God, she wanted a ménage. Her parents would be perfectly horrified. She was almost thirty years old and she’d finally found a way to rebel.
“Hello, honey.” Ben barred the door, his gorgeous chest on display. He wore a pair of jeans but had brilliantly eschewed his shirt. Neither of the Dawson brothers needed to ever wear a shirt.
“Hi.” It was stupid, but she couldn’t stop her grin.
Chase crowded her from behind. She was surrounded by Dawson hotness. It was really hard to think about her previous damage when enveloped by gorgeous masculinity.
Kind masculinity. Maybe that was the key. Nothing these two men had done to anyone had been less than kind. Well, except for Tate. They’d been pissy with Tate, but maybe he’d deserved it. Tate had definitely seen her with Chase in the dungeon. He should have asked before he’d tried to touch her. He’d been a Dom long enough to know better.
“Are you sure?” Ben asked.
Damn brothers weren’t going to make this easy. “I don’t need to talk about it anymore. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t, but she had to try.
Ben leaned over, kissing her forehead briefly, and then stepped back, allowing her inside. “The talking thing was important. Communication is the key to this. No clothes, Natalie. If these people are even slightly hard-core, you won’t be allowed clothes. Not in the dungeon. Take them off and find your position. I’m sorry, baby. I can’t go easy on you. I’ll have to be hard out in the field, so I need to know if you can handle it.”
A little trepidation started to crowd out her arousal. She stepped into the playroom because it wasn’t really a dungeon. It was too cheery. Bright late-afternoon light filtered in from the dual skylights on the ceiling. The whole room was painted in lovely blues and greens, the carpet plush under her feet telling her that the Barnes-Fleetwood clan wasn’t into anything too crazy. Blood play addicts would have insisted on easy-clean flooring. She would bet they never got past a little spanking, and some bondage and impact play.
Nothing hard-core. No knives past the ones Barnes would keep to quickly unleash his subs if he needed to.
“Nat, sweetheart, we’re waiting.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her compliance. Chase stepped in, standing next to his brother.
Nat couldn’t help but stare for a moment. This was important. Really important. She would figure out one way or another if she could do this. Years. She’d had years of therapy. She’d done the work. She realized deep down that it hadn’t been her fault.
So why couldn’t she really cry?
“That’s five swats. Every ten seconds you delay is another five.” Chase’s whole demeanor changed. He was taking charge, his shoulders squaring, his eyes hardening. She watched him go from slightly awkward guy to pure Dom in a second.
And damn if her pussy didn’t respond. Well, at least part of her knew what she wanted.
With trembling fingers she pulled her shirt over her head and quickly shoved her pants off. No one had brought her undies or a bra, so that was easy. Naked. She was naked in front of them.
“Natalie, did you have a problem with nudity before you were taken?” Ben asked. His voice wasn’t exactly gentle. Both men had changed when they entered the room.
The days before Hawk came back with the sweetness of a remembered song. “No. I loved it actually. After I moved out of my parents’ place, I spent most of my time naked if I was at home or at the club. I was planning a vacation to a resort before it happened. I guess I was a little bit of an exhibitionist.”
“Well, sweetness, when you’re that gorgeous, you have a lot to exhibit. Now, we’re up to twenty swats. Do you want to go for thirty?” Chase asked.
Damn distracting men. Without another thought except to keeping her ass in one piece, she sank to her knees. Jack Barnes was a kind man. She sank into the plush carpet almost sighing in pleasure at the familiar, comforting position. She wasn’t thinking at all, and she simply found her position, spine straight, head down, knees splayed wide.
God, that was her old position. She hadn’t gone into the more extreme position Hawk had insisted on. He would use a cattle prod on her until her arms were torturously straight behind her back. She hadn’t been terribly flexible when she’d been kidnapped, and Hawk had decided the best way to force her arms into his preferred position was to tie them into place and leave them there for twenty-four hours. Sometimes, her arms still ached from the nerve damage.
“God, you’re beautiful.” Ben’s soft voice pulled her out of that dark place. He got to his knees, one placed between her spread thighs, the other nuzzling the outside of her left leg. “I’m going to ask for one small change.”
