We're a week into our month long anniversary trip to Barbados, and most of our journey has been spent with Jamal pushing my limits as his submissive in public.

Right now, Jamal has me bent over the balcony railing of our beachfront suite, my sundress hiked up around my waist as he grips my hips roughly. The ocean breeze kisses my exposed skin while his thick length drives into me relentlessly.

"Anyone could see us," I gasp, the thrill of potential discovery only heightening my pleasure.

"Let them watch," he growls, one hand sliding up to grasp my breast through the thin fabric. "I want everyone to know you're mine."

My fingers tighten around the railing as he increases his pace, the sound of our bodies slapping together mixing with the distant crash of waves. I feel myself approaching climax, my inner walls clenching around him.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, reaching around to circle my clit with practiced fingers. "Come for me."

I explode in ecstasy, my entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through me. My scream echoes across the beach as my release triggers Jamal's. He buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me with his hot seed.

"Fuck, Naomi," he pants against my neck, his teeth grazing my sensitive skin.

The sliding door behind us suddenly opens with a whoosh. I freeze, still impaled on Jamal's thickness.

"Room service!" a cheerful voice calls out before a shocked gasp follows.

The young hotel employee stands transfixed, holding a tray of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries. His eyes widen as they travel over our joined bodies.

Instead of embarrassment, a wicked thrill courses through me. Jamal doesn't pull out. Instead, he resumes thrusting his hips in slow, deliberate movements.

"Join us," I purr, shocking myself with my boldness. The waiter, his nametag reads Miguel, stands frozen, his mouth agape.

Jamal's fingers dig into my hips. "You heard my wife," he says, voice thick with lust. "Put the tray down and lock the door."

Miguel hesitates only briefly before placing the champagne on the nearby table. The click of the door lock sends a fresh wave of arousal through me. I've never done anything like this before, but the Caribbean heat seems to have unleashed something primal within me.

"I... I could lose my job," Miguel stammers, but his growing bulge betrays his interest.

"We'll make it worth your while," Jamal says, pulling me upright against his chest, still buried inside me. "Show him how badly you want him to join us."

I reach out my hand to Miguel, my eyes heavy with desire. Without hesitation, he approaches, drawn by some magnetic pull. His tanned fingers tremble slightly as they make contact with mine. I guide his hand to my breast, moaning as he tentatively squeezes.

"That's it," I encourage, my voice husky with need.

Miguel's confidence grows. He leans forward, capturing my lips in a hungry kiss while Jamal continues his slow, deep thrusts from behind. The sensation of being filled by one man while another devours my mouth is intoxicating.

I break the kiss to help Miguel with his uniform buttons. Soon, his shirt falls to the floor, revealing a lean, muscled torso. Jamal reaches around me to unbuckle Miguel's belt, freeing his impressive erection.

"Kneel," Jamal commands, his voice deep with authority.

I sink to my knees, eagerly taking Miguel into my mouth while Jamal positions himself behind me again. The cool tile against my knees contrasts with the heat coursing through my body as I taste the salt of Miguel's skin on my tongue.

"Dios mío," Miguel groans, his fingers tangling in my hair as I take him deeper.

Jamal's hands grip my ass cheeks, spreading them wide before plunging back into my dripping core. The dual penetration—Miguel in my mouth and Jamal in my pussy—sends me spiraling toward another climax.

"She's so fucking wet," Jamal tells Miguel, his voice strained with pleasure. "You should feel how tight she is."

Miguel's hips begin thrusting gently, matching Jamal's rhythm until I'm being rocked between them in perfect synchrony. I'm delirious with pleasure, my muffled moans vibrating around Miguel's shaft as Jamal hits that perfect spot inside me.

"Switch," Jamal orders suddenly, withdrawing from me. The emptiness is momentary as he guides me to stand and bend over the nearby couch. Miguel quickly positions himself behind me, his thickness stretching me in a deliciously different way. He enters me with a groan, his hands gripping my waist reverently.

"So beautiful," he whispers in a heavy accent, beginning to thrust.

