He found her lips with his, kissed her long and sweet. He loved the flavor of her, the shy eagerness with which she received his tongue and then tasted him in return.
“Don’t be in such a hurry, love. I want to play with you some more. Besides, I have something special in mind. Something I want to try.”
“Yes, try anything. Everything.” Her voice dipped, her hips moved, and he knew she struggled to gather herself, to bear down and force her own orgasm. He couldn’t blame her. When it felt deliciously wonderful, all you wanted was the prize. It was hard to remember there could be pleasure derived from the journey, too.
He moved his fingers in and out of her, and hissed when she wrapped her hand around his cock. Silky here, too, when he wore a layer of latex between his dick and her hand. It made her hand feel as if it had been made of a softer texture than mere flesh.
He thrust into her hand even as he pulled his out of her for a heartbeat. He’d opened the jar of lube earlier and now helped himself to a generous dollop. When he brought his hand back to her, brought it to her opening and pushed, she gasped and went still.
“Alan?” Molly panted and relaxed her legs, letting him have more access.
“Yes, love. Let me just see if I can help you prepare properly for us.”
“Do you need some more lubricant?”
He knew Richard came into the room, but guessed Molly didn’t. He smiled against her mouth when he gave her another fast kiss. He turned to look at his master as the man peeled out of his clothes.
“She’s sopping wet with the lube I’ve already used,” Alan said to him. “Just let me try. Molly, relax your muscles a little more for me, sweetheart.”
When Richard climbed onto the bed on the other side of Molly, Alan relinquished whatever initiative he’d been taking. Richard used her hair to tip her head back so he could kiss her. Alan rubbed his cock against her ass and he felt Molly melt for him.
Alan brought all his fingers together, including his thumb, creating a wedge with his hand. He pressed against Molly’s slit, rotating, rocking back and forth, side to side, all the while keeping the pressure against her steady. A little, then a little more. And then he sighed.
“I’m in.”
* * * *
Oh God. Molly let her head fall back inhaling deeply as shivers of arousal prickled her flesh. Her pussy felt as if it was being stretched beyond endurance, a burning fullness that reminded her of the first time she took Richard’s cock in her ass. And like that time, all she wanted to do was come.
“Don’t move, Molly. And don’t come.” Richard said the words into her ear, but she knew Alan heard him.
“I can’t…I need…” She couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.
Richard chuckled. “We know what you want and what you need. Let me tell you what you’re about to get. Alan and I are going to put our cocks in that delicious cunt of yours…at the same time.”
“Oh God…how…can you?” She knew he heard the excitement in her voice. She’d never imagined having two cocks inside her pussy at the same time.
“Alan is fisting you now, baby. He’s got his entire hand inside you, stretching you.”
Molly whimpered because as stretched as she felt, she felt hotter, more aroused, than anytime she’d ever experienced. She wanted to move but couldn’t. When Alan moved his fingers inside her, she shivered.
“I think that’s good. She’s wet but maybe we’ll use a bit more lube,” Alan said.
Molly didn’t care. She’d never been this high, this horny. She wanted, needed to come. She felt Alan’s hand come out of her, and she wanted to cry.
Richard lifted her left leg over his hips, splaying her wide so Alan could apply more of the silky cream. Then she felt him brush against her folds, his fingers teasing her clit while his hand reached forward.
He pressed Richard’s cock into her and it slid deep, the head of it resting against her cervix. Alan moved closer, and she felt his fingers, felt him maneuvering.
“Oh, God.” Molly worked at relaxing her muscles while Richard reached around and stroked her clit with his fingers. Alan’s cock began to enter her and her vaginal wall stretched, until it felt as it had when he’d fisted her.
“Just a little…oh, yes. There we are.”
Molly moaned for she could feel them both inside her, stretching her. The idea that her pussy could accommodate both her lovers at the same time thrilled her.
“Squeeze us.”
Richard’s command was barely said when she squeezed her perineum, caressing their cocks within her.
He reached down and ran his fingers fast and furious over her clit, teasing, teasing, even as Alan bent down and suckled her.
“Fuck us, Molly. Do it. Now.”
So close to orgasm, Molly moved her hips , not so much back and forth as up and down, tiny little jerky moves that seemed to work as if they lit her fuse.
Higher and higher, her arousal soared until her climax exploded, fierce and electric, a thousand volts racing through her body, making her shake, making her quake as she bore down and gobbled it, sucked in every speck of the searing sensation. She came and came beyond her own ability to react, to control. When the cocks inside her twitched and convulsed, a deep primal growl filled the silence, seeming to take up every ounce of space in the room.
