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  Eyes twinkling, he scoffed, shaking his head. "You're really living up to your naughty girl title right now. You're trying to be a little rule breaker only a minute-and-a-half in."

  "Well, so what? Let's just forget about all the rules. I just want you and Nick to touch me down lower right now."

  Moving his massaging hands to my upper chest, Blaine glanced over at Nick. "What do you think? Should we let her break the rules?"

  I turned my face to look at Nick. "Yes."

  Moving his hands to my left ribs, Nick shook his head at me. "No. You're locked in, Eva. Ten minutes. That's what you said.”

  I turned my face back to Blaine. "Don't be like him. Just move your hands a lot lower. Between my legs. Please."

  Moving his slick hands to my right rib, Blaine shook his head. "Ain't gonna happen. And to show you that me and Nick are serious, I think we're going to have to start issuing you a punishment each time you tell us or ask us to touch you lower before the ten minutes is up."

  Something about his husky, gravelly voice, combined with what he'd just said, made my tingling sensitive spot begin to outright throb. And when I spoke, my voice came out in a breathy near-whisper.

  "Well, what will the punishment be for each time I tell or ask?"

  Blaine didn't even hesitate. "The punishment will be three sharp swats on your sexy little rear cheeks. Each and every time. And I did say sharp swats. Not pats. So, think carefully before you ask again. Because now you know what's going to come after."

  I had to know if he was being serious or not. Just had to.

  So, somewhat in disbelief about what I was doing, I spoke in a breathy near-whisper once again, looking right into Blaine's eyes. "Touch me lower, Blaine. Between my legs."

  With a little smirk, making me think that he'd expected me to say what I had right away, he lowered his mouth to speak near my ear. "All right, Eva. You earned this. Naughty girl."

  With that, he gently but swiftly rolled me on my side, to face Nick, and immediately delivered three sharp swats to my right rear cheek with his hand even harder than I thought it would be. However, I found that I hadn't exactly minded. Not in the least, especially since I'd had a good view of Nick's rock-hard shaft while I'd been receiving my swats.

  Panting, I lifted my gaze to Nick's face, eager to see if he might issue me punishment, too. "Please touch me, Nick. Please."

  Doing exactly what Blaine had done, Nick rolled me onto my side with his breathing fast and ragged, then delivered three swats to my left cheek with his hand even harder than Blaine's had been. Wincing, I'd gasped with each swat, though all the while feeling so much slickness seeping from my feminine lips that I was becoming drenched.

  My sensitive spot was also throbbing in a way I'd never even felt it before, making me feel almost desperate with urgent need. And it was this urgent, desperate throbbing that seemed to make me suddenly desire something I'd never really desired in my life. I wanted to taste Nick and Blaine, wanted to feel their hard members with my tongue. And, being that Blaine's rock-hard shaft was just inches away from my face, I figured I'd start with him.

  "Please let me taste you with my tongue without punishment. Please just let me."

  I didn't have to ask him a third time. He'd already moved himself closer to me before I'd even finished asking again.

  Really not having a clue what I was doing but far, far too turned on to care, I took Blaine's thick pole in one hand and tentatively began flicking my tongue over the head, immediately making him groan. Encouraged that I was doing something right, I continued, flicking my tongue a little faster, discovering that I really liked what I was doing. However, now it was my turn to tease Blaine the same way he'd been teasing me by refusing to touch me.

  After maybe a half-minute of making him growl and groan, I lifted my face, releasing his shaft at the same time. "Now, please touch me, Blaine."

  Having been hoping that he hadn't abandoned his punishment plan, I wasn't disappointed, soon feeling the crack of his hard hand against my right rear cheek, with each swat causing just enough stinging to make me squirm a little, gasping.

  Now I was facing Nick, and eager to once again feel the head of a hard shaft with my tongue. This time, though, I wasn't just content to use my tongue alone. After a short while of flicking my tongue across the head of Nick's member, making him groan, I flicked my tongue up and down the length of his pole before finally taking it in my mouth, working my lips up and down the first couple of inches.

  Growling, Nick wrapped my long hair around his fist to gently keep my head in place, clearly enjoying what I was doing.

  The three of us continued our punishment-pleasure game for several more minutes, until my rear was just about blazing, and until Nick and Blaine were really, really not wanting me to lift my face from their granite-hard shafts each time I did.

  I myself had become so desperate for release that if someone didn't touch me between my legs soon, I was going to have to do it myself. Fortunately, I just happened to catch sight of the clock, seeing that my ten minutes was up. And actually, fourteen minutes had gone by.

  "Do the two of you see the clock? It's my turn now."

  *

  Almost before I'd even finished speaking, Nick was between my legs. Or, his head was, to be precise. Tangling my fingers in his thick, dark hair, I pulled his face, and mouth, to the source of my urgent need. Normally, when my mind would wander to thoughts of such activities, I liked the idea of maybe working up to things with some tender kisses along my inner thighs; but at this particular time, I wasn't interested in tender kisses at all. I was too desperate, feeling nearly wild in my desire for release.

