Victoria's Secret Wish

Victoria’s Secret Wish

By Piper Denna

Fantasies, Inc. Series, Book 2

Three isn’t always a crowd.

Erotica’s Sweethearts, Brett and Victoria Grant, are launching the Fantasies, Inc. Aphrodite—a cruiseliner dedicated to carnal pleasures. Since the voyage is all about fantasies coming true, Brett is determined to see Victoria realize her own wildest dream: having two men at once.

Victoria can barely keep her eyes—or hands—off gold medal swimmer David Roman when he boards the Aphrodite. And when Brett propositions David, she can’t say no. But Brett doesn’t know the extent of her fantasy. She wants him as into her other guy as she is. Will his adventurous spirit stretch that far?

David knows it’s a bad idea to get in the middle of the Grants’ marriage. He doesn’t have a kinky bone in his body—or so he thought before this trip—but the romps keep getting wilder and he keeps imagining more. And he really likes them both...as much in bed as out. If the paparazzi discover he’s involved with such a high-profile couple, his career is over. Is he willing to risk everything to continue?

WARNING: Adult sensuality and language, ménage a la two men bent on arousing their woman beyond all control, voyeurism, foot and hair fetish scenes, same sex situations, betrayal, and industrial espionage.

Private Desires

Copyright 2014 by Piper Denna

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover Art provided by Kim Killion, The Killion Group, Inc.

Edited by Mary Murray.

License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Dedication

For anyone who has ever considered going there.

Acknowledgements

To my friends—thanks to Kate, for being my beta reader,

and as always, Mary, for being the Very Best Editor Anywhere.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Coming soon

About Piper Denna

Chapter 1

Come join our crew!

We’re searching for uninhibited personnel to fill select crew positions on the Aphrodite’s maiden voyage, as well as subsequent cruises. Qualified applicants needed for all types of fetishes and scenarios, both mixed- and same-gender, adults of all ages, and walks of life. Crew staff will be eligible for cumulative discounts to be applied toward a future Fantasies, Inc. cruise.

Many of our privileged passengers have fantasies involving staff members, instead of or in addition to other erotic wishes. In return for your services eight hours per day, you’ll receive free passage on today’s most exclusive cruise liner, room, meals and drinks, and access to the crew-only Sweet Spot Lounge—where anything goes. Eager personnel can expect not only gratification, but tips in many forms…

Fantasy Crews make for Fantasy Cruises.

Please fill out the form below, and a discreet Human Resources Casting Expert will contact you shortly.

Thanks for your interest,

Fantasies, Inc.—Cruise Division

Where fulfillment is on your horizon

Victoria clicked the Save button and stretched her arms behind her head.

Ah. Now see, that’s what I’m talking about. Brett’s voice carried from the doorway between their offices. Reason Number Seven Hundred-fifty why you should work in the buff.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her arms down to her sides. Though fully clothed, the idea of baring herself in her office made her cheeks burn. God knew Britt had gotten her naked there and in his adjoining one enough times, but they’d been in the heat of passion, definitely not taking care of serious business. You’re a sex fiend.

Only for you, love. He wandered behind her, then leaned in to look over the text on her screen. Hmm. Think we’ll attract a bunch of horny cocktail waitresses and bellmen, then?

God, I hope so. She used extras at Fantasy Mountain, but they were unpaid, willing participants. If she’d registered her ship in the Netherlands, prostitution on it would be legal. In order to avoid the public hoopla that would cause, she’d opted to instead process volunteers. Bringing in people with their own fantasies will make it lots fresher, and not all of the staff will be newbies, so service shouldn’t suffer. Especially with the orientation and training we have planned.

He twined his fingers in a loose curl over her ear. "Maybe we should handpick a bellman to come and service you during the maiden voyage."

She shrugged away from his hand. Why, are you already tired of doing it? We’ve barely been married a year. Slacker.

Would you like it, though? He leaned closer. I know you’ve got to have some fantasies of your own running round that wild brain of yours. His lips tickled her ear. Maybe more than one bloke?

You Europeans and all your crazy ideas! Married people don’t do that sort of thing.

