Andrew Jericho is a ManLove erotic romance author for Siren-BookStrand Publishing, LGBTQ rights activist, humanitarian, and freelance journalist/photographer. His books explore gay men in real situations of life and love. Andrew blends romance, passion, and eroticism into all of his characters.
Often, Andrew’s characters select themselves, as he provides them with their literary voice. Once a story develops, he’s compelled to see it through to completion. Andrew’s characters make sure of that fact. Love and eroticism are two very important and powerful emotions which drive not only his characters, but his style of writing, too.
Andrew is a gay transgender man, who lives with his partner, John Jericho, and family. When not writing expect to find him enjoying spending time with family, photography, eclectic tastes in music and the arts, and browsing the local library and art galleries. All of Andrew’s work can be found at: http://andrewjericho.com/
Hard Times (Prison Masters #1) by Andrew Jericho
[Ménage and More ManLove: Erotic Alternative Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/M/M, HEA]
Ace Freeman is the president of Prison Masters, a BDSM club for gay males. He’s in love with cellmate Tyler Chase and guard Paul Ryder. Ace is Dominant, desiring to take both men as pets.
As an experienced sub, Tyler wants to give submission to two Masters. He slips an explicit drawing into Ace’s notebook. Later, he blurts out his affections for Paul. Tyler hopes his actions will gain collars from both men.
Underneath Paul’s shy and soft-spoken exterior lies a man who lives the BDSM lifestyle. Paul is a switch. The guard desires a Master who can fulfill his need for no limits, and a pet to dominate. However, Paul knows his desires for Ace and Tyler have the potential to cost his job.
A good Master cares for his pets. Ace believes that principle. Once a triad begins to form, Ace needs to find a way to ensure their love will survive even in the hard times.
Note: This book contains double anal penetration.
A Siren Erotic Romance
Within two months, Ace was sleeping in Carlos’s bunk every night. One month later, the handsome Latino whispered, Te amo mi amor siempre. Ace still heard his tender voice. That was the first time another man had declared love. Ace had to eat his own words. The same night, he gave his body to the one who would become Master.
Carlos had been twice his age, but neither man cared. I’ll always love you, Master. The sentiment filled Ace’s mind. Tyler stirred, bringing him back to the present.
“Shh, baby,” Ace said. “Sleep. You’re safe.”
For two years, Ace had felt safe in Carlos’s arms, too. The Latino’s gentle touch kept him sane. Carlos had given him the freedom to explore sexuality. From puberty, Ace had wanted to kiss boys. As he grew, so did his desires. Carlos became his best friend, lover, partner, and Master. Then one day, it was all over.
Carlos had been in charge of the Prison Masters’s club. He hated the word “gang.” Carlos believed it incited violence. The group was for gay men, including those interested in the BDSM lifestyle. Submissives were also welcomed. A riot between Prison Masters and White Aryan Resistance had broken out. Carlos was shanked. He bled out in Ace’s arms. Ace still wore Master’s collar. More memories of the man he still loved filled his thoughts.
* * * *
“I’ve taught you well, pet.” Carlos’s voice quivered in pain. He reached for Ace’s hand. “I’m so cold.”
“You’re all right. Master, stay awake!”
“Pet, you’re in charge now. You’ll make a good Master, because you’ve known submission.”
“One last scene.”
“My last order—I bind your submission to me. Never give it to another.”
“Master? Master! Wake up! Dammit, don’t leave me!”
* * * *
Sometimes ten years ago seemed like yesterday. At others, Carlos was a distant memory. Ace didn’t even have a picture of him. The memories lived in his heart. He would always be in love with Carlos Sanchez. Their final scene would be eternally played. Ace had never given submission to another man. Carlos had symbolically bound them in that dynamic forever. Out of respect for Master, he had never spoken of that moment with anyone.
Ace had become a man in his Latin lover’s arms. Carlos had made love to him first. Then, several months into the commitment, they had negotiated their first scene. BDSM had saved Ace, mentally and physically. The positive effects counteracted the negativity of prison life. While it wasn’t completely negated, it made it bearable.