Jamal stands before me, his glistening cock level with my face. I eagerly take him into my mouth, tasting my arousal on his skin. The knowledge that a stranger is filling me while my husband watches sends a forbidden thrill through me.

"That's it, fuck my wife," Jamal encourages, his eyes dark with lust as he watches another man take me.

Miguel's thrusts become more confident, his hands exploring my body with increasing boldness. He reaches around to stroke my clit, and I moan around Jamal's shaft, the vibrations making him curse and grip my hair tighter.

"I want to see us both inside her," Miguel suggests suddenly, his voice thick with desire.

My body trembles at the suggestion. We've talked about double penetration before, but never actually done it. The thought of being so filled makes me clench around Miguel, drawing a groan from him.

"Is that what you want, baby?" Jamal asks, pulling out of my mouth so I can answer.

"Yes," I gasp, beyond shame or hesitation now. "Please, both of you."

They position me on the bed, Miguel lying on his back while

I straddle him, sliding down his length with a moan as Jamal positions himself behind me. Miguel's hands cup my breasts, thumbs circling my hardened nipples as I lean forward slightly.

"Relax," Jamal whispers, his lips against my ear as his lubricated finger circles my back entrance. The initial pressure makes me gasp, but I push back against him, wanting more.

Slowly, he works me open, one finger becoming two as Miguel continues thrusting up into me. The dual sensations have me trembling, hovering on the edge of climax already.

"Ready?" Jamal asks, his voice strained with restraint.

"Yes," I breathe, my body on fire with need.

I feel the blunt pressure of his cock against my tight hole, the slow, burning stretch as he pushes inside. Pain and pleasure blend into

something entirely new as my body stretches to accommodate both men. For a moment, we're all still, my breath coming in short gasps as I adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

"Oh god," I whimper, feeling impossibly stretched and filled beyond what I thought possible.

"You okay?" Jamal asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

I nod, unable to form words as pleasure begins to override discomfort. Experimentally, I rock my hips, drawing twin groans from both men. The sensation of their cocks separated by only a thin membrane inside me is unlike anything I've ever experienced.

"So tight," Miguel gasps beneath me, his fingers digging into my thighs.

They begin to move in tandem, establishing a rhythm that has me seeing stars. When one pulls back, the other thrusts forward, ensuring I'm never empty. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, and I feel my orgasm building with shocking intensity.

"Oh god, I'm going to—" I can't even finish my sentence as pleasure detonates through me, more potent than anything I've ever felt. My body clamps down on both of them, triggering Miguel's release. He thrusts upward wildly, crying out in Spanish as he empties himself inside me.

Jamal continues pounding into me from behind, his grip bruising on my hips as he chases his climax. The sensation of Miguel's hot seed filling me while Jamal continues fucking my ass is deliciously filthy.

"Fuck, baby, I'm coming," Jamal groans, slamming into me one final time before I feel the hot pulse of his release.

For several moments, we remain locked together, our bodies slick with sweat and a sense of satisfaction. Eventually, they slowly disentangle, our bodies glistening with sweat in the warm Caribbean air. We collapse onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, catching our breath. Miguel looks at us with a mixture of satisfaction and uncertainty.

"That was..." he trails off, searching for words.

"Incredible," I finish for him, my voice hoarse.

Jamal pulls me against his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. "Stay for a drink," he tells Miguel, nodding toward the champagne.

Miguel smiles, his earlier nervousness replaced by comfortable familiarity. "I have thirty minutes before my shift ends."

I watch him pour three glasses of champagne, admiring his naked form. As he hands me a glass, his fingers brush mine deliberately. The spark between us hasn't diminished.

"I've never done anything like this," Miguel admits, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I always fantasized about something like this, but never thought..."

"Life is full of surprises," Jamal says, raising his glass in a toast. "To new experiences."

We clink glasses and sip the bubbly champagne. The cold liquid contrasts with the heat still radiating from my body. I can feel both men's releases trickling down my thighs, a deliciously filthy reminder of what we've just done.

Miguel's eyes travel over my body again, his cock already beginning to stir. "I think I might have more time than I thought," he says, his voice dropping an octave.

