Trained by Three Panthers [Caves of Correction 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)
Caves of Correction 3
Trained by Three Panthers
Mackenzie Weymouth (Kenz) came here to the island with her friends Maddy, Aria, and Piper, to experience BDSM and hot ménage sex. So far Kenz’s three delicious male tour guides, Colter, Declan, and Asher Lang, have only shown her the island’s scenery. It’s very pretty indeed, but not at all what she planned to do during her week-long vacation.
The three brothers, all panther shape-shifters, are eager to get to know Kenz a whole lot better. Preferably naked and chained up in their dungeon. But they’re tour guides and showing her the beaches and coves, the hills and vistas, are their job. Just when they’re finally about to introduce her to the delights of the dungeon and the BDSM games they’ve so carefully planned for her, they learn Hurricane Nathan is heading toward the island. Surely fate couldn’t possibly be this cruel to them.
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 34,720 words
TRAINED BY THREE PANTHERS
Caves of Correction 3
Cara Adams
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
TRAINED BY THREE PANTHERS
Copyright © 2015 by Cara Adams
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-475-4
First E-book Publication: June 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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AUTHOR’S NOTE
Four friends decide to take a week’s vacation at the BDSM-themed “Caves of Correction” resort set on a small private island off the Carolina coast.
This series is the stories of Madeline Sinclair, Aria Taverner, Mackenzie Weymouth, and Piper Boyle. Each book is its own complete romance, but the events overlap because they’re all at the resort together. I hope by the time you read the second book you’ll be waiting for an event, wondering how this heroine and these men are going to deal with it.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Author's Note
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
TRAINED BY THREE PANTHERS
Caves of Correction 3
CARA ADAMS
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Mackenzie Weymouth had spent her entire life avoiding sports in any form. Her idea of physical activity was sitting on the couch and picking up the remote to change the channel on the TV when football or baseball came on. Even when it came to walking, Kenz considered the distance between where she parked her car in the employee parking lot and her desk a perfectly adequate amount of walking for the day. Although, if she was honest, she didn’t mind walking somewhere pretty on a nice sunny day with friends. It was just that the planets almost never aligned, so all the elements weren’t in place, and she’d rather stay at home.
And now these men were expecting her to get into a teeny-tiny boat and paddle it?
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t sign up to go in one of those things,” she said firmly, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“Well, ma’am, that’s true. But it’s either get in the kayak and see the island from the water or else walk around it,” the truly delicious-looking guide in his navy blue Caves of Correction T-shirt said.
“Walk? Up all those hills along those narrow dirt paths?” Kenz was annoyed at the screeching sound in her voice. But seriously, walk? Wasn’t that a rude four-letter word?
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kenz stared at Mr. Yummy. The edges of his lips were tilting up in a smile. He was fucking teasing her.
One of the other men wearing the same uniform T-shirt and making no attempt whatsoever to hide the fact that he was laughing at her said, “When I was a teenager I broke my arm and my foot so I couldn’t use crutches to get around. Mom wheeled me to school each day in a wheelbarrow. If you like I could go get it. We could even put some pillows in it so your ass won’t get banged against the steel as we take you over the rocks.”
Kenz was very tempted to tell him to do that, but she had a feeling he really would and she’d end up having to walk instead of being bounced out of a wheelbarrow. At least in a boat she wouldn’t be likely to end up walking too much.
“No, that’s okay. I’ll get in the fucking boat.”
“Kayak,” the third man said, correcting her.
All three men were totally delicious. All had black hair and really dark eyes, along with muscles bulging out of their uniform shirts and tanned skin.
Two of them were wearing board shorts, and their legs were as tanned as their arms. The third one, the leader, rolled his pants legs up before stepping into the water and holding the boat—kayak—still for her. The middle o
ne, the one who’d mentioned the wheelbarrow, held her arm and led her to the kayak.
“Step into the center of it. I’ll hold you steady while you sit down.”