  The moment I felt Nick's tongue connect with my throbbing spot, I cried out, grinding my head into the stack of pillows behind me. And soon, I was borderline-grinding something else against Nick's mouth as he flicked his tongue from side to side rapidly, clutching my hips in his arms.

  Seeming to want to prolong my pleasure, Nick and Blaine took turns giving me this most intimate of carnal pleasures, letting me cool down for a few seconds while they switched places. However, after each had given me a few rounds of attention, making me writhe and moan, I realized that my pleasure was heading toward a peak, and I wanted to reach that peak with one of them filling me.

  I had an idea that with as drenched in slickness as I was, and as thoroughly worked up as I already was, the sensation of a man making love to me, even a larger-than-average man like Blaine or Nick, wasn't going to hurt this time.

  Since Nick was moving to position himself between my legs again currently, he was the one whose shoulder I grabbed.

  "Please, Nick. I want to feel you inside of me right now."

  With a low growl, he moved to cover my body with his own, gently parting my legs while he did so. So eager to feel his hardness that I didn't even want to wait for him to position the head of his shaft himself, I took it in my hand and guided it to my entrance, telling him that I was ready.

  Within a second or two, groaning, he began sliding his thick shaft into my depths slowly, gazing at my face, as if on alert for any sign he was causing me pain. He wasn't at all, though, and I moaned with pure pleasure while he filled me inch by rock-hard inch, until he'd buried his entire pole inside of me.

  After a few moments spent caressing the side of my face, saying he loved me, which allowed me to fully get used to his hardness and size, he began slowly thrusting, again seeming to be on alert for any sign he was causing me pain.

  But also again, he wasn't at all, and I was pretty sure he was seeing nothing but rapture on my face, because that's what I was feeling each time he slid back into my slick depths, filling me completely.

  Beside us, Blaine was on his side, watching my face while very slowly stroking his pole with occasional grunts and quiet groans. Nick was making a few noises of his own, as was I, telling him that he felt so good. With this seeming to encourage him or give him some kind of a green light, he began thrusting a bit faster, making
me moan, gripping his hips.

  A while later, he pulled my legs up on his shoulders and began thrusting a little faster still, and I suddenly knew I wasn't going to last much longer. His long yet fast strokes just simply felt too good.

  And probably not half a minute after he'd pulled my legs up, I began crying out while mind-shattering pleasure began crashing over me in waves so powerful they made me buck my hips, realizing that I'd probably actually never had a real orgasm in my life, and if I had, they'd been very weak ones. Nothing like this.

  Around the same time that I was crying out with my peak, Nick reached his as well, thrusting into my slickness the hardest and fastest he had yet, grunting.

  When he rolled off me, breath coming in ragged gasps, I turned my face to look at Blaine, panting. "Now I want you to make me feel that good, too."

  Within about five seconds, I found myself positioned on all fours while Blaine slid into my depths from behind, making me cry out the word yes. He felt so incredibly good, as did my naughty girl positioning, though soon, when he began moving inside of me, things began to feel even better still.

  Not that I had anything to compare it to, because I'd never received a partner from behind before, but Blaine had a way of making love in this position that struck me as just downright dirty, in the very best possible way.

  Feeling to me as if he wasn't just thrusting in and out but also somehow moving his hips and his manhood in a circle as well, I'd never dreamed that lovemaking in this position could feel so utterly amazing. And so wonderfully filthy. Though maybe I shouldn't have been surprised since the husband currently making love to me was quite a dirty mud bucket. Every now and then while he made love to me, Blaine gave one of my rear cheeks a little swat with a medium-hard hand, as if just wanting to remind me that I had a husband who had no problems meting out punishment. I loved it.

  Even though it was my second, I reached orgasm with him a bit quicker than I had with Nick, burying my face in the pillows, moaning, while Blaine growled out his own release behind me.

  When we both collapsed on the bed, side by side, I found that Nick was already becoming hard again beside me, slowly stroking his pole while gazing at me with his breathing accelerating. And though I probably would have considered myself completely satisfied otherwise and would have probably soon drifted off to sleep, I found the sight of his hand around his stiffening shaft to be such an erotic one that I almost immediately became a little worked up again.

  By the time I did finally fall asleep that night, more profoundly satisfied than I'd ever dreamed was possible, I'd tied Tracy's record, having had my "bell rung" no fewer than three times. And I'd gotten the feeling that Nick and Blaine would have been very glad to ring my bell once more had I not started to get so tired. I'd come to learn very well that shifter desire and stamina was no joke.

  For the next two weeks, each day dawned sunny and bright, matching the mood in the house. No one borderline slammed coffee mugs on the counter anymore. No one bristled because of light contact made during hugs. I was happy. Nick and Blaine seemed happy. Sometimes I even wondered if I was the happiest I'd ever been in my life, despite currently living in a post-apocalyptic world.