Jamal notices his renewed interest and smirks. "Seems like our new friend isn't satisfied yet."

I set my champagne down and crawl across the bed toward Miguel, feeling both men's eyes on me. "Maybe we should try something different this time," I purr. Without warning, I straddle Miguel's face, lowering my dripping sex to his eager mouth. He groans against me, his tongue immediately seeking out my sensitive flesh, lapping hungrily at the mixture of his and Jamal's releases that leak from me.

What surprises me is Miguel's sudden shift in demeanor. His hands grasp my thighs firmly, controlling my movements rather than submitting to them. His tongue works deliberately, with practiced precision rather than eager enthusiasm.

"Stay still," he commands against my flesh, the vibration of his words sending shivers through me.

I glance back at Jamal, expecting jealousy, but find only arousal and approval in his eyes. Miguel's hands tighten on my thighs, restraining me when I try to grind against his face.

"I said stay still," he repeats, a new authority in his voice that makes me instantly obey. "Good girl."

Jamal chuckles, sliding behind me to cup my breasts. "I should have mentioned," he whispers in my ear, "Miguel isn't just a hotel employee. He's well-known in certain circles here."

"Wait, what?" I freeze, suddenly connecting the dots. The masterful way Miguel had taken control, his practiced movements—it all made sense now.

"You didn't think I'd let just anyone join us, did you?" Jamal grins, his hand sliding down my back possessively. "Miguel runs the most exclusive BDSM club on the island. We've been planning this little surprise for months."

Miguel's tongue continues its relentless assault on my clit, but his eyes lock with mine, dark with dominance. When he finally releases my thighs, he slides out from under me with the smooth confidence of a predator.

"Your husband told me you've been curious about experiencing multiple Doms," Miguel says, his accent thicker with arousal. "That you fantasize about being controlled by more than one man at once."

Heat floods my cheeks. Those whispered confessions our bedroom, shared only with Jamal—or so I had thought. My mouth goes dry as I realize my husband has shared my deepest desires with this stranger. Not a stranger now, I suppose.

"Is that true, Naomi?" Miguel asks, his voice commanding an answer.

I nod, unable to form words.

"Use your voice," he commands, a sharp contrast to his earlier servile demeanor.

"Yes," I whisper. "It's true."

Jamal's arms encircle me from behind, his lips brushing my ear. "Five years of marriage, and I still find ways to surprise you," he murmurs. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Miguel retrieves something from his discarded uniform pants—a sleek black collar with a small silver lock. "Your husband commissioned this specially," he explains, holding it up so the Caribbean sunlight catches the engraving.

I can see the script in the silver. My name alongside Jamal's. The small diamond-studded heart nestled between our engraved names glints in the light.

"May I?" Miguel asks, his tone making it clear it's not a question.

I nod, tilting my chin up as he fastens the collar around my neck. The leather is butter-soft against my skin, its weight immediately centering me. The small click of the lock sliding into place sends a shiver down my spine.

"Beautiful," Jamal murmurs, his fingers tracing the collar's edge. "Now you're wearing my claim for all to see."

Miguel steps back, admiring me. "The rules are simple," he says, his voice taking on a clinical edge that somehow makes this more erotic. "When you wear this collar, you belong to both of us. You will address me as 'Sir' and Jamal as 'Master.' Tonight, we begin your training in earnest—but first, we need to establish boundaries."

Jamal guides me to sit between them on the bed. "Color system," he explains. "Green means continue, yellow means slow down, red means stop everything immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master," I reply, the familiar term of respect falling easily from my lips. I turn to Miguel. "Yes, Sir."

Miguel's smile is predatory. "Very good. Now, what are your hard limits?"

I consider this carefully. "Blood play, extreme pain, and anything involving other women."

Jamal nods approvingly. "And your fantasies? What have you been too shy to ask for?"

Heat floods my cheeks again. "Being... restrained while both of you use me. Being made to perform for an audience."

Miguel and Jamal exchange knowing glances.

"Perfect timing," Miguel says, reaching for his phone. "I need to make a quick call."

While Miguel steps away, Jamal pulls me into his lap, his hand possessively wrapped around my throat just above the collar.

