In a slow, seductive slide of her finger she traced the rim of her glass as she regarded them. “I’m agreeable to join the bet.” Her cheeks flushed a color that wreaked havoc on Smith’s cock, making it ache in need. “But I’m afraid there’s a problem.”
Smith forced his attention away from her slender finger that he hoped would make a similar move on his dick. He also ignored her pinkish cheeks that he prayed burned deeper while she writhed beneath him. “Which is?”
She hesitated, then said on a quick breath, “I don’t orgasm easily.”
Smith smiled. As if that would be a problem. But it was glaringly obvious she pretended to be a sex kitten who was, in fact, more or less, in way over her beautiful head.
He could see himself respecting a woman like Kyra.
He exchanged a look with Brock, who gave him a firm nod, indicating their thoughts ran on the same line. Smith turned to Kyra again, and he noticed how she squirmed in her seat.
Exactly how he wanted her.
Smith appreciated a confident woman who fought to be brave, and he respected the trait, yet without a certain vulnerability to her, the appeal would fade. He loved pink cheeks and a stunned speechless woman under his touch. More to the point, enjoyed when a woman unraveled in his presence. To hold such heady power fed a greedy part in his soul.
In the minutes Kyra had been in his office, she’d given him all these things.
He tilted his head, regarding the treat awaiting him on the couch. “Quite the dilemma, isn’t it?” He stood from his seat and approached her. It delighted him how she sucked in a deep breath, and how ragged it sounded from her parted lips.
Once in front of her, he took the wineglass from her hands. The stunning clarity in her eyes mesmerized him. “Sit on the desk. Do not cross your legs.”
Her eyes blazed with reservations, even as she licked her lips. “Why?”
Smith scanned over her long, beautiful neck, her silky skin stretching over her hammering pulse. “We take our bets seriously and need to know what we’re up against. It’s a lot of money to wager if it’s bound to fail.” He leaned down into her face, his cock pressed against the zipper in his slacks. “Get on the desk, Kyra.”
Chapter Two
In two-point-two seconds, Kyra leaped to her feet. Her blood burned, even if Smith intimidated her, since she stood eye level with his chest. His tall stature was the first thing she noticed in his profile at the castle. Well, also his photo, where he looked like some Wall Street hunk.
The photo hadn’t done him justice. Good glorious Jesus, the man was hot as hell.
Not to say his appearance had been his only appeal. She was used to dealing with handsome and powerful men. Her employment with the PR firm Silverholt had those types. What had sealed the deal for their night was something she’d seen in his eyes, something that made her want to know him.
Now something else concerned her.
After what she’d heard and seen from these men, she wondered if she’d made a mistake by accepting their invitation. She lifted her chin, staring into Smith’s warm chocolate-brown eyes. “Are you doms?”
Smith shared a puzzled look with Brock. His gaze held a certain depth that Kyra decided was a healthy amount of confidence. He frowned when he said, “I suppose some might perceive us as dominant men.”
“No, not dominant men,” she corrected, saying the words slowly and carefully. She didn’t want any misunderstanding. “Doms. BDSM. As in, bossing women around, refusing orgasms, and demanding submission.”
Brock barked a laugh. His eyebrows arched over his piercing eyes, which to her annoyance, held an equal amount of haughtiness. “Do we look like men who would enjoy what you’ve suggested?”
Kyra scanned over Brock, noting the hard angles of his jawline. He reminded her of a fitness model she’d seen grace a cover once. Hell, he fit the model type with his sandy-colored hair, masculine but beautiful features, and his athletic frame.
Even he had caught her interest from the get-go. More than the little tickle between her thighs at the idea of being with Brock and Smith, she couldn’t quite pinpoint why she’d been so dead set on meeting them.
There was just something about them that drew her in like a bug to a light.
Smith had a thicker frame, like a man who’d spent hours in the gym. His jaw was softer than Brock’s, yet his lips were more defined. She didn’t doubt for a moment both men had six-packs and a plentiful display of muscles beneath their tailored suits.
