• Home
  • Ellie Hunt
  • Claiming Her Twice: An MMF Menage (Dirty Threesomes Book 6)

Claiming Her Twice: An MMF Menage (Dirty Threesomes Book 6) Read online




  Table of Contents

  Get a free sexy story when you sign up for my mailing list!

  Claiming Her Twice

  Get a free sexy story when you sign up for my mailing list!

  Love sinfully hot, wickedly tempting stories?

  About the Author

  Claiming Her Twice

  An MMF Menage

  Ellie Hunt

  Get a free sexy story when you sign up for my mailing list!

  Two hot mechanics - and they want to share me!

  When my car breaks down on the way back to college, I never thought that two hot, young, dominant mechanics would come to my rescue.

  And once they take me back to their shop, I definitely never thought they’d both want to take me… at the same time!

  Even though I’m untouched and totally inexperienced, I don’t know if I can resist… but can my first time be with two rugged, rough men at once?

  Sign up for my newsletter and get Two At Once FREE!

  Claiming Her Twice

  An MMF Menage

  “What’s wrong with it?” Angus asked, frowning at the long, heavy piece of iron work I had just handed him.

  “Mrs. MacAllan says it’s bending when I hangs the pot on it,” I said.

  “My work doesn’t bend, lass.”

  “Take it up with her, then.”

  I knew the renaissance faire’s blacksmith would do no such thing. He, along with everyone else on staff, feared and respected the head cook too much to confront her directly with something as trivial as this.

  If Mrs. MacAllen said her pot crane bent when she hung the stew over the fire on it, then the pot crane bent.

  Angus took the ironwork in his big hands and turned it over and over delicately, as if it were a small wounded bird, feeling it out for ridges and bubbles, anything that might weaken it.

  “She says it’s bending down?”

  “Aye.”

  I sat on a stool in the little cottage. The blacksmith’s hut was made of stone and far away from the rest of the tents — a safety precaution to keep the whole place from going up in flames.

  “Just make yourself at home, then,” said Angus, half sarcastically, still inspecting the crane carefully, holding it up level with his eyes.

  To his right, the fire blazed, making the little building warm and sleepy.

  “Thanks, I will,” I said.

  “You’re bound and determined to get me in trouble, aren’t you,” said Angus.

  I blushed. My family had participated in the faire for years, so I’d been coming there to watch Angus work since I was ten or so, but I caught his meaning.

  Back then, I’d been a kid. A little girl could be interested in watching the castle blacksmith work and it was no problem.

  But now that I was eighteen? Well, that took on another meaning.

  “No one thinks that,” I said.

  “Then why are you running all these errands yourself?”

  I didn’t respond, just sat on my stool and looked into the fire. I came because I loved to talk to Angus and watch him work the forge.

  He was a bear of a man, with a shock of red hair, huge arms and a wide chest and shoulders — probably from the work of being a blacksmith, I thought.

  We’d always had a cranky-but-friendly relationship, and I let him talk to me in ways that no one else on grounds could, not even Mrs. MacAllan.

  Angus was in his mid-thirties, had never married, and it was an open secret that he looked on the faire’s master of horse, Thomas, as his spouse. Everyone knew that they shared a tent. No one had ever seen them so much as embrace, of course, but rumors were rumors.

  I didn’t see why it was such a big deal for me to be alone with him.

  “All right, lass,” he said after a moment. “If you’re going to be in here, you’re going to have to work the bellows.”

  “I’ll do no such thing,” I said, tossing my head.

  “Then you’ll be leaving and finding me someone who will,” he said.

  In the firelight, I could see the smile crinkling around his eyes.

  “But I’ll get my hands dirty,” I said, unable to keep herself from smiling back.

  “That’s the price of my company,” he said.

  I hopped down off of my seat and went to the bellows. I’d worked them for Angus a hundred times before, and in a few moments had the fire roaring and hot again as he held the piece of iron in the center of it.

  It heated slowly, turning a dull red and then bright orange, then incandescent white, as the sweat rolled down my forehead, my neck, my back.

  Finally he took it out and laid it across the anvil. In one massive arm he lifted the hammer and brought it down on the metal, again and again, turning it this way and that with his tongs.

  I swallowed hard, hot and out of breath from working the bellows, but that wasn’t all. I couldn’t help but watch the way Angus’s body moved, his thick arms beating and pounding the metal.

  I couldn’t help but think about those arms around me, on me, holding me down —

  “Bellows,” he said, and reheated it. Then he went back to hammering.

  Angus and I worked in silence during this, like we’d done since I was a kid. This time was no different.

  At last he plunged the long piece of iron into a huge bucket of water, and it hissed and steamed.

  “She’s fixed,” Angus said. “Is there anything else, milady?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Outside, the sun was lowering over the castle. In a few hours I’d have to go home.

  “That was all,” I said, but didn’t move from my perch.

  Angus frowned. “You’re not yourself, lass,” he said. “Is there something—“

  “Did you see the fancy lads what just come through the—milady,” said tall, sandy-haired man who stopped abruptly in the doorway of the blacksmithing shop upon seeing me there.