"You've exceeded every expectation, my love," he murmurs against my ear. "Tonight is just the beginning. I've invited someone else to join us tomorrow—someone who shares our particular interests."

My pulse quickens beneath his fingers. "Another Dom?"

"Yes. Andre's been my friend since college. He's been curious about you for years." Jamal's teeth graze my earlobe. "I've shown him photos of you, told him how beautifully you submit. He's been very patient waiting for this opportunity."

The thought of being shared with yet another Dom—one who has apparently fantasized about me—sends a fresh wave of desire through me. My thighs clench involuntarily.

"Will I please all of you at once?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jamal's grip tightens. "Eventually. First, we'll each take turns showing the others how we prefer to dominate you. Miguel has his specialties, and Andre has his. I want to see you submit to their methods while I watch."

Miguel returns, pocketing his phone with a satisfied expression. "Everything is arranged for tomorrow evening. Andre's flight lands at noon."

"You've met Andre?" I ask, surprised at the apparent coordination between them.

"Of course," Miguel chuckles. "Your husband is quite thorough in his planning. We've been corresponding for months to ensure this anniversary gift was perfect."

Jamal's hands slide down to pinch my nipples, drawing a gasp from my body. "Tonight, you belong to us both. Tomorrow, you'll serve three Masters."

The thought sends a rush of wetness between my thighs. Jamal notices, sliding his fingers through my folds.

"Already so eager," he comments, showing his glistening fingers to Miguel.

Miguel's eyes darken. "On your knees," he commands.

I slide from Jamal's lap to the floor, assuming the position I've been trained to take—knees spread, back straight, hands resting palms-up on my thighs. The plush carpet cushions my knees as I bow my head submissively.

"She's well-trained," Miguel observes, circling me like a predator. "But I wonder how she handles discipline."

Jamal leans back against the headboard. "Show me your methods."

Miguel retrieves his belt from his discarded clothing, folding it with deliberate care. "Stand up," he orders.

I rise to my feet, maintaining proper posture—shoulders back, chest out, stomach in. My eyes remain downcast until Miguel's fingers grasp my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Bend over the table," he instructs, nodding toward the glass-topped dining table near the balcony doors.

I comply, positioning myself with my breasts pressed against the cool glass, my ass presented to both men. The ocean breeze caresses my exposed skin as Miguel runs the leather belt along my spine.

"Ten strikes," he announces. "You will count each one and thank me after. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," I respond, my voice already breathy with anticipation.

The first strike lands with a sharp crack, the sting spreading across my right cheek like wildfire. "One,"

"One, thank you, Sir," I gasp, my body shuddering from the impact.

The belt whistles through the air again, landing precisely on my left cheek with equal force. "Two, thank you, Sir."

Each strike is methodical, alternating cheeks with expert precision. By the fifth strike, I'm moaning as much from pleasure as from pain, the heat in my backside spreading to my core. Miguel notices the wetness gathering between my thighs.

"Your submissive enjoys punishment, Jamal," he observes, pausing to run his fingers through my slickness.

"Always has," Jamal replies from where he watches, stroking himself lazily. "Continue."

The remaining strikes come faster, harder, until I'm crying out, my fingers gripping the edge of the table desperately. "Ten, thank you, Sir!" My voice breaks on the final count

Miguel steps back, admiring his handiwork as my ass glows crimson from his punishment. He runs a soothing hand over the heated flesh, drawing a whimper from my lips.

"Stand up and turn around," he commands.

I obey, my legs trembling slightly as I face him. The collar feels heavy around my neck, a constant reminder of my submission to both men in the room.

"She's magnificent," Miguel says to Jamal, his eyes never leaving mine. "I can see why you're so proud of her."

Jamal approaches, wrapping an arm around my waist. "She's exceeded every expectation since the day I collared her." His fingers trace the outline of my collar lovingly. "Five years of marriage, and she still surprises me."

The tenderness in his voice fills my heart with warmth. Despite the carnal nature of our arrangement, the love between Jamal and me forms the foundation for everything we do.

"Kneel," Miguel commands, and I sink gracefully to my knees before both men. "Open."