His low, sexy laugh gave her goosebumps, starting at her ear and running down her arms. While I adore our monogamy, Vic, I’ll not deny it’d turn me on to see you cut loose with a fantasy or two of your own. At least admit to having one.

How’d he manage to guess the truth? Well, she just wouldn’t think about it. They didn’t have time, and besides, it was just…wrong.

After all, he whispered, his breath in her ear causing her to shrug again. It’s our marriage, and we can bloody well do what we want with it.

What I want today is to go downstairs and work out. Yogi has me scheduled in twenty minutes. You in?

Not for bloody yoga, he grumbled. But I’d probably better hit the weights. His biceps flexed as he spoke. Poor Britt was predisposed toward being thin, and really had to work at keeping those muscles. Fine job he did with them, though. Shower back up here at the apartment?

Yes, and then it’s your night to cook.

Which means, I’m afraid, we’ll be ordering in.

She’d already guessed as much, since he hadn’t ordered them any groceries. When and if I ever conceive, the poor kid is going to come out half-baked from only eating off the carryout menu.

"Don’t say if. Of course we’ll conceive. And have a high time trying, right?" Cupping her breasts, he honed in on her nipples, rubbing them through layers of blouse and bra.

But what if they didn’t? What if she was damaged and could not conceive? What then? No mother in the world would let them adopt her baby, knowing they ran Fantasy Mountain—the hottest ticket in adult entertainment, but something of a black mark for prospective parents. Didn’t matter that they planned to move off-site when the baby came; to the rest of the world she was the Queen of Kink. Not Mommy Material.

Britt nibbled along her neck, and she gripped his hands, clung to them. I love you, Britt.

And I, you, he murmured. I’d much rather have a go than go workout. What do you say?

Yoga might help her chances of conceiving, but sex gave her better odds. Yogi can reschedule.

He lifted her into his arms and headed out of her office.

Oh my God! Let me walk. Someone’ll see. She wriggled, trying to get down.

Nobody comes down this end of the hall. He climbed the few stairs to their apartment. It’s a bloody sex resort we own and live at, in any case. Get the numbers for me, love.

She shook her head and keyed in their code on the number pad. True, the employees all knew they were married, but she had a hard time letting go of that tough professional exterior and behaving affectionately toward Britt in front of them.

Morty! Britt bellowed down the hall. Ring downstairs and let Yogi know Victoria’ll be along later for her yoga?

Straightaway, Morty called back.

Inside the apartment, their dog Jake snuffed at her dangling feet. Hi, Jake. Britt. He needs to go outside. Why don’t you do that, and I’ll—

Oh no. You won’t. I’ve already taken him out. He deposited her in a sitting position on the couch and commenced removing her blouse, then her bra. In far less time than it’d take her, he pulled all the pins from her hair and let it down. It sprang out in all directions, in undisciplined, poufy curls. He took one step back and ogled her like this was their first time. Be a love and stretch your arms over your head like you did at your desk.

She complied. The results weren’t bad—her breasts jutted forward. Under his stare, her nipples hardened and extended.

With a growl, he knelt on the floor in front of her and covered the right one with his mouth. Hot and silky, his tongue loved her nipple while one big hand kneaded her other breast, and he wrapped his free arm around her back, holding her tight.

She dug her fingers through his hair. God, she needed him. Even after thousands of times, she still needed him. Heat rushed through her body and she clenched her legs together, savoring the friction of movement in her panty.

With a small nip, he released her breast and kissed her mouth. Long, deep, full of want and promise. She could always count on it like this between them. Hot, yet full of as much feeling as need. She could kiss him like this for hours. Or…

Her hand slid down to grope his crotch. Hey. Get your pants off.

He smiled and that right dimple came out, which she thumbed while he unbuckled his belt and pushed the slacks, then boxers, away.

She gave him a gentle shove back. Have a seat. Now be a love and stretch your arms over your head. Surveying the results, she shook her head. Sorry, no. Not the same when you’ve got your shirt on. But it’ll have to do. The end of his dress shirt covered those abs she knew he worked so hard for. She knelt in front of him and pushed the shirt up.

