Their Little Helper

by Nichole Riley

  I sit in silence for a few minutes, completely taken aback, not sure what I should say to that. I am so thoroughly confused. Leaning back against the armrest of my sofa, I tug a pillow into my arms to hold, feeling as though I need a shield to brace myself with.

  “Explain please,” I urge, but he just keeps staring in my eyes for a few more weighted seconds. He must have found whatever he was looking for because he finally lets loose a deep sigh and I can visually see his shoulders relaxing.

  “I will, but first, I must say one thing.” I nod my head in an attempt to encourage him to continue while looking him square in the eyes. I desperately want to know what he has to say, and I would do just about anything to get the answer.

  I know I have been comparing Draven to a feline predator, but wasn’t I really the cat in this situation? You know, with my curiosity and all? Damn it. I hope I have a lot of lives left, because I have a feeling these brothers will be running through them one after another.

  “Listen to me, Kensley,”

  “Kenz.” I correct him automatically. “I mean, I feel like we have experienced enough together that you can drop the formality. So, please, call me Kenz.” He lips twitch in a smile at my outburst.

  “Okay, Kenz,” I’m not going to lie, the sound of his silky voice saying my name is like a shot of strong whiskey—comforting and searing at the same time. It’s enough to wake my bitch of a libido back up, and guess what—she doesn’t even need coaxing this time. It’s like when she sensed Damien’s presence she was all like ‘Look, a Gunsmith! Time to turn on the water works!’ I had placed the pillow in my lap hoping to god evidence of my arousal wouldn’t leak through my pants. “Listen to me,” I snap my eyes to his, “What me and my brothers do is something, uh, special.”

  “Special how?” I ask because he seems to be hesitating in telling me. Nope, no time for that, I need my answers, stat.

  “We live a very different lifestyle than typical people,” he seems like he is trying to ease me into this, so I snort a laugh and blatantly roll my eyes.

  “No shit Sherlock, I kind of picked up on that when I walked into that room!” He breaks my eye contact and looks to the side while a small blush creeps up his cheeks.

  “Okay, just hear me out, woman. Let me finish. It will take forever if you keep popping off like that.” I chuckle a bit and promptly mime zipping my lips and tucking the key in my shirt pocket. His eye light up with humor and he shakes his head at me. “No, we never fuck each other, but we do share the women we are involved with. Which, with our track record, only tends to be one woman at a time. You see, we live out role play. You’ve probably heard this thing floating around in the Sub/Dom community, but we do not take it that far.”

  I lean forward a little bit more. He’s definitely garnered my full attention. But how? I guess he sees the questions flying through my mind so he answers.

  “It’s hard to put it into words. Honestly, it’s easier to show you; which by the way, we wouldn’t mind doing just that at any time.” He gives me a wink, and now it’s my turn to blush. “Draven is like our leader, our Dom for the sake of this talk. He is also a voyeur so this role fits him perfectly.” I lift my eyebrows in shock, because I hadn’t expected Draven to be a voyeur. I mean, Dom sounds about right with his controlling nature, but the other?

  I guess Damien misconstrues my expression because he hurries to state, “A voyeur is someone who gets off by watching—“ I cut him off.

  “I know what it is.” He nods his head and takes a deep breath to continue on.

  “The very surface of it is Draven will boss us around to do things with our female companions as he watches. The rest of us are fucked up enough to get aroused by being told what to do, essentially being controlled. Then you add in the twins and their pain fetishes and you have our whole fucked up family.” He ends with a chuckle and a sheepish smile. When I stay silent for a minute, he runs his hand back through his hair in that telling nervous gesture that I’m not even sure he is aware of.

  “Okay,” I start and he slowly looks back up at me, “I guess I can accept that, but it still doesn’t answer my main question. How does it work?” He looks hard into my eyes again, I guess seeing if my curiosity is sincere.

  “Like I just said, it is easier to show you than to explain.” He stands up and walks back to the door. Is he seriously going to just drop all this fucked up shit on me and leave? Oh, no, I think not. I get up and walk towards him as he opens the door. Once he gets outside, he turns and looks at me.