I part my lips obediently as Miguel guides his hardening length into my mouth. Jamal stands beside him, both men towering over me as I service Miguel with practiced skill.

"She's an expert with her mouth," Jamal tells Miguel, running his fingers through my hair. "But there's something special about watching another man use what belongs to me."

Miguel groans as I take him deeper. "You've trained her well."

Jamal's phone chimes with a message. He checks it, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Andre's flight landed early. He's on his way from the airport."

Miguel pulls out of my mouth, leaving me panting. "Perfect timing. We should prepare her for his arrival," he says, his dominant demeanor returning. "Jamal, do you have the restraints?"

"In the black case by the bed," Jamal answers, stroking himself as he watches me on my knees.

Miguel retrieves a collection of leather cuffs and silken ropes from the case, examining them with approval. "These will do nicely. On the bed, hands above your head."

I climb onto the king-sized bed, positioning myself as instructed. Jamal secures my wrists to the headboard with practiced efficiency while Miguel binds my ankles, spreading them wide and securing them to the bedposts. The position leaves me completely exposed and vulnerable, unable to close my legs or cover myself.

"Perfect," Jamal murmurs, running his hand along my inner thigh. "Andre will appreciate this presentation."

"How long have you known Andre?" I ask, my curiosity piqued despite my compromised position.

"Since college," Jamal replies, trailing his fingers between my breasts. "He was always fascinated by my lifestyle, but it wasn't until after our wedding that he expressed interest in joining us someday."

"And you've been planning this for how long?" I pull slightly against my restraints, testing their strength.

Miguel chuckles, tightening one of the ankle cuffs. "Your husband contacted me about three months ago. The Caribbean is my territory—I arrange special experiences for discerning couples."

Jamal's hand slides between my thighs, fingers parting my folds. "I wanted our fifth anniversary to be unforgettable."

"Mission accomplished," I gasp as his thumb circles my clit.

A knock at the door interrupts us. Jamal and Miguel exchange knowing looks.

"That must be Andre," Jamal says, his voice thick with anticipation. "Stay exactly as you are."

I strain against my restraints, heart pounding as Miguel wraps a silk blindfold around my eyes, plunging me into darkness. The sensory deprivation heightens every sound—the soft padding of feet across carpet, the click of the door, the low murmur of male voices in greeting.

"She's everything you described," comes a new voice, deep and accented—French, perhaps. "Magnifique."

"Andre," Jamal says, "meet my wife, Naomi. Naomi, this is Andre."

"Hello, pet," Andre purrs, his voice closer now. I feel the bed dip as someone sits beside me. A new hand—larger than Jamal's, with rough calluses—traces my collarbone, lingering on the collar. "Your husband has told me so much about you. I've waited a long time for this moment."

His accent caresses each word, making them sound like poetry. I feel the warmth of his breath against my neck as he leans closer, inhaling deeply.

"She smells divine," Andre comments to the others. "Like honey and sex."

"Wait until you taste her," Miguel says, his voice coming from the foot of the bed.

I shiver at their casual discussion of me, as if I'm a delicacy they're about to share. The blindfold intensifies every sensation—the gentle brush of fingers across my nipples, a hand resting possessively on my inner thigh, the unmistakable heat of a body hovering over mine.

"Who shall have her first?" Andre asks, his fingers tracing lazy circles around my breast.

"You're our guest, Andre," Jamal says. "You should have the honor."

I hear the rustle of clothing, feel the mattress shift as bodies reposition around me. The anticipation builds with each passing second, my breath quickening in the darkness behind my blindfold.

"I want to see her eyes when I take her," Andre says, fingers working at my blindfold until it falls away.

I blink against the sudden light, my eyes adjusting to find three men surrounding me. Jamal and Miguel I recognize, but the third—Andre—takes my breath away. Tall and broad-shouldered with olive skin and piercing green eyes, his dark hair peppered with distinguished gray at the temples. A neatly trimmed beard frames full lips curved into a predatory smile.