From the first time Carlos had put him in subspace, Ace craved it. It hadn’t just been the cuffs on his hands and ankles, or the way Carlos flogged him, but his lover’s dominant words. The euphoria came slow, arriving like an evening tide. Once Ace surrendered to it, every inch of flesh tingled. He experienced sensations of tunnel vision. Carlos’s face was the only image visible. BDSM quickly became their preferred form of lovemaking.
After Carlos’s death, Ace had assumed leadership of Prison Masters. The club’s members accepted Ace without question. Even though Ace had been Master’s pet, he was now a Dominant man. Since then, he had experienced Domspace, but subspace would always find its way back. Many nights, Ace recalled Carlos’s final order. Raw arousal burned through his body. He would cuff himself, imagining it was Carlos’s hands buckling the leather. The memories slipped him over the edge.
Some of the club’s older men defined him as a switch. Others saw his dominance. Regardless he had earned their respect. Members from rival gangs didn’t lay a hand on anything belonging to Master.
One afternoon, six months ago, Ace had learned it was possible to be in love with three men—Carlos, Paul, and Tyler. The twink in his arms ignited his dominance in ways no other man had, except for Paul Ryder. Paul started work as a guard a year before Carlos’s death.
The blond-haired, soft-spoken man still worked the midnight to noon shift. He was a decent guy, just trying to do his job.
Prison Masters met each morning at breakfast. The group had nearly two dozen members. Even though Paul was on duty, he always seemed to be more interested in their meetings than guarding. Paul had been friends with Carlos, so it was natural to continue the camaraderie with Ace.
A year ago, Paul’s Dom had passed away, leaving the handsome guard an emotional mess. A few months after the man’s death, Ace had eased Paul’s pain, making him feel like a submissive again. Two months before Tyler arrived, both men admitted their love, but held each other at arm’s length. Ace knew it would cost Paul his job to become involved. What type of life would they have with Paul dividing his time between prison and the outside world? Ace feared the heartbreak.
Sure, he had been with other men besides Paul and Tyler. He had fucked, made love, and even been Master to several during play. Men transferred units, and some got paroled. Prison Masters provided a safe, sane, and consensual place to play, but Carlos had whetted his desires for more. While Carlos had awakened his submission, Tyler peaked his dominance. Ace not only wanted to play with the young man, he wanted a commitment again.
Tyler hoped his eyes reflected the desire in his body. Ace was buckling leather fur-lined cuffs around his wrists. When Ace put the first restraint through one of the cuff’s D-rings, Tyler whimpered. He arched his back off the bed.
“Hold still, pet.”
Ace finished threading the restraint through the D-ring. Then, he slipped it around the gold metal bars of the headboard. He repeated the process with the other cuff. Once Tyler was secured, Ace pressed his mouth to his trembling lips.
“Making that drawing come true,” Ace said.
“Both of you are my fantasy.”
Tyler’s dick ached. His lover’s dominance fueled his submission. Tyler’s whimpers were muffled by a three-way kiss. Tongues tangled. Lips moved against each other.
Paul finally broke away from the kissing. “Always compared it to a gentle hug, keeping me in submission.” He wound a strip of hemp rope around Tyler’s left forearm. Each twist created a neat row. The guard tied the two ends in a center knot. Paul repeated the action on the other arm.
The guard used longer pieces of rope on Tyler’s upper thighs, repeating the same process. “There are many styles of kinbaku.” Paul used the technique on his lower legs. He bound him from the knees, down to his ankles, with rows and neatly placed knots. “Don’t want your legs completely restrained together. Couldn’t fuck.”
“We’d fuck, Master,” Tyler replied.
Tyler had been restrained before, but never in the intricate weavings of kinbaku. Paul was right, it was a gentle hug. The sensation of the guard’s rope work, combined with Ace’s restraints, pushed Tyler toward his inferno.
The young man couldn’t decide who was hotter. Both men had smokin’ physiques. As their skin brushed his, Tyler’s flesh tingled. Ace and Paul were back between his legs. Two sets of hands caressed him. Lips skimmed his neck, shoulders, and chest. Paul took a nipple into his mouth, teasing the hard peak with his tongue. Tyler cried out. Ace’s hand smacked his ass.