  “I respect you, Kensley. Hell, we all like your spunk. We just wanted you to know the truth.” I shoot my arm out and catch the door before he finishes pulling it shut. He turns and looks at me in question.

  “Show me,” I demand.

  “What?” He blinks in surprise. I’m assuming he thinks he’s heard me wrong.

  “You heard me. If you can’t properly explain this thing you guys do, then show me.” We stay locked in an awkward but heated staring contest, and I’m sure he is still trying to discern the seriousness of my demand.

  “Why?” He asks me in earnest.

  “I don’t know. Call me…intrigued and curious.” I shrug my shoulders, feigning nonchalance, but in all honesty, I am quivering inside with excitement. I want to see what he has tried to describe, I need to see it played out with new eyes.

  “Fine,” There is steel resolution in his tone as he eyes me up and down briefly, “Meet us in our room at ten.” I smile in excitement and he holds his hand up to slow my happiness. “Don’t say I haven’t warned you, Kenz. We are some fucked up and broken men. Please believe me when I say this isn’t for the faint of heart.” I nod my head excitedly in understanding, figuring I would mull over what exactly that statement meant at a later date. He brings his hand to my face and lets his thumb slide along my jaw till it rubs across my bottom lip. “Okay. See you then.” And like that, he leaves without a single glance back.

  Chapter Nine

  At exactly 9:58, I’m standing outside the brother’s door, clenching and unclenching my hands while I stare at the damn evergreen wreath like it would give me a pep talk for what I’m about to do.

  Can I really do this? Hell, I know my body can do it perfectly fine. That’s definitely not in question. I haven’t been able to get the little hussy to calm down since my conversation with Damien earlier this evening. But my mind, well, that fickle thing is now starting to apply the brakes a bit.

  What the hell am I truly getting myself into?

  I knew I should have never looked up role play on the internet while waiting for the rest of the evening to pass by before coming up here.

  Trust me—there’s some stuff under that particular subject that you would never want to stumble across. I tried to find everything I could get my hands on, but nothing I came across could really give me a definitive visualization for what Damien had described to me.

  This is why I am now frozen in front of their door.

  I truly am letting my curiosity control my sanity. I raise my hand up to knock but promptly put it back down. I need to be completely sure that when I knock on this door, I am completely willing to accept whatever it is they try and show me. I raise my hand to knock once more and the door is suddenly flung open.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Anson says exasperatedly, “Get your sexy ass in here. I have been waiting for you to knock on the door for nearly five minutes now. We are wasting precious time, poppet.” He grabs my wrist and drags me inside, letting the door click shut behind us.

  We go through the living area, and instead of going to the guest room I had discovered them in a few days ago, he drags me to the left bedroom. The master suite.

  When we cross the threshold I spot Oren causally leaning back on his elbows on the bed wearing nothing but a white muscle tank and his tan slacks. I feel myself start to drool a bit and roughly swallow it back as I nervously look around at the rest of my surroundings. All four men are in some form of undress and seem perfec
tly relaxed, unlike myself. If I were to be honest, I might just like this look of theirs best of all.

  “Good evening, Miss Coleman,” for the first time that I can recall, Draven is addressing me with a friendly voice as his sips at the light amber liquid in his glass.

  “Good evening, Mr. Gunsmith,” I respond awkwardly as I try not to stare at the expanse of chest he has on display with his white shirt fully unbuttoned.

  I’ve read countless novels and seen numerous pictures where you could count a man’s individual abdominal muscles, but this was the first time that I had experienced it in person. Were these men trying to play out my fantasy? I inwardly shake my head; no way that would be possible. They don’t even know that I’ve been secretly lusting off of their taboo nature…right?

  “Come on, poppet, have a seat.” Anson continues to drag me by my wrist, physically snapping me out of my trance brought on by the sight of Draven’s body. In a sudden rush of movement that I suspect was to prevent my overactive mind from turning me around and walking me out the door, I wind up on the bed in between the twins looking directly towards Draven.