She couldn’t try it. She couldn’t shove her arms behind her back. She wasn’t even sure they worked that way anymore. She had nerve damage.
Ben took her hands gently in his and flipped them over so the palms were up on her knees. “I just think this is prettier, but if you need them to keep your balance, just tell me, baby. We just need to make sure you do it the same way every time.”
Chase’s hand found her hair. “I think she’s perfect the way she is.”
“Suck-up,” Ben shot back.
Nat let the memory go. She had to stay on task or her men would end up fighting like five-year-olds.
Her men. She’d just thought it. Dangerous. They weren’t hers, but she could play with them for a while.
“I want to play.” It was a revelation. She fucking wanted to play. Years had drifted by and she’d just gone along, stringing the days together, just surviving. She wanted to feel something other than fear and numbness.
Ben’s hand tangled in her hair, and he pulled her head up. Those deep blue eyes were so serious. “I want to play with you. God, Nat, you have no idea how much.”
“I don’t know how much I’m playing, sweetness,” Chase said, staring down at her. “But I’ll give you what you need. Now, if you’re ready, lean forward and put that gorgeous ass in the air. You’re due some discipline, and then I really want to take a look at that body.”
Discipline. Presentation. Two words sure to get her anxiety up, but they hadn’t steered her wrong. Retraining. What Hawk had taken away, the Dawsons might be able to give back. She wouldn’t know until she’d tried. She’d needed the support of Chase’s body under hers that first night in the dungeon, but Ben helped her lean forward and get to her hands and knees. She was deeply aware of her vulnerability. She was alone in a house with two Doms. She was naked. They could do what they wanted with her.
A little shiver went across her spine. It wasn’t an entirely horrible thought when she knew damn well they wouldn’t really hurt her.
She shivered a little as she felt a big hand caress her ass.
“It’s a count of twenty, sweetness. I want to hear you.” Chase’s hand smacked her ass.
Fire lashed across her. Well, she’d wanted to feel something. She wasn’t numb now. “One.”
“Damn it,” Ben cursed. “Do you have to be so hard?”
She’d never liked it soft. She’d always enjoyed some rough play. “Do it again.”
“She likes it. There’s a smart-ass masochist in there buried under all that fear. I mean to find her.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Count, please.”
“Two, three, four. Damn, Dawson. You hit like a girl.” He was holding back, and she didn’t like it. She’d liked where he’d taken her that first night. He’d pushed her. He’d treated her like a real sub, not a girl made of glass.
“And you push me like a fucking brat.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Count.”
Every nerve in her ass was screaming, but damn, at least she felt. Tears pricked her eyes. “Five. Six. Seven.”
Smack. “I…” Smack. “Will…” Smack. “Not…” Smack. “Be…” Smack. “Manipulated.”
“Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.” Every slap to her ass was exactly the same pressure, the same pain as the ones before. He wouldn’t hurt her. No matter how hard she pushed him. Te
ars coursed down. God, they felt so good. It wasn’t close to enough, but it felt good. “Please, Sir. Just a little more.”
“Now that I will respond to.” Smack. This one shook her. Smack. Smack. Smack.
That was what she needed. Pain flared, purifying her emotions and bringing everything she felt down to its base. Pain. Pleasure. A glorious mix of both. “Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.”
She cursed under her breath. Counting was a way of keeping her in the moment, and she didn’t really want to be in the moment. She wanted subspace. She wanted to float, but Chase was keeping her here.
Smack. Smack. He never hit her in the same place twice. His hand flew across her ass and thighs. Smack. “Count for me, sweetness.”
Bastard wouldn’t let her drift. It was right there. She could still get there. The whole time she’d been held captive she’d never found it. No subspace. No escape. She’d had to be strong. She’d had to keep herself in the moment even when the moment was horrible. She’d clung to the agony. Pain had so oftentimes been the friend to her pleasure, refining it and pushing her over the edge. She didn’t call what Hawk had given her pain. Agony. Never-ending dark. Yes, that was what she’d been in. This was sparks of light. “Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Damn it, Chase.”