The boat wobbled and bounced on the water, but his hand under her elbow did support her as she climbed in, sat on the narrow seat, and tucked her legs into the space in front of her. She pushed her glasses up her nose again, and pulled her hat down tighter over her hair.
The bossy one climbed onto the seat behind her while the nice one handed her a paddle. He said, “You dip the oar—”
“In your dreams, buddy. You might have convinced me to get in the boat, but no way am I paddling it.”
“Well, don’t drop it and lose it,” the man sitting behind her said.
That was a point. She supposed they’d add the cost of a new one to her account for the week if she did. Carefully she tucked it along the length of her body, one end safely inside the kayak at her feet, the other end resting under her arm.
Kenz folded her arms over the oar, paddle, or whatever the hell it was, and looked all around her. This was her first full day at the BDSM Caves of Correction resort, and she was more than ready to see the sights, especially any ones that included men as handsome as these three. She was actually quite surprised that there were three of them. She’d assumed a single guide would show her around, not an entire team. Then she frowned. They sort of looked alike with the same coloring and build. But there was a similarity in the shape of their faces as well. Right now she didn’t want to turn around and stare at the bossy one seated behind her, but she was sure he had the same patrician nose and slightly square jaw as the other two in the kayak beside hers. Hmm.
“What are your names? Are you brothers or cousins?” she asked.
“Didn’t Colter introduce himself to you last night? How rude. I’m Declan Lang. Sitting behind you is my brother Colter, and my younger brother Asher is behind me,” said the one who’d laughed at her and suggested the wheelbarrow.
“How did you break your leg and arm, Declan?”
“Foot. I was a teenager growing fast and had temporarily lost my usual superb motor skills. I jumped from rock to rock and missed.”
Mackenzie couldn’t help herself. She laughed at him. “I’m sorry you hurt yourself, but I have to suggest your skills were less than superb, at least right then.” She was still giggling and grinning at him.
“But these days they are once again extremely good.”
He waggled his eyebrows at her, his smile every bit as broad as hers. Heat pooled in her belly. Hot damn. Were these the men who would be with her for the entire week? Were they going to teach her all about punishment, submission, and sex? “Are you three going to be my guides for this week or are you only on duty today?”
The man behind her, the bossy one who called her ma’am all the time, stopped paddling and leaned forward.
“You belong to us this week, Mackenzie Weymouth. You signed a contract saying we could do all sorts of things to you for a whole week. We plan to teach you amazing facts about bondage and submission.”
Kenz shivered at the heat of his breath on her neck. His voice was so sexy it was sending thrills and chills all through her body.
He spoke even more softly, almost whispering. “And ménage sex. We three will give you harder orgasms than you’ve ever imagined when we all fuck you together. Maybe even tonight.”
Kenz’s swim shorts were suddenly wet with her desire. Ménage sex had been a dream of hers for years, and she’d ticked that box on the contract without hesitation. But she hadn’t really thought about three men. Mentally she’d pictured two cocks, one in her cunt and the other in her mouth. She’d even spent a whole evening practicing how to deep-throat a man, using a banana, and then, when she was reasonably sure she could do it, her favorite purple dildo. But three? Fuck!
“When tonight?” she asked, her heart pumping twice as fast as usual.
But he just laughed. “Oh no. That’s not the way it works. The submissive has to learn to trust her Doms. The Doms plan the scene to bring the sub pleasure. Part of that pleasure comes from waiting and wondering. Now, pick up the oar and we’ll teach you to paddle.”
“Dammit, I didn’t come here to learn to row a boat. I came for—” Oops. She’d almost told them her secret hope.
But all three men were laughing at her.
“Rowing and paddling are not the same at all. Here, let’s get you started.”
It was Declan speaking. He and Asher paddled their kayak really close beside the one she was in, and they began showing her how to hold the paddle, how to dip it into the water, how to balance on her seat, and a million other things. At first she was more confused than anything else, but after a while she understood what she was supposed to be doing, and then she caught the rhythm and found she was actually moving herself along without any help from Colter who was sitting behind her.