  I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what’s happening when Damien walks in. If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I’m 98% certain my legs would have turned into Jell-O and collapsed right out from under me. Damien strides up next to the chair where Draven is sitting, one of the hotel’s soft white towels in hand as he dries his hair.

  Ladies and Gentlemen, this man is fresh from the shower, sans shirt. I take a second to let my eyes trail over his bare chest, shocked to see both of his nipples are pierced. My mouth begins to water again, and I desperately want to suck one in my mouth and give it a small tug with my teeth.

  Continuing down his sculpted pecks and past the mountains, plains, and valleys of his abs, I see they lead to one of the most defined Adonis belts I have ever laid eyes on. I shit you not when I say that it forms a perfect arrow pointing down.

  I cross my legs together tightly and hear a rumble of low laughter float over from Oren’s direction. My face heats up a little bit because I know I’ve been caught red-handed…or technically, red-faced.

  “So, I heard that you were curious about the life style my brothers and I live, Miss Coleman,” Draven breaks the tension with his decidedly silky words as he stands to his feet and walks towards me. I shakily nod my head in agreement.

  “You can use your words; we’re not here to judge.” He says softly. I assume he can sense how nervous I am at this possibly life-altering moment in time.

  “Yeah, poppet, trust me when I say you can’t be more fucked up than us!” Anson chirps happily.

  “Quiet!” Draven snaps at him and I jump from the unexpected command. Anson drops his head and Draven looks back in my direction. He’s waiting for me to speak.

  “Uh, yes, that is correct.” I respond quietly, but at least I get the words out. Score one for me!

  “I don’t mind showing you what we mean, but there has to be a few rules set in place first.” He takes another sip from his glass and I see Damien’s interest pique with his phrasing.

  “What kind of rules?” I hedge cautiously. Maybe I really am in over my head here. But I’m already in the room. I guess I should nut up and see this through till the end.

  “For starters, as I am sure you’ve already gleaned simply by watching us around the hotel, I like to be in control.”

  “Yes, I’ve definitely picked up on that,” I’m finding reassurance in this discussion the more that I talk, and I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what Draven is wanting me to feel.

  “I don’t think you understand the full extent of it. I like to control every little thing in the room, from the way my brothers touch a girl to the moment I allow a girl to come.” At this information, I gulp; flashes of sexy scenarios keep running through my mind as he talks.

  “I don’t mind showing you, especially since you have asked so nicely, but I need to make one thing clear,” his steely gaze bores into my wide eyes, “What happens in this room stays in this room. Since you are not a full, active board member we’re currently working with on the merger, we will not be breaking one of our personal rules—mixing business with pleasure.”

  “I understand, and I agree.” There was no way I was telling anyone about whatever was about to happen. Well…maybe Roxanne. Maybe.

  He nods his head in approval, and then points to Oren. In the space of a single breath, my hands are pulled into Oren’s strong grip and I am being forced to lay down on the bed as Anson hops up and takes off my shoes.

  “What, uh, what are you doing?” I ask nervously. I am completely caught off guard right about now. Draven walks up to my side of the bed taking another lazy sip of his drink, looking far too casual and smug.

  “Well, you said you wanted us to show you. So we are going to show you. Rule number one. There will be no talking, unless I give you permission. Do you understand?” He squats down until he’s at my level and looks deep into my eyes. I nod my head yes.

  “Hold her down, Oren,” Oren obeys like a puppet on a string and maneuvers my hands above my head, not holding on too tight, but it is enough pressure to keep me firmly in place.

  I look up to Oren and see him give me a confident smile and playful wink. The simplicity of the gesture is enough to help put my nervous mind at ease, and I find myself relaxing enough to allow the sensations that are in my body to fully rise to the surface.