"Bonjour, ma chérie," he purrs, his gaze traveling hungrily over my restrained body. His body is magnificent—sculpted muscle covered in smooth skin, with an impressive erection standing proudly between powerful thighs.

"She's even more beautiful than your photos suggested," Andre says to Jamal, running a finger along my jawline. "I can see why you guard this treasure so carefully."

Miguel positions himself at the head of the bed, his hands massaging my shoulders while Jamal and Andre stand at the foot, admiring the view.

"The rules," Jamal reminds everyone. "Color system. Naomi can stop anything at any time. Andre, she'll address you as 'Monsieur'."

Andre nods, his eyes never leaving mine. "I understand completely." He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between my spread legs. His hands, large and warm, slide up my thighs with reverent slowness. "I've dreamed of this moment for years," he murmurs, leaning down to place a kiss on my inner thigh.

His beard tickles my sensitive skin as he works his way higher, his breath hot against my center. When his tongue finally makes contact with my clit, I arch off the bed as much as my restraints allow, a cry escaping my lips.

"She's responsive," Andre comments, looking up at Jamal with approval. "I like that."

Miguel's hands move from my shoulders to my breasts, pinching my nipples in time with Andre's licks. The dual sensation has me writhing against my bonds, desperate for more.

"Please," I whimper, not even sure what I'm begging for.

"Please, what?" Andre prompts, his tongue circling my entrance teasingly.

"Please, Monsieur," I correct myself, remembering the protocol.

He rewards me by sliding a finger inside me, humming with satisfaction at how wet I am. "So eager to please all of us, aren't you?"

"Yes, Monsieur," I gasp as he adds a second finger, curling them to hit that perfect spot inside me.

Jamal moves to stand by my head, his hand gently stroking my hair. "You're doing beautifully, my love," he praises, his eyes dark with lust and pride. "How does it feel to be the center of attention for three Dominant men?"

"Overwhelming," I admit, my voice breaking as Andre's tongue returns to my clit while his fingers continue their relentless assault. "In the best possible way."

Miguel chuckles, twisting my nipples just hard enough to make me gasp. "She was made for this," he tells the others. "A natural submissive who craves the attention and control of multiple Dominants." His hands slide down to massage my breasts, his touch expert and confident.

Andre's ministrations between my thighs grow more intense, his fingers pumping faster as his tongue flicks mercilessly across my swollen clit. I feel my orgasm building rapidly, my thighs trembling against my restraints.

"May I come, Master?" I gasp to Jamal, knowing the rules.

Jamal exchanges glances with Andre, who pauses his assault momentarily. "Not yet," Jamal decides, stroking himself as he watches. "Andre deserves to feel you come around his cock."

Andre withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips to taste my arousal. "Délicieux," he murmurs appreciatively before positioning himself at my entrance. The blunt head of his cock pushes against me, thicker than both Jamal and Miguel. He enters me with agonizing slowness, stretching me deliciously as he fills me inch by inch.

"Mon Dieu," he groans, his accent thickening with arousal. "She's exquisite, Jamal."

I try to rock my hips to take him deeper, but the restraints limit my movement, leaving me completely at his mercy. When he finally hilts inside me, I feel impossibly full, my inner walls stretched to accommodate his impressive girth.

"Please move, Monsieur," I beg, desperate for friction.

Andre chuckles, beginning a slow, measured pace. "So polite," he comments to the others. "Even when she's desperate, she remembers her manners."

Miguel moves to stand beside Andre, his hand stroking his own hardness as he watches Andre take me. "I want her mouth," he says, his voice thick with desire. "I want to feel those perfect lips around me while you fuck her."

Jamal nods his approval as Miguel positions himself by my head, guiding his length between my parted lips. The position is challenging—restrained as I am, I can't control the depth or angle. Miguel seems to understand, holding my head gently as he feeds his cock into my mouth with careful thrusts.

"That's it," he encourages as I hollow my cheeks around him. "Take what you're given, beautiful."

Andre's pace increases, his powerful thrusts driving me further onto Miguel's length. I'm filled from both ends, entirely at their mercy. Jamal watches intently, his eyes darkened with lust as his wife services two other men before him.