Smack. He didn’t hold back with the last one. This one echoed along her spine. This one threatened to pull her back to a time when spanking was a source of pleasure and play and she would wiggle her willing ass at a fun-loving Dom. Nat gasped, her skin soaking up the heat of Chase Dawson’s hand. This wasn’t just fun. This was serious, but it was so much closer to her former life.
“Twenty.”
Her whole body sagged. Chase had kept her there with him, forcing her to be in the moment, and now she was still here. She could still feel the kiss he laid on her cheeks, his mouth caressing her everywhere he’d just slapped. His low moan skimmed along her flesh.
“Punishment, Natalie. Chase gave you his. Now you’ll take mine. On your knees. I need attention.” He was opening his pants, pushing them down. “Sweetheart, if this feels wrong to you, let me know.”
Sucking him off? Nope. That felt perfectly fine to her. His big cock sprang free, and suddenly Chase was beside him, his cock bobbing out of his pants. So much hot masculinity and it was all waiting for her. Three days they’d made her wait. They’d nearly killed her with the polite talking and hand-holding. She was ready for a little nasty stuff.
She let all the worries go and concentrated on the hard cocks in front of her. Pleasure. She could bring them pleasure. If this was the Dawson brothers’ version of rough justice, she could handle it.
She leaned forward and swiped at Ben’s dick with her tongue, satisfied with the groan that came from his mouth. He pressed his cock forward, diving deep.
“More, Natalie. I want to feel that fucking tongue ring.” Ben’s hands went to her hair, but he was gentle as he pulled her forward. She let her tongue whirl around the cock in her mouth.
“My turn.” Chase pulled her off Ben and offered his cock.
She would have trouble with them if she didn’t watch it. She sucked Chase deep, long passes of her mouth over his dick.
“Oh fuck, sweetness. This is exactly what I needed. Thank god for your bratty mouth,” Chase groaned.
They both tasted so good. She settled in, moving from one brother to the other, reveling in how hot they got, how hard their cocks were. They wanted her. It made it easy to forget everything else. Nothing mattered except these men. The world could drift away.
“Finish off Chase,” Ben commanded. “I’ll have my turn later.”
Ben was a giver and Chase took control. “Suck me hard, sweetness. Your mouth feels so fucking perfect and I won’t last long. I’ve been going crazy for days and I had to share a room with Ben. I’ve had to masturbate in the shower.”
Ben snorted. “No wonder you took three showers a day.”
Chase surged into her mouth, his cock taking up all the space. Desperate. He felt desperate to her and she felt the power flow. This was what she loved. The exchange. Dom to sub. Lover to lover.
She forced herself to breathe. She could do this. She remembered how sweet this could be. She pulled her mouth back and found the V on the underside of Chase’s truly beautiful cock. The soft, velvety skin covered his hardness and soothed along her tongue. The dip at the back of his cockhead was perfect for what she had in mind. She planted her tongue ring there and pushed up while she started to suck him hard.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck. God, you’re sweet. Take all of it.” Chase pressed in, forcing his cock to the back of her throat. “Have mercy, Cotton Candy. Just give me what I need.”
She relaxed. He needed the control now and she happily ceded it to him. He held her head in both hands, fucking into her mouth in long, hard strokes. She sucked, fighting him every time he pulled out. He rocked into her, finding a rhythm that soothed her even as she got hotter and hotter. She wanted to suck them both, moving her head between them, giving them their turns because she knew these men would pay her back with interest.
Chase’s movements became jerky, losing their smooth precision as he tightened his hands on her hair. “Take it all, sweetness. It’s all for you.”
She sucked him deep one last time as his cum began to coat her tongue. He was delicious. She’d missed this. The power. The connection. And it was stronger this time because it was Sir Dawson and her Ben. She could feel Ben’s hands on her as she swallowed Chase’s cum.
Chase’s hands softened, his thrusts slowing. “God, sweetness, I needed that.”