  Heaving a great sigh to further settle my nerves, I look back towards Draven just in time to see him point to my feet, and Anson comes to grab my legs and fully extend them, pinning my legs flat on the bed. Still using his wordless communication, he nods to Damien, and like a well-oiled machine, Damien snaps into action. I’m marveled by how fluidly they work together; they weren’t lying when they said it was a way of life for them.

  Damien walks up to where Draven is standing beside me and drops the towel he’s holding on the floor. I watch his hands rise up and they move to the buttons on the front of my shirt; I suck in a sharp breath in anxious anticipation of his touch. He makes quick work of undoing each of my buttons, starting from the bottom. Once he is done, he steps back and Draven steps up to his side. The both wear similar expressions of lust in their eyes. I notice my breaths become shallow pants, and when I look around, all four brothers are fixated on my red lace bra and the sharp up and down motion of my breasts.

  My nipples tighten and when I notice, I look up towards Oren who’s the closest to me. His pupils have practically blown into full dilation as he zeros in on the pebbled tips. I squirm a little starting to feel heat creeping up my flesh. I need someone to touch me, and soon, because I don’t know how much more of this blatant observation I can handle. Almost as if sensing my rising need, Draven reaches his palm out and lies it flat on my stomach to keep me still.

  I arch my back at his touch wishing his hand would travel further south. What comes next catches me completely off guard. Draven brings his glass over my body and proceeds to pour a small amount over my torso. When it hits, the cold sensation instantly sends goosebumps along my skin as the liquid slides down and pools in the crevice of my belly button.

  “Damien,” He looks to his brother and I watch Damien lift his gaze to Draven waiting on the next command, “Drink.” A ripple of anticipation rolls through my muscles causing them to tense, and the twins hold my limbs a bit tighter to keep me still.

  Damien’s heated gaze falls upon my stomach as he moves to crouch on the bed, fixing his right arm over my abdomen before bending down towards my navel. Right before he reaches my skin he looks up and gives me a wicked little smile. I pop my mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as he opens his mouth up and sticks his tongue out.

  Once his warm breath and hot tongue make contact with my cooler flesh, I close my eyes, getting lost in the exquisite feeling it brings me. He runs it along the outer ridge of my navel and then up a bit to the spot where Draven poured his drink on me. Each area his tongue grazes over feels like
it’s being lit on fire, leaving a trail of scorched skin.

  When he reaches the highest point below my bra, he moves his free hand to my side and holds my body in place and his makes his way straight back down in one, quick movement to drink the rest of the booze off me. When he’s done, he stands up, and the disturbance in the air sends a cool rush over my skin. I can feel my own arousal starting to gather and make my inner thighs slick. If Anson wasn’t holding my feet I would no doubt be rubbing my thighs together in search of any sort of friction.

  Draven walks back to the bed next to me and, before I can look up into his eyes, I notice the outline of his hard dick in his black slacks. I lick my lips and slowly drag my eyes up to look at his face. I can see the lust in his eyes, but more than that I can see the absolute delight he is feeling to be in charge of the scene playing out before him.

  If this is how every encounter with the brothers went, I couldn’t understand why any woman would willingly leave their bed.

  “Did you enjoy that, Miss Coleman?” I give my head a shaky nod, and he reaches out to cup my face. Unable to help the movement, my body craving much more than it’s being given, I tilt my head into his palm. A small smile tilts the right side of his lip up and he gently encourages my head to turn to the other side.

  He makes quick work of shifting my hair out of the way and then leans into my personal bubble. The nearness of his face to mine brings a whole new level of heat to the situation. He continues to lean in till he’s right next to my ear where he whispers, “You haven’t experienced anything yet.” Then he trails a bit of his drink along my neck and sits up. Before I register what is about to happen, I feel him pouring more of the cool liquid along my left leg, all the way up to the rim of my shorts.

  “Anson, Oren. Go.” Without hesitation, they pounce into action and I’m sent into a blissful state as Oren begins to suck and lavish my neck as his twin pulls one leg up, slips between my legs, and then licks up until I am lost in the seductively blissful sensations.