"Release her hands," Andre instructs between thrusts. "I want to feel her nails on my back."

Jamal quickly unfastens my wrist restraints, leaving my ankles still securely bound. My freed hands immediately reach for Andre, my nails digging into his muscular shoulders as he pounds into me. Miguel guides my head, controlling the rhythm as I take him deeper into my throat.

"She's close," Jamal observes, noticing the familiar flush spreading across my chest. "I can always tell when she's about to come."

Andre slips a hand between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit. "Then let's push her over the edge." He rubs tight circles against the sensitive bud while maintaining his relentless pace.

The dual stimulation is too much. I moan around Miguel's cock as my orgasm crashes through me, my inner walls clamping down on Andre's thickness. The intensity of my climax triggers Miguel's release—he groans, holding himself deep in my throat as his hot seed pulses down my throat. I swallow greedily, maintaining eye contact with him as he shudders through his release.

Andre's pace becomes frantic, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises. "Je vais jouir," he growls, his accent thickening as he approaches his climax. With a final powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing inside me as he finds his release.

The room fills with the sound of heavy breathing as both men withdraw from my trembling body. Jamal approaches, his own arousal evident as he strokes himself.

"My turn," he says, his voice thick with need. He positions himself between my still-bound legs, entering me in one smooth thrust. The feeling of taking my husband after being filled by two other men is indescribably erotic. Jamal feels different inside me—familiar yet new, as my body accommodates him after being stretched by Andre.

"You feel so good, baby," Jamal groans, his eyes locked with mine. "So wet and open from taking both of them." His hips snap against mine with possessive force, reclaiming what belongs to him. "Did you enjoy your anniversary surprise?"

"Yes, Master," I gasp, my oversensitive body responding to his familiar rhythm. "Thank you for sharing me."

Miguel and Andre watch from either side of the bed, their eyes heavy with satisfaction as they observe the intimate connection between husband and wife. Jamal's thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his climax, his fingers digging into my thighs.

"You're mine," he growls, leaning down to bite my neck just above the collar. "No matter who else fucks you, you will always belong to me."

"Only yours, Master," I whisper, my body responding to his possessive words even as it trembles from multiple orgasms.

Jamal drives into me one final time, burying himself deep as his release floods me. He collapses forward, his weight pressing me into the mattress as he catches his breath. After a moment, he carefully withdraws and begins unfastening my ankle restraints, massaging each leg as he frees it.

Andre returns from the bathroom with a warm, damp cloth. With surprising tenderness, he gently cleans between my thighs, his touch clinical yet intimate. Miguel pours champagne for everyone, passing glasses around as Jamal helps me sit up against the headboard.

"To new beginnings," Andre toasts, his accent caressing the words. "And to the most exquisite submissive I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing."

We clink glasses, the champagne cool and refreshing after our exertions. Jamal wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest protectively.

"How long are you in Barbados, Andre?" I ask, taking a sip of my champagne.

"Two weeks," he replies, his eyes traveling appreciatively over my body. "Though I may extend my stay, given the... attractions."

Miguel checks his watch, sighing reluctantly. "I must return to work soon. The hotel manager will notice my absence."

"When will we see you again?" Jamal asks, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my shoulder.

"Tomorrow evening," Miguel says with a knowing smile. "I've arranged something special at my private club. If you're interested?"

Andre's eyebrows raises with interest. "The Velvet Rope?" he asks, his eyes lighting with recognition.

"You've heard of it?" Miguel looks pleasantly surprised.

"Heard of it?" Andre laughs, a rich sound that fills the room. "Your establishment is legendary even in Paris. I've been hoping to visit, but I understood it was invitation only."

Miguel's eyes drift to my collar, his lips curving into a smile. "Anyone wearing Jamal's collar has permanent access. You're all welcome as my guests."

A thrill runs through me at the prospect. I've heard Jamal mention The Velvet Rope in hushed, reverent tones—an exclusive BDSM club that caters to the island's most elite visitors and residents. The thought of entering such a space, collared and claimed by Jamal, with Andre and Miguel accompanying us, sends a fresh wave of arousal through my already satisfied body.