“Get you warmed up,” Ace said.
“And worked up,” Paul said.
The guard moved down his body. His lover bent his legs against his chest. Paul licked Tyler’s rim, circling the opening.
“Holy fuck,” Tyler spoke.
Paul sank his tongue inside Tyler’s ass. “Are you Master’s slut?” Paul’s tongue teased his rim again. “Expect you to answer me, if you want it back inside you.”
“Don’t forget again.”
The fullness of Paul’s tongue pressed back inside. The guard’s fingertips kneaded his buttocks, keeping the cheeks apart. Tyler whimpered. Ace’s hand spanked his ass again. Paul mirrored the action on his other hip.
Tyler’s dick was rock hard, laying at an angle against his abdomen. Each strike of his lovers’ hands produced a stream of pre-cum. Ace was licking the juice from his cockhead.
“Put me in your mouth, Master,” Tyler pleaded.
Ace hesitated, teasing his swollen head with his tongue.
“Dammit, put me in your mouth!”
“Pets don’t make demands.”
Tyler smiled. “I’m a brat, remember?”
“Yeah, we know,” Paul replied. The guard resumed fucking Tyler’s ass with his tongue.
Ace wrapped his mouth around his shaft. Tyler writhed on the bed. He pulled at his restraints. The young man arched his back off the bed. Ace pushed him back down.
“Love you, Master.”
“I love you, pet.”
After several swirls of Ace’s tongue on the shaft, Tyler’s cock was removed from his lover’s mouth. Tyler protested, yanking at his restraints.
“Yeah, you’re a brat,” Ace said, “a brat who’s going to watch me get his other Master aroused.”
Tyler was trembling. A warm sweat broke out over his skin. The base of his spine tingled as his release built. The smack of hands on his ass cheeks, elicited another moan. He didn’t know how he would survive watching Ace fuck Paul, but he damn sure knew it would keep the inferno smoldering hot.
Ace pulled Paul to the center of the bed. Both men knelt in front of Tyler.Hot. So fucking hot. Ace’s tongue inside Paul’s mouth kept a steady stream of pre-cum running down Tyler’s shaft. The guard’s moans sent electrical current to Tyler’s dick.
“Fuck him, Master.”
“Pet doesn’t like to just be taken. Have to break that wall of shyness.”
Ace’s hands were caressing Paul’s body. Fingertips smoothed the guard’s muscles. Tyler bit his lip when Ace’s tenderness turned to smacks against their lover’s ass. Paul’s eyes closed in pleasure.
“Master,” Paul said.
They touched each other with familiar affection. The dynamic Ace shared with Paul went beyond Dominance and submission. The couple shared a private passion. Tyler recalled his own intimacy with the president of Prison Masters. Right now, that same man was giving what another needed.
“Those needs I couldn’t satisfy before won’t go unmet,” Ace said. He placed a finger against Paul’s mouth. “Don’t speak.”
Paul brushed a hand against his eyes. Tyler knew it was to hide tears.
“I love you, Master.”
“I love you, pet.”
Holy hell. Sweet Jesus. Ace put a ball gag in Paul’s mouth. Tyler must have missed Ace dragging that out his duffel bag, as well as white nylon rope, and the black flogger on the foot of the bed.
Ace turned Paul around, binding their lover’s wrists behind his back. His partner was whispering into the guard’s ear, with each twist of the rope. What was said was not important, but the look on Paul’s face was. Damn. Holy Fuck. Paul was a little slut, too, in Master’s arms.
Paul nodded. Ace picked up the flogger. Tyler expected to see hard lashes against their lover’s back. Instead, Ace wielded the implement in gentle strokes. The tails caressed Paul’s back in erotic massage.
Restrained and bound, the fantasies of Tyler’s drawings were coming true. Seeing his two Masters play was even better. Paul was the hottest switch Tyler had ever known. The man slipped from Dominance to submission smoothly. Tyler already had a taste of Paul. He wanted more.