As he began unbuttoning, she dragged her fingernails down both sides of his stomach, past his navel. On toward the dark thatch of hair. He sat stone-still, watching. Trying to make him squirm was her favorite game, and normally she’d keep teasing until she won. But today she wanted him faster than that. Today she wanted to taste him. Now.

Warm…firm… The size of his cock still sometimes surprised her. She tongued his crown, tasted salt, hummed her appreciation.

Vic. Ah, Christ. Britt moaned, and his thighs clenched under her hands.

She took more of him in her mouth as he burrowed his fingers into her hair and clasped her head. He was so into it, and obviously close. She bobbed up and down, opening to take as much of him as she could, loving the taste, the feel, the power. His balls were heavy in her hands, one a little tighter than the other. Easing her mouth off his cock, she shed her skirt and thong, leaving only the stockings he’d asked her to buy.

He eyed her. You could finish me off if you’d a mind to, love.

Poor guy wanted her to swallow. She nodded. I could. He’d been very close. Like sixty-seconds close. But that would be such a waste of perfectly good swimmers, no? She straddled him and he sighed. By the time she had him inside her, he didn’t seem to miss the blowjob anymore. He filled her completely, and she whimpered with joy, eased down him a bit more. His hands held her breasts, provided a little push as she pulsed up and down.

Touch yourself, love, he begged.

She slid her fingers down, found her slick clit. So sensitive, it wouldn’t take much—with a shudder, she pressed down on him, saw stars, heard him groan.

He thrust up into her and convulsed; she collapsed and held herself against him. Better to keep everything inside; less chance of anything good running out.

Are you holding me because your world is still rocking, or because you hope to hold my sperm captive?

She smiled against his chest. Both?

Another sigh, and he caressed her back. I love you.

I love you too. Hopefully this time would be the time. Britt had been a good sport about all the trying. Next time maybe she’d give him a proper finish to the blowjob. Maybe next time, she’d be pregnant.

Chapter 2

Thanks for agreeing to meet me here at the hotel, Dr. Weiss. Victoria offered her most professional smile and shook the other woman’s hand. I’m afraid certain paparazzi have staked me out at the airport here in Salt Lake. If I’d gone to your office from there, it would have been literally minutes before they released a story that my marriage is on the rocks.

I understand. The petite brunette offered a smile of her own and then a quick hug.

It’s not. On the rocks, I mean. In fact, Brett suggested I see you. I’ve never been, you know…to see a shrink. Therapist. Doctor. Well, a doctor, but just not—

Dr. Weiss chuckled. Relax, Victoria. And please, call me Serena. I think we’re on a little more intimate terms. After all, you arranged that cavewoman fantasy for my husband and me. Her entire face flamed, and she fanned herself with a room service menu. We’ve gotta do that again soon.

The good doc had taken three cavemen that night, and if Victoria recalled, the little mister had done some time on his knees as well.

Okay. Serena, then. Her hands seemed to flutter around on their own, first onto her hips, then to her sides as she hugged her arms to herself.

Shall we have a seat? Serena settled on the sofa and patted a spot next to her.

So this wasn’t going to be formal, like a TV therapy session. No notebook, no voice recorder. Victoria perched on the edge of a cushion and smoothed the wrinkles from her slacks. Um. And picked at loose lint. I do this, you know, try to clean and straighten everything when I’m nervous or stressed. Britt—that’s what I call Brett—says it’s cute, but I bet it’s just annoying after a while.

Why are you nervous? Is it because you’re seeing me, or because you’re seeing a therapist?

Therapist. As Britt had pointed out, seeing Serena Weiss would be less intimidating than any other therapist. After all, they’d watched from the AV room as Serena’s fantasy had been recorded. Having seen a woman go wild like that made her quite easy to approach. Aside from the therapist issue, anyway.

Serena merely raised one manicured brow. Go on. Ah, that active listening trick. Must be on the Head Shrinking 101 syllabus.