What concerned her was the self-assurance they portrayed. Arrogance she’d seen all too often in the form of her best friends’, Marley and Bella’s, boyfriends. After another quick look at their stern expressions, she nodded with conviction. “Yes, you both act like doms.”
Smith appeared to fight his smile, but his voice was rich with amusement. “Would you like us to dominate you? I’ve never refused an orgasm, or expected submission, but if you wish—”
“No, I do not wish.” Kyra’s fingernails dug into her palms. “I’m not looking for a dom.” She hesitated. “Or I should say, two of them.”
Brock gave her a long look. “Beyond being the most peculiar conversation I’ve ever had with a woman, why would you assume we live that lifestyle?”
“Well…” At Brock’s question and Smith’s amusement, her cheeks warmed. Now, she was horrified to her bones, realizing her assumption was wrong. “My best friends from the pact live the BDSM lifestyle, and you both seem”—she hesitated, then shrugged—“bossy.”
Smith chuckled.
Brock’s grin remained. “You’re safe with us, kitten. We want to give you orgasms, not refuse them.” His smile faded. “Besides, if I, or Smith, physically hurt you in any way you didn’t want, I’d hope you’d have us arrested.”
She relaxed her fists. “You realize, then, if you give me orders and if I respond, it’s not because I’m submissive.”
“A kitten who hisses.” Brock winked with a dark, seductive look. “I like it.”
Smith’s mouth twitched. “It appears your friends are big players in the BDSM lifestyle, since you’re so adamant in pointing that out. But yes, Kyra, we understand you’re not submissive to us.”
Brock added, “You’re more than welcome to boss around right back. In fact, we expect it and would enjoy some interplay from you.” His eyes positively glowed. “We prefer a spunky kitten than a timid one.” His head tilted. “Can we move past this BDSM issue?”
She nibbled her lip, glancing from one man to the other. “Yes, of course.” With her point made, embarrassment crept up. “You were bossy, and I assumed—”
“We wanted a sex slave.” Brock smirked.
“Right, silly,” she muttered.
Months ago, she wouldn’t have accused anyone of such a thing, since she’d never heard much of the lifestyle. But after hearing endless stories of D/s relationships, it seemed her mind just went there, even if she’d rather not. “Perhaps I need to stop listening to my friends’ stories.”
“Perhaps,” Smith agreed.
Brock still grinned. “Now then, since we’ve moved past that interesting conversation, I suspect I won’t forget any time soon, it’s time to get your sweet ass on the desk, kitten.”
While their intention for putting her on that desk was clear-cut, she had signed up for this, hadn’t she? Small talk had been out of the question. She didn’t want to know these men after tonight. She wanted…wham, bam, thank you, two hunks! The less she knew, the better. For whatever reason, she felt emotionally rattled by the men. That if they got too close, she wouldn’t be able to run.
Never get emotionally involved, especially when you’re dealing with fancy men. A lesson she’d learned from working at the PR firm. Tonight she was down to all business. She’d fulfill the pact, live out her fantasy, and never look back. Besides, these two men were hot, and she planned to let the wild part of herself come out and play.
With that mission in mind, she approached the desk. When she reached the l
arge cherrywood desk, she turned to the sexy beasts behind her. Two men, who no doubt planned to devour her. Desire flickered through her.
The contrast between them startled her. Who were the men behind the photos she couldn’t stop looking at? Smith seemed reserved and strong, while Brock appeared playful and arrogant. The mix of the two provided stimulation without any foreplay. As if one man lacked a quality on his own, but together, they were perfection.
A dangerous situation, reminding her to shut her heart down.
She settled her bottom on the edge of the desk, the tips of her high heels supporting her weight. Her skirt rode up slightly on her thighs and she didn’t have to look down to see her garters showed.
Brock’s gaze went straight to her thighs, and his eyes flared with heat. “Stop right there, kitten.” He stood from the couch, slow like a predator ready to pounce. “I do believe some of your clothing needs to go. Don’t you, Smith?”
Two could play at this game of seduction. “Skirt off, then?”
