The Sextet - Sharing [The Sextet Anthology, Volume 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by The Sextet

“and right now
    I’m feeling older than Sarlon.” Shaking her head in disbelief, she
    added, “Clones! I still can’t believe that wily old man did this.”
    Of course, considering who was involved, the fact that he’d
    cloned himself wasn’t too surprising. Sarlon had clawed his way to
    the top, running roughshod over anyone in his way, finally amassing
    one of the largest fortunes in the galaxy. But cloning? She might not
    have been surprised to hear that he had done such a thing, but the act
    was criminal, and “bequeathing” them to a hotel to be little better than
    servants—no, make that slaves —was horrific. After all, tissue cloning worked just as well, and didn’t require killing the host to harvest the

    Double Desire
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    vital organs.
    Nalira was barely aware that she’d been escorted to her seat, but
    when Lon placed a napkin in her lap, Sar’s hands landed on her
    shoulders with the sizzling heat of a branding iron. Her yelp didn’t
    stop him, though, and soon there were tears running down her
    cheeks—tears that were wiped away by Lon’s gentle hands. These
    two might have been a genetic match for Sarlon, but their
    personalities were totally different. Sarlon was the type who would
    have laughed at her for crying or told her to suck it up and dry her
    own damn tears. These men would never be so unkind. Even their
    eyes were different. Both had eyes that were softer, gentler, more
    seductive…
    Sar leaned down and kissed her on the neck. “You’ll feel better
    soon.”
    The touch of his lips sent thrills skittering across her skin and
    elicited an answering throb from her clitoris. Even if he’d kissed her
    there, the response couldn’t have been more immediate, or as
    consuming. Nalira dumbly nodded her reply as Lon offered her a
    drink, holding the glass for her. “Just sit still and relax,” he said in a voice as soft as velvet. “We’ll take care of you.”
    As the meal progressed, the creamy pasta mixed with crab
    triggered an orgasm of a different kind, making her wonder what sort
    of magic sauce had been added to it. She wasn’t that hungry, but, then again, perhaps it had nothing to do with the food—and everything to
    do with them…

    * * * *

    Sar and Lon had worked together on many women, but Sar could
    tell from Lon’s expression as he served her that something different
    was happening here. A strong attachment was starting to form—an
    almost palpable thread that wove between the three of them, binding
    them together. His hands already seemed to know her, almost as

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    Cheryl Brooks
    though they had touched her before and would do so again—many
    times. Wishing she had asked for more than dinner and a massage,
    Sar wanted to spend the whole night with her, though she was clearly
    tired to the point of exhaustion. He could never make the suggestion
    himself, but he could—and would—do everything in his power to
    make her ask them to stay.
    Even her name had intrigued him. Nalira… And though older than
    he and Lon by at least fifteen years, she was still as lovely as her
    name. Many women didn’t take younger men seriously, but Sar had a
    feeling Nalira wasn’t one of them, and if she was, he was more than
    willing to convince her to give them a try.
    He liked the way she looked, the way she felt, and the way she
    smelled, but he was dying to get her naked so he could taste her.
    Reaching forward, he slid his hands from her shoulders down to her
    breasts and began to massage them, taking care to come close to her
    nipples, but not touch them. Too much too soon and she might order
    them from her room, which was to be avoided at all cost. Still, though
    he might not have touched them, he could see their hard peaks
    through the pale silk of her blouse and could look down through the
    open collar to see that there was nothing beneath it but her—no
    chemise, no bra, no nothing. Just hot, fabulous woman.
    The muscles in Nalira’s back and shoulders were like