Might as well spill her guts. That’s what they were there for. We’ve been married for sixteen months now. Trying to conceive for about eighteen. She smoothed her slacks again, searched for lint. Stop looking like such a head case! Clasped her hands together. No luck so far.

More listening-face from Serena.

I realize this isn’t a crazy-long time to try. The thing is… I think it’s my fault we haven’t conceived. Britt said he wants someone to talk sense into me.

"Why don’t you start by explaining why you believe it’s your fault."

Here came the hard part. Hopefully she could get it all out so it’d make sense, without breaking down. I was pregnant when my first husband died. I miscarried while mourning. It was early, but still devastating. There. She’d spoken about losing Luke and the baby, and barely teared up. Time did heal wounds. After that I sort of shut myself off, told guys I couldn’t have children to keep them from getting serious. At one point had decided I wanted to be sterilized. I didn’t go through with it—thanks to some intervening loved ones.

So you didn’t want children? That eyebrow arched again.

I did. Great. Already she was botching up the story. But she needed to make Serena understand the past or she’d never understand the present. I just…feared losing someone again, and I was depressed, and then I wanted to just end it all… In retrospect, I probably should’ve seen a therapist before now.

Maybe. Serena tilted her head. Still, you seem to have recovered and found happiness. Yes?

Yes. Definitely. It’s just now…every month that goes by, if I don’t conceive, I have to wonder if it’s some sort of punishment. And then I know that doesn’t make sense, but I also know I’ve got to prove to myself and to Britt that I can have a baby. I can be a mother, despite what most of the world thinks of my career. And so I put this pressure on myself. I eat all the right things, and take all the right supplements. Exercise in a healthful, nurturing way…

Serena rubbed her glossy lips together and waited.

"Nothing. And I know stressing about it is what’s causing the problem. But I can’t seem to stop stressing. I think being so high-strung and stressed is what’s stopping us from conceiving. Which stresses me out even more. So that’s why it’s my fault."

And your husband wants me to tell you the stress isn’t the problem?

Yes.

I can’t do that. While it’s entirely possible there’s a physical problem—

There’s not. We’ve both been checked.

And I’m pretty sure you’re provided plenty of pregnancy-ops up there at Fantasy Mountain. Serena fanned herself again. My God, my poor husband would be in heaven if we lived there, because I’d be horny all the time. But back to the topic. Stress has been known to be a factor in fertility, or the lack thereof. Great. Not what she’d wanted to hear, although not exactly breaking news, either. Not that you can blame yourself for being stressed. Has your gynecologist suggested taking a break?

Victoria nodded. "He did suggest taking a vacation. It’s just not possible right now. Our cruise liner, Fantasies, Inc. Aphrodite, has its maiden voyage the fifth of next month. So we’ve been off-the-charts busy getting everything organized and launched. I’ve been interviewing about twenty people a day, besides setting up the usual fantasies at the mountain, flying back and forth to the ship at port in San Diego to check on progress..."

Serena leaned forward and took Victoria’s hands in her own. Whoa. You’ve got a lot on your plate.

Tell me about it.

"Look, I’m not a fertility specialist. But I do know when my cousin was trying to conceive, her doctor had her go back on The Pill for six months. And then when she went off, bammo! She was knocked up the first month."

Oh. Wow.

Serena nodded. Something about the hormones putting the cycles all back in sync. Like I said, I’m not an expert. But maybe you should ask your doctor about it.

Back on The Pill. No pressure to get pregnant… Thanks. I’ll definitely my gynecologist. Britt was so right about seeing you.

If I might make one other suggestion?

Mmm? Her mind was already on that phone call and which pharmacy to get her pills from.

While you’re on this break, give yourself a hall pass. Do some wild, sexy stuff. Nothing can kill the fun of sex like making it a means to a baby. Besides, one day you’ll be prego, and then a mom. And let me tell ya, that living-in-the-moment business doesn’t happen much for us mommies.

Wild, sexy stuff. Like what? Britt’s idea of sharing her with another man on the cruise? Now she was probably the one blushing. "Um. Yeah. Even though I arrange all those fantasies, I’m pretty