  However, two weeks to the day of our marriage, it stormed all morning and afternoon, keeping me inside when I'd been planning to spend the day working on an outdoor project with Tracy and two other women named Lily and Marie. Over lunch at Tracy's the day before, the four of us had been lamenting about the fact that that we'd all lost so many loved ones since the virus had hit, but we didn't have any physical place to "visit" our loved ones and periodically pay respects, like a graveyard or even a location where ashes had been scattered.

  After we'd all discussed a few ideas, I'd come up with the idea to create a "memorial rock garden" across from the community vegetable garden. We'd use masonry tools to carve the name of a loved one, or a symbol or picture that brought them to mind, in large rocks that could be found in different places in the village.

  Then, we'd "plant" the rocks in the garden, planting various wildflowers among them as well. Anyone in the community who wanted memorial rocks to honor their lost loved ones could either make them themselves, or Tracy, Lily, Marie, and I would make their rocks for them.

  I loved the idea of "planting" rocks for Jessica and Ebony, Sandor and Marta, and also my parents, even though they'd died long before the apocalypse had hit, and even though they did have physical graves back in Michigan. Of course, the apocalypse had made it so that I couldn't visit those graves.

  I'd have to wait to collect rocks and get started on my big project idea until the storms passed, though. In the meantime, I decided to spend the afternoon baking cookies to bring to a woman named Melissa, who'd just given birth to a prized baby girl five days earlier.

  However, having to use a mix of rice flour and oat flour since there was a community shortage of wheat flour, I had to experiment with the cookie recipe a little, and the first batch was absolutely horrible, both in look and taste. The second batch I made, this one with oat flour only, I burned when a visit to the bathroom prevented me from hearing the oven timer. After that, I decided to just quit wasting food supplies, giving up on the cookie idea.

  Instead, I decided to bring Melissa a half-pound of honey-flavored hard candies from a batch I'd made a week before, tinting them pink and yellow with food coloring and wrapping them individually in plastic wrap. After packing them in a cute little straw basket I'd found in the storage closet, off I went to Melissa's house.

  However, despite the fact that I was carrying an umbrella, the pouring rain dampened the fragile basket along the way; when I was nearly there, the handle broke, and all the candies fell into a mud puddle several inches deep. Cursing, I wadded the little basket into a ball and jammed it in my pocket.

  Embarrassed to be visiting Melissa without a gift, I sheepishly told her about my difficulties, promising to babysit her precious new flaxen-haired baby, Laurel, any time she wanted me to, no matter how far in the future. Melissa said that was a wonderful gift, making me feel better, but then when I left her house, I promptly slipped in mud, kind of funny for a former Olympic figure skater who'd only rarely slipped on ice; I ruined a pair of very nice white Capri pants I'd just gotten at the community "clothes closet" the day before.

  When Nick and Blaine came home for dinner that evening, the day got significantly worse. Right away, I could tell they were both troubled by something, and I asked them what was wrong almost the second they stepped in the door, both of them with soaking wet wet hair and clothes.

  Frowning, Nick took my hands and gave me a brief kiss. "Let Blaine and me get dried off quickly, and then why don't the three of us sit down. We need to talk."

  *

  Although what Nick had said alarmed me, to say the least, he and Blaine were just soaked to the bone, dripping on the hardwood floor; I wanted them to get dried off and warmed up so that they could be comfortable while the three of us talked about whatever it was we needed to talk about.

  "Why don't the two of you go take hot showers, and then we can talk out in the living room."

  I'd learned that the three of us trying to talk about anything of importance in our bedroom usually didn't work.

  Nick and Blaine both agreed, kicked off their heavy boots, and each gave me a quick kiss before trudging upstairs, one right after the other, leaving me to wonder what had them both in such a serious, glum mood.

  I had a guess what it might be, though I hoped I was wrong. After the most recent fight with the dozen or so Borderline shifters that Nick and Blaine's men had spotted not a half-mile from the village walls, not a single Borderliner had been spotted anywhere in the area, which was odd. Usually, there was some kind of "Borderliner trouble" at least every couple of days. Some people in the village, including Tracy and Chris, thought that Wesley Archer had finally abandoned his plans to push his mob-style extortion practices into Kentucky. After all, he'd had to retreat with his shifters the first time h
e'd attacked Helena, and many of his men had been killed.

  Then, he'd lost three additional men in the recent fight that had taken place beyond the village walls. During that fight, all Helenian shifters had survived, sending a clear message to Wesley about the strength of our army.

  I knew better than to think he'd just given up, though. I knew better than to think that fate was just going to let me have my happily-ever-after, or whatever semblance of a happily-ever-after a person could have post-apocalypse, with Blaine and Nick. I also knew better than to think an apparent psychopath like Wesley Archer would just throw in the towel after a few defeats,

  not with such a wealth of food, machinery, and women in Helena on the line. There would be more attacks coming, more turmoil. I could almost feel it.

  Though we hadn't really discussed the Borderliner issue much, I got the impression that Nick and Blaine felt the same way I did, and they knew more trouble was coming. So, based on the grim looks on their faces when they'd walked through the door, I had a little idea that they might have learned something that day about Wesley Archer's future plans.