Admittedly Colter did most of the work, but by midday they’d paddled a long way around the island, showing her high cliffs and beautiful rock formations, and now they paddled up a tiny, narrow inlet to an almost hidden, miniscule beach with scarcely enough sand to park both kayaks on it.
It had to be a place people came to regularly because at the back of the beach, there was a circle of big stones, blackened by smoke. Asher disappeared for ten minutes, then returned with an armful of kindling and lit the fire. Declan pulled out meat and began barbecuing it over the fire, and Asher disappeared and returned with more, bigger logs of wood. It wasn’t cut in even sizes. Well, it wasn’t cut at all, so she knew it was deadfall he’d collected, rather than stored there ready to use.
While the food was cooking, Asher and Colter took her to the water and Asher said, “Let’s swim.”
Kenz could swim. It was one thing she did know how to do, although likely people who lived surrounded by water as these men did would consider her abilities rather minimal.
“I’m not really into physical activities,” she said, hedging.
“I guessed that when you didn’t want to walk or paddle the kayak. But don’t worry. We won’t let you drown,” Asher said.
She was hot and sweaty, so she pulled off her T-shirt, hat, and flip-flops and set them on a nearby pile of rocks. She waded into the water until it was up to her waist. It wasn’t cold, but it was cool and refreshing after sitting in the kayak for hours. She eased forward until she was almost floating and swam a few strokes.
The two men swam on the ocean side of her, and she understood it was their way of giving her space while still looking after her. She splashed around for a while and then swam back again before walking out of the water to the very edge of the sand. She crouched down and looked for shells or pretty rocks, but the sand was clean and bare.
She walked back to her hat, dried the water off her glasses, and climbed onto the rocks, wandering around there for a while. There were plenty of things to look at and the island was so quiet and peaceful. It exuded serenity and harmony—so different from her everyday life, with all its noise, stress, and tensions. Maybe that was why she wanted to try BDSM—to find the peace that was supposed to come when a Dom took charge of a sub’s life.
Kenz shrugged. Well, she was here, and during this week she’d find out. She’d been looking for another job for months and not found one she liked that paid anything as well as her current job. But maybe if she found peace and relaxation in the dungeon she wouldn’t find her work so draining and stressful.
“Lunchtime,” Declan called out.
Kenz’s tummy rumbled, and she realized she’d been smelling the barbecue cooking and was unconsciously looking forward to eating. She walked across the tiny beach to the fire and sat on the sand. Asher pulled some skewers out of his backpack and threaded a steak on one, handing it to her. Once she was holding it he held up a bottle of ketchup, but she shook her head.
“No thank you. My blood pressure is high enough without added salt.”
“Why is your blood pressure high? Do you take me
dication for it?” Asher asked.
She shook her head twice, watching the steam rise off her lunch. It smelled amazing but likely it was too hot to eat just yet.
“Stressful job. I’ve been looking around to find something less stressful but that pays as well. So far without success.”
“Big credit card debt?” Colter asked.
She thought he sounded a little cross or maybe worried, and she hurried to reassure him that he wouldn’t lose money on having her here this week. “No, nothing like that. No debts, just a desire to keep things that way. My grandmother, my father’s mother, was a teenage single mom, and my dad instilled in me the need to find a good job and save a cushion of money in case anything went wrong.”
“Damn good advice,” Asher said, nodding wisely.
“What do you do?” Declan asked.
“Shift supervisor at a call center. And no, before you can ask, we do not treat our staff like slaves. They’re allowed proper bathroom breaks and to have items on their desks.”
Kenz had read all sorts of news reports about pregnant call center staff being refused bathroom breaks or being made to work back late to make up the two minutes they took over their allocated break time. Then there was another case where workers had their family photographs thrown in the trash because their desks were considered unprofessional or some such bullshit. The company she worked for expected staff to work damn hard, but management wasn’t unreasonable.
Asher grinned at her. “So if you aren’t standing outside the bathroom with a stopwatch timing people on break, what do you do?”