It was only when her orgasm broke, when she began a free fall into the after, that she realized that sound had come from her.
Chapter 16
Molly thought her heart would pound right out of her chest. A shiver wracked her, the aftermath of that fierce climax. Her nipples tightened painfully, and she whimpered.
Richard reached around, cupped her breast, testing the hardness of the pebbled flesh.
“Good one?” He asked.
Molly didn’t think herself capable of speech. She grunted and let them make of that what they would.
She felt Alan slip out of her and then Richard. She sighed when Richard left the bed. She heard him in the bathroom, and knew he disposed of the condom. She could only lay there, boneless, bloodless, a living, breathing wraith for all the energy left in her body.
Richard came back to the bed, got behind her again and snuggled her in close. Alan got up to take his turn in the bathroom. He didn’t come back to bed immediately. Dinner. Likely seeing to dinner.
She drifted for a while in that wonderful place between sleep and wakefulness. Then, finally, her energy began to return.
Alan came back into the bedroom, blew out the candles, and turned off the music. He turned the lights on and Molly blinked in the brightness.
“In the playroom you’ll find an object that will remind you of the box vault you would have used in high school gymnastics,” Richard said. “Only it’s not a vault. It’s a restraining device. It’s lower to the ground so you can drape yourself over it easily and has shackles on each side. These shackles are designed to snap shut once you put your wrists and ankles into them. They can be released by depressing the lever you will be able to reach about a half inch from the right wrist cuff. You’re to go into the playroom, choose a paddle, set it on the chair beside the restraint, and lock yourself in. I’ll be in shortly to paddle you.”
Molly turned and looked at Richard. He met her gaze without flinching. She’d never seen such a serious expression on his face. She hesitated for a moment, weighing her options. She didn’t have to ask him to understand that she had only two. She could obey him, go in, restrain herself willingly and take the spanking as her earned punishment.
Or she could go home and this relationship would be over.
Not really much of a choice at all.
Molly sat up and looked at Alan. He stood by the door of the bedroom where he’d turned on the light. In his expression she could read neither sympathy nor triumph. Only a guarded sort of waiting.
She shivered, feeling very naked and vulnerable where she hadn’t felt that way since last Friday night. She also felt alone and knew that everything that happen
ed in the last week, everything she hoped to have happen in the future, hung on what she did next.
Molly got up from the bed. “Yes, Master,” she said, and then headed toward the playroom.
Inside, the lights shone full force, illuminating every piece of equipment, every apparatus.
The restraint device, which she never saw before, stood exactly as Richard described it. The top of it, where her belly would rest, looked nicely padded and, under the circumstances, would allow for maximum comfort.
She raised her gaze to the far wall where several pieces of equipment hung, waiting. She saw a paddle that resembled the one Richard used on her last Friday night. It reminded her of a ping pong paddle except the handle looked longer and the rounded business end was covered in smooth black leather. She reached for it when another caught her eye.
Similar in size and shape, this one featured a pebbled texture and would, she imagined, hurt a lot more.
Oh God. She watched her hand reach for that paddle as if that hand belonged to someone else. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply. What she felt for Richard and Alan went beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She didn’t think to phone him as he’d asked because, as Alan so correctly guessed, she didn’t take the situation seriously. Not the situation with the serial killer and not the lifestyle her men lived.
She didn’t take their concern seriously when she really should have done.
Paddle in hand, she turned and placed it on the chair. Then she walked to the restraint and placed herself in bondage.
She didn’t have to wait long. She heard him enter and felt a flutter of surprise when he shut the door. He’d dressed, for she could see sock-covered feet and the legs of his jeans.
“Do you know where I was this afternoon, Molly?”
“No, Master.” Molly didn’t know if showing meekness would gain her any points or not. She knew what would follow would be more serious than what she’d received the last time.
“I was at the Sixth Precinct of the police department, visiting my old friend Tom Brady. Do you know why I was there?”
“No, Master.”
“Because my cop instincts—still very acute despite nearly a decade away from the force—have been screaming since Sunday, since I learned that a woman who looked alarmingly like you had been reported missing.”
“You—” Molly stopped, not knowing if he wanted her to speak or simply answer him.
“Go ahead.”
“You’ve been worried about me.”