  “Hello, Thomas,” I said, a little shakily.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were in here,” he said. “I was just coming by to see how Angus’s day was getting on.”

  “Quite all right,” said Angus. “I fixed Mrs. MacAllan’s doohickey, made new shoes for some of the horses and quite a pile of nails.”

  “All in a day’s work,” said Thomas.

  “I trained as a swordsmith, you know,” said Angus. He wiped both his hands on his leather apron. “Aye, with the finest swordsmith in the land.”

  I rolled my eyes again. It’s true that Angus is a very good swordsmith, but it’s not like they’re really in demand these days, and he could really get into his role sometimes.

  “And you’d rather our boys be out there fighting so you can make your fancy weapons?”

  “Not when you put it like that,” grumbled Angus.

  Thomas leaned his forearms on the table. His hair flopped over his forehead. Whenever there were new girls at the faire, he was always a great favorite with them for a time, until they realized that he’d never be interested in them.

  “Buck up,” he told Angus. “Nails aren’t so bad.”

  “I know it,” said Angus.

  “I should go home,” I said with a sigh, sweat still trickling down my back.

  I couldn’t take my eyes from Angus’s huge arms, and now that Thomas was here, neither could be.

  And I couldn’t stop looking at Thomas, either.

  You’re perfectly legal now, I reminded myself. You’re finally allowed to look.

  “Already?” Angus asked, leaning against his bench.

  “Unless you’ve got more work for me,” I said, tilting my head.


  Thomas walked into the shop, hands in his pockets, exchanging a look with Angus.

  “Didn’t you have a birthday last week?” Angus suddenly asked, eyes narrowing.

  I nodded.

  “Eighteen?” Thomas asked, quietly.

  “That’s right,” I said. “I’m finally legal.”

  At the same time, I could feel their eyes crawling down my body. That day I was wearing a bustier and corset just a little tighter than usual, and every time I breathed it pushed my breasts up.

  All day, men had been staring, but I was only wearing it for one person.

  Well, two. And they were both right here.

  “I didn’t give you a gift,” said Angus.

  He walked over to me, stroked my hair with his big hand, sending a jolt downward through my body.

  Even though I’d been in and out of his blacksmith shop since I was a girl, I didn’t think we’d ever had physical contact before — but now that he was standing next to me, stroking my hair, I realized just how physical his presence was.

  He was tall and wide, the biggest man I’d ever seen, and I ached for his touch, just this once.

  To feel his weight on top of me.

  To be shared.

  Then there were fingers on my cheek: Thomas, his hair in his face, his eyes boring into mine as he stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.

  “We could give you your gift now,” he said.

  The touch of his skin on mine felt electric.

  Thomas’s shirt was slightly open at the neck, and he smelled mostly of hay and slightly of horses — the way a man should smell, I thought, and then I wondered where that particular thought had come from.

  Now, Angus had one hand on my back, rubbing me in small circles. A nervous, fluttery feeling was rising to the surface in my body, a feeling I couldn’t quite name but it felt like a deep need.

  A want.

  It felt dangerous.

  I leaned against Angus, craving more of his touch all of a sudden, not quite sure what I was doing or what my plan was from there — I just knew that I wanted to feel my skin on his, and Thomas’s skin on mine, and to see Thomas and Angus — well, doing whatever it was they did.

  I leaned against Angus, taking Thomas’s hand in my own and lacing our fingers together, relishing the contact, and then holding his hand to my lips.

  Gently, I kissed it.

  Thomas and Angus exchanged a look: half fear, and half something else that I couldn’t quite identify.

  Then Angus bent his head down, his hand still firmly on my back, and kissed me on the mouth.

  His lips were a little rough, but they were warm and dry and his stubble only scratched a little. I opened my lips into his and pushed my tongue, softly, into the cavity of his mouth.

  His tongue met my own, forcefully, and our tongues tangled together as they explored the insides of each other’s mouths, lips pressed together hard.

  I could feel the need there, behind the gentleness, something raging and trapped, ready to come out.

  Finally, I broke away, gasping for air, blushing bright red.

  I shouldn’t be doing this, I know I shouldn’t, I thought, but all the same I turned my head toward Thomas, whose hand was still entangled in my own.

  I’ve never even done this with one man, let alone while another man watched.

  Or… joined in.

  Gently, Thomas untangled himself from me and stroked the side of my face, brushing away tears with one thumb, and held my head.

  Then he pressed his lips to mine.

  He didn’t kiss like Angus at all. Where the other man had been a little rough and a little quick, Thomas’s lips were soft and slow. He opened his mouth and let his tongue into mine, insistent but gentle.

  When that kiss ended, my heart was hammering.

  I stood between Angus on one side and Thomas on the other, held between the two men. I could tell I was bright red, and I knew I had just stepped into dangerous waters — but I knew, just as well, that I couldn’t back out now.

  I didn’t want to back out.

  More than anything, I wanted to plunge further in.

