me do anything."

"Because we love to take care of you." He rubbed his hand along her back, down to her ass. He loved her ass. She'd been wearing the plug for a couple of hours every day, going up to a bigger plug twice now. She was almost ready to take them. God, he couldn't wait. No matter how many times he'd gotten inside her, every damn time seemed like the first.

"I think it's because I ruined the conch that second night. No one will let me near the fire. I can learn, you know."

She was a horrible cook. Seriously bad. Like had a curse on her bad. "Baby, I like to cook. Don't take that away from me. Here, come give me a kiss."

She'd gotten good at fishing with Lan. He was even teaching her to throw a spear, and she'd become the freaking queen of weaving together palm fronds for their ever evolving roof, but he wasn't letting her near their food.

"Fine, but we're going to talk about this," she said, getting to her elbows and bringing her mouth close to his. He loved the husky quality of her voice. She gave in to pleasure so easily now.