“No, Kyra,” Smith murmured. “Entire outer layer.” His eyebrow arched in a silent challenge. “Unless you’re too shy to undress while we stay clothed.”
Both men approached her with the same controlled power and settled in front of the desk. Shyness had left her the second she signed up for this insane pact and joined the Castle Dolce Vita. One promise she’d made to herself tonight: no holding back.
The fantasy she’d always dreamed of would only happen once in her life. She’d never be so ballsy to do anything like this again. Here, she held her chance to be sexually free with two drop-dead gorgeous strangers she’d never see after tonight. That meant she’d push herself to limits she never would dream to go.
Leaning away from the desk, she steadied herself on her heels, then reached for the first button of her blouse. Smith’s gaze held hers, as Brock’s examination did a full sweep of her body, stopping on her fingers.
With leisurely slowness, she undid each button, her body heating as they watched her.
Once the garment draped open, she pulled the hem of her silk top out from her skirt. She slid herself out of the fabric, placing it behind her on the desk. Under their stares, she realized it wasn’t the act of her undressing turning her on, it was the power in the depths of their eyes.
Smith smiled. One of those I’m about to eat you, dear types of smiles. “You look lovely, Kyra.”
Marley had picked out Kyra’s lingerie for her tonight. The black lace balconette bra made Kyra feel sexier than she ever had in one of her push-ups.
With the aroused masculine gazes on her, Kyra drowned in confidence, and she reached back to unzip her skirt. When the garment pooled at her feet, Brock gave her a full once-over again—more than a study of her, an outright appreciation of the micro black G-string only held together by the two bows laced low on her hips, and her garter belt and stockings.
Kyra paused, glancing at them. When neither of the men said a word, she peeked at their crotches, noticing big bulges. She smiled, loving the moment of control she owned, and the sexual kitten inside purred with pleasure. “Back on the desk, then?”
Smith’s eyes darkened. The brown wasn’t so warm now, but fierce and attentive. “Yes, Kyra, get on the desk.”
Once she obliged him, pressing her bottom against the cool wood, Brock took the final step, closing the distance between them. A charming smile grazed his lips that no doubt won his way into many beds. “Widen your legs.”
She did as asked, and if it weren’t for the appreciation flaring in their eyes, she never would’ve been so bold. Their arousal fueled her bravery. Brock reached toward one bow that held her panties in place at her hip, while Smith took the other. In almost the exact moment, they pulled on the ends, and the light fabric lowered to the desk, exposing her heated flesh.
Kyra couldn’t breathe; being touched by them moistened her lower lips.
Brock removed her G-string, dropping it to join her skirt on the floor. He stared at the junction between her thighs, as did Smith. While Bella had talked Kyra into going to the spa a few days ago, the entire Brazilian wax wasn’t an option. Kyra had settled on a triangle shape of trimmed pubic hair, leaving her to feel like a woman, not a girl.
The men didn’t seem to mind her not bare, since their nostrils flared as they gazed over her mound. Then as both men glanced up the length of her body with hungry looks, something in how they watched her, in a way so ravenous, made her hot. At the same time, emotion she attempted to force away struck her hard in the chest, hitching her breath.
What is it about you two?
Kyra had never been the clingy type. She had never chased after a man. Since seeing their pictures she couldn’t get them out of her head. She’d wondered if their appeal would fade when she actually met them, but that was not the case. They consumed her.
“Let’s see to this problem of yours,” Smith murmured, raising his finger to her mouth. “Suck.”
A slow delicious heat slid low in her belly as she wrapped her lips around his thick finger. She drew his digit deep into her mouth and sucked with a hard pull. The side of his mouth curved when he withdrew his finger from between her lips, her saliva coating his skin.
Brock offered his finger next. She repeated the move, adding a little swirl of her tongue, which made him groan. Hell, she liked playing with the big boys, and these men were two very big boys.
Smith’s touch came first. He slid his hand up her knee and continued his journey to her inner thigh, all the while watching her. As he travelled higher she held her breath, unable to move. His gaze turned hotter, intense. “Kyra, you make me want to fuck you in every way I can.”