  Without taking his hand off of me, Angus put one hand on Thomas’s shoulder, then rubbed his neck, slid his hand up to the side of the other man’s face.

  It was rough but gentle, all at once, and finally he grabbed the front of the other man’s shirt and pulled them together, a little hard, their lips meeting.

  I watched in fascination as the two men kissed, their stubble scratching together. Angus moved his hand from Thomas’s shirt to the side of his face, stroking it, and then to the back of his head, seeming to crush the other man against him with a fierce need.

  Thomas still held one of my hands in his own, but grasped Angus by the waistband of his trousers and pulled so that their bodies met in a crush. I could almost feel the friction between them as the rubbed together, and I had the dangerous feeling again — this time, it was an ache that began in the pit of my stomach, and then worked itself downward, slowly, until it nestled in my loins.

  The two men broke apart, Angus pulled Thomas’s shirt off over his head, revealing his well-muscled, lean torso, his half-tanned arms.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” he said, even as he ran one big hand over the other man’s chest.

  “No,” agreed Thomas. He looked at me, still standing there, between the two men. “Lorna, you should probably leave.”

  Angus’s hand curved into the small of my back, pressing my there. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath, his hair mussed from the activity.

  I put one hand on each of them, finally, feeling the firm muscles beneath the skin, suddenly feeling a little lightheaded with lust.

  Yes, that was the word I was looking for: lust.

  “I won’t be leaving,” I declared.

  Angus bent and nuzzled Thomas on the neck, biting and sucking at the tender skin there. “You heard the lady,” he said, his words slightly muffled.

  Thomas responded by pulling at Angus’s shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it on the floor, then reaching for me, pulling my in between the two men by my waist.

  Thomas bent his head to the juncture of my neck and shoulder, nuzzling the soft skin there, his stubble tickling me, as his hands searched for a way to start removing my garments, as I ran my hands up and down Angus’s broad chest and sculpted stomach, amazed that even in the heat of the blacksmith’s shop, I’d never seen him without his shirt before.

  Of course, before right now, I’d never realized how much I wanted to, but the fire was burning inside me and there was no putting it out.

  Angus’s lips met mine again, now a little more insistent, pressing into me harder than before, his big, hard body held tightly against mine. For the first time, through the layers of my skirts, I felt his erection beneath his pants, a long, hard rod that pressed against my pelvis with need.

  I felt like I was melting with heat from the inside out.

  “Lass,” said Thomas, behind me. “I give up. How do you get out of this?”

  Between the two men, I laughed and reached for the hooks that went up my front, deftly undoing them one by one, and then removing my outer garment, a plain green everyday overdress.

  “I never would have guessed that,” Thomas murmured, his mouth now on my revealed upper back.

  Angus turned his attention to untying my various petticoats, and when those were off, I stood in my thin cotton shift, the last garment I wore underneath all the others.

  Thomas grabbed me gently by the hips and nibbled at one earlobe while Angus ran two fingers down the front of my chest, finally landing on my pert nipples, stroking them gently through the thin fabric I still wore.

  A soft moan escaped my lips, eyes closed and head tossed back.

  “She likes it,” said Thomas.

  “Aye, she does,” said Angus. He put his hands on my ribcage and stroked my nipples with his rough, calloused thumbs, getting another moan out of me.
/>
  “Quite a bit, by the sound of it.”

  Then, Thomas had Angus by the waistband of his trousers again, pressing the three of us together hard, and before I knew what was happening, he had the other man’s belt undone and Angus was kicking his trousers away, across the floor, and he stood, fully naked, his huge erection standing proudly in the air.

  The lust rose again in me, even stronger now, and I felt my pussy gush. With one hand Angus reached for Thomas and with the other he took me by the hip, crushing me in between them as they kissed again, hard this time, with a fiery intensity.

  I could feel Thomas’s erection between my buttocks, thick and hard, pressing against me urgently even as he pushed his tongue into the other man’s mouth.

  When they broke apart, I turned around, my back against Angus, pressing against him in a way that felt so right even if I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing, and undid Thomas’s belt myself, letting him kick his trousers away across the floor.

  Then, I took each of their long, hard cocks in one hand.

  I’d never touched one before and had only ever seen one by accident, but some lusty instinct told me what to do, as I slid each hand, slowly but surely, toward the root, and then back down to the tip, making the two men groan in unison and grip each other, so hard that their fingers sunk into flesh.

  Angus’s hand began stealing down my torso, beginning with a gentle nipple pinch, and then moving down, past my bellybutton, to the soft patch of dark hair. He stroked me there with a few gentle fingers, probing further and further. my body jolted when he brushed my pleasure nub, and he rubbed it a few times before moving on to stroke my soaking wet lips, moving inside them with one finger.

  “Are you a virgin?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  I blushed, even though I was between two naked men.

  “One never knows,” said Thomas.

  Angus took both my hands by the wrist, guiding them away from the two men’s members, and then, with no warning, lifted me into the air. By instinct I wrapped my legs around him as he held me up with one arm, sweeping his table clear of tools and debris with the other, sending everything clattering to the floor.