Nat sat back on her knees, licking her lips. She’d needed it, too. Days of being close to them had convinced her she wanted them—even if it was just for a little while. She turned her eyes up to Ben, who had tucked his cock back in his pants, but there was no mistaking the massive erection there.
“Not right now. I think I can now say Chase stole my treat and we’re even,” Ben said with a little grimace.
Chase tucked himself back in with a smile. “I’ll take that, brother.”
“On your back, Natalie.” Ben’s voice brooked no disobedience. “You present yourself now. Pussy up. I want to see that little jewel.”
She moved to the requested position, Chase at her back, his hands aiding her, bracing her. The carpet was soft on her sore backside. His breath was on her neck as she spread her legs. He pulled her arms over her head, around his neck. His legs slid under hers, splitting them and forcing them apart. It also forced her to acknowledge that she was hot as hell. Her pussy was ripe. She couldn’t help it. Her whole pelvis was flaring with awareness.
Ben stood over her, six and a half feet of pure grade A alpha male. His jeans were tenting with a spectacular erection. She knew just how hard that cock could get. “Freaking hell, is that a diamond?”
“It’s not real. I got it at a tattoo shop for twenty bucks, but it looked nice.” God, that sounded dumb. They were rich. She’d just told them she’d put a Diamonelle on her clit. Yeah, that was classy.
“I might need to upgrade you, sweetness, but that diamond isn’t the real jewel here,” Chase said. His hands were restless on her body, moving and caressing and finally retreating as though he wasn’t sure what he should do.
They were all feeling their way through this.
Ben got to his knees, his eyes never leaving her pussy. “Did it hurt?”
She felt her lips curve up. “Shockingly no. It hurt a hell of a lot less than the tongue piercing. I was kind of disappointed.” She’d sat in the Dallas tattoo parlor with Kitten and Finn and waited for the pain to purify her. Finn had given her hell about it. She would have simply found the nearest tattoo parlor and gotten the job done, but no, that wasn’t good enough for Finn. He’d researched and then flown out a master piercer from California to a Finn-approved studio for a piercing that had taken next to no time at all. Damn hood hadn’t had a whole lot of nerves, but the cold metal on her clit had been a revelation. “But I wasn’t
disappointed when I felt that ball against my clit.”
For the last several years, that piercing had been her only source of sexual stimulation. She gasped as Ben changed that for her. His big hand came down, index finger toying with the piercing. Yep, that had been a damn fine investment.
“It pulled your hood back. Your clit is exposed most of the time.” Ben was talking academically, but his eyes were anything but cool. “It’s pretty. And it seems to have an effect.” He dipped his finger down, sliding through her labia.
He was testing her, pushing her, but all she could think about was the fact that she was between them. Ben knelt between her legs. Chase was at her back, his denim-clad legs holding her open for his brother’s perusal. Her skin hummed. Every inch seemed to be stimulated by some part of them.
“Is she wet?” Chase’s words were hot on her neck. She leaned back into the heat of his chest. His erection was hard against her back, just a couple of centimeters of denim between them.
Ben growled a little, pulling his fingers out of her pussy and then sucking them inside, his tongue swirling to catch every drop of her cream. “Fuck, you taste good, Cotton Candy. I told you I wanted you to sit on my face. If big brother hadn’t been such a possessive dick, I already would have made a meal of you.”
Big brother slid his hands up to her breasts, his fingers finding her nipples. “Don’t you start in on me. I haven’t even fucked her yet. And that wet pussy has something to do with my hand on her ass. She likes a good spanking. Hard and fast. She’s not a tourist. She needs a little bite of pain to go with all that sugar.”
Not a tourist? It was a word lifestylers used for the casual BDSMer, the type who played once or twice and then moved on to the next thing that caught their eye. She’d felt like a tourist in her own life for years now. Chase pinched her nipples. She should get her nipples pierced.
A flash of black memory came back to her. She remembered overhearing Hawk discussing her body modification plans. Hawk often spoke around her like she wasn’t there. Her will hadn’t mattered. She’d had no voice in her own life. She’d been a toy, and a child didn’t take a toy’s wants or needs into consideration.