She found herself equally affected. Both men were made of dreams. In appearance, they were her type, athletic and handsome, but not too pretty.
Each man had a feature that melted her bones—Smith with his warm eyes, and Brock with his charming smile, which he used in full force as he placed a hand on her opposite thigh. She shivered, as for the first time after fantasizing for so long, she had two men touching her. Brock’s body temperature ran higher than Smith’s, the warmth of his skin burning straight through her.
Smith’s hand never stopped, still slow and measured, making her tremble in anticipation. Brock nudged her thigh when he reached the top of it. “Nice and wide, kitten.”
She widened her legs, craving their hands all over her. She wanted them inside her, touching her, and pleasuring her. The scents lingering in the air around her were confusing, at best. Brock smelled like citrus. Smith held a sandalwood scent. The combination of the two intoxicated her. She couldn’t decide which one to focus on, so she drowned in both.
Smith’s touch neared her lower lips, but Brock didn’t hesitate. He placed his thumb directly on her clit. Her eyes fluttered closed as he swirled the swollen bud.
The mix of Smith’s patient touches and Brock’s determined advances spun her with an incredible force. No doubt these men could turn her world upside down, and tonight, she’d happily allow it.
Brock grunted, a low primal sound, as she circled her hips in time with the movements he made on her clit. She opened her eyes, and the hot-as-hell grin he offered took a turn straight to devilish. “Fuck, you’re sexy, kitten.”
The tip of Smith’s finger teased her slick heat, and her breath whooshed from her lungs. Each swipe of his finger against her slit sent sparks of desire across her hot flesh, filling her with desperation.
She didn’t know much of anything except for the two men focused on her. The intensity in their stares became potent stimulation, driving her wild.
“Ah, now that’s a look we love.” Smith’s smirk was pure sin. “Wicked and greedy.” He slipped one finger inside, removed it to moisten another finger, then pushed both inside with slow precision.
A scorching hot shiver raced through her from head to toe. The pressure on her clit increased as Brock caressed her nub harder. She read in his superior stance he planned to win this bet. Not as if she cared
. If they wanted to use her body to win some testosterone fueled contest, she’d play along.
Quivers and tingles erupted within her. Moans she couldn’t control poured from her mouth. Smith pressed his free hand against her pubic bone when his fingers shifted in and out of her with a gentleness that didn’t match such an intense man. There, in the depths of his eyes, he held a look so sure she’d orgasm, she believed him.
Perhaps she’d never been with men who cared enough, because only one ex-boyfriend had ever brought her to orgasm. Her climaxes always came from her vibrator. However, she didn’t doubt for a second if they continued to give her those heated looks, her orgasm wasn’t that far off. Brock increased the circles on her clit to include pinches and quick flicks.
These men were intent on their mission, as well as damn good at it.
“Sweetheart…” Brock leaned forward, slid his nose against her neck. She shivered under their attack of pleasure as he whispered in her ear, “You’re much more responsive than you think.”
Smith applied pressure on her pelvis, angling her bottom. He wiggled his fingers, then grinned. “We’ll call this one a tie since you’re enjoying Brock playing with your clit.” The authority in his gaze made her heart skip a beat as his voice became as soft as velvet. “The next one is all mine.”
He increased the speed of his fingers, moved in hard and deep, and her breath caught in her throat. Her fingernails bit into the desk beneath her, and she held on to the wood in a death grip, overloaded with sensations. The fast swirls on her clit from Brock, and the hard pressure building inside her pelvis from Smith, all rocked pleasure deep inside her.
Their fingers were notably different in strength and force, and she couldn’t process the contrast. The sensations brought her to a state of incoherence. Her screams became nonexistent, stuck in the haze of her confusion. Now, only pleasure in its richest and highest form assaulted her.
Low in her belly, heaviness formed, and a new need rose, one she’d never experienced. She reveled in the sensation captivating her, well aware of what awaited her.
Bet on Ecstasy (Pact of Seduction) Page 2