“Worried? Oh, no, babe. I’ve been way beyond worried. I’ve been scared shitless. My instincts have never lied to me. So while I sat there, visiting my old friend Tom Brady, he showed me photographs of the victims. That’s plural, because they found the body of Patricia Burdette last night. I saw what had been done to those women. And then I called your office and you were gone. No answer from your cell phone. You turned it off?”
“Yes, Master. I don’t use it very often.”
“I told you to call before you left for the day. You forgot.”
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry. I did forget.”
“Now I’m going to paddle you. But not because you failed to obey me and not because you scared the hell out of me. Tell me please, Molly, why I’m going to paddle you?”
She heard it in his voice, the emotion that she’d only glimpsed in him before. This wasn’t a game and he wasn’t playing. He’d told her that, and she’d believed him, but it hadn’t been that solid, down-deep belief that one felt about some things, no questions asked.
That had been her mistake, one she wouldn’t make again. She heard the emotion in his voice and she knew.
“Because you don’t want anything to happen to me. You want to keep me safe.”
“That is exactly right. And I will keep you safe, even if I have to fight you to do it.”
No, this wouldn’t be like the last time, Molly thought. The last time, Richard paddled her because he wanted her and was pissed at himself because of it.
This time he would paddle her because he loved her.
She saw him reach for the device she’d chosen. She heard the swoosh of it racing through the air.
Crack.
Molly cried out, the sting fierce, as the paddle landed on her right ass cheek. Crack. It landed on her left ass cheek and she screamed again.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Her ass felt like it burned and she cried, tears blurring her eyesight. She cried from the pain and she cried because she understood how frightened Richard had been, frightened because of her carelessness.
She didn’t realize he’d released her until he scooped her into his arms. He carried her to the chair and sat with her cuddled on his lap.
Still crying, Molly threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I love you.”
She felt his face against the curve of her neck and, incredibly, realized she could feel his tears as well.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ve always known. I love you, too.”
* * * *
Molly showered and dressed in one of Richard’s shirts. She didn’t bother with makeup, just ran a pick through her hair. Her men were holding dinner for her, and she suddenly felt famished.
She entered the kitchen and smiled when she saw a glass of wine by her plate and a cushion on her chair.
She was grateful for both. Her ass hurt like hell.
Alan got up and gave her a hug. She hugged him in return, then stepped back just a bit so she could look into his eyes and place her hand on his face.
“I’ll apologize to you, too. I’m sorry for my thoughtlessness, that I caused you to worry. I love you.”
“Sweetheart,” he pulled her close, “I love you, too. Now sit and eat.”
Molly sat, and when Richard reached for her hand, she gave it to him. She let Alan dish up her dinner—spaghetti with meatballs and lots of tomato sauce. Richard brought her hand to his lips, kissed it, then relinquished it so she could eat.
“Brady and I went over to Reckless Abandon this afternoon. He got Jordan’s membership list so he can run the names through NCIC.” Richard said.
“Brady thinks this monster could be someone who’s a member? Someone we know?” Alan asked.
Molly felt the shock she could see on his face. The very idea that a killer could lurk in so private a club was something she’d never considered before.
“It’s a place to start. I can tell you from what I saw of what was done to those poor women, Brady’s not off base.”
“I guess that will take a few days? Checking out the membership?” Molly asked.
“Yeah. I didn’t know the club had so many members. Brady’s called in the FBI, and they’re working on getting a psychological profile of the killer, but he doesn’t want to spin his heels, and I don’t blame him. After dinner we’ll catch the news. The mayor is issuing a statement advising women—especially redheads—to be on guard, vigilant.”
Molly sighed. She really regretted she didn’t take Richard’s concerns seriously enough. But two women were dead and someone—some animal—was responsible for that.
“I imagine that’s going to be the cause of some panic,” Molly said.
“And likely some displays of temper,” Alan said.
Richard took a drink from his wine, then turned to face her. He met her gaze steadily. “Until this man is caught, you go nowhere alone. And if he’s still free come Monday, I want you to stay home.”
“Norm will be pissed. I didn’t finish the financial statements today.”
“Can you remote link with your computer at work from here?” Richard asked.
It didn’t surprise Molly that Richard took her concern seriously. His being her master wasn’t an ego trip or a power trip. Half of it was sexual, yes. He got turned on being master, and she sure as hell got turned on being a sex slave. But the other part of it was his caring for and about her. His loving her.
“I’ve never tried, but I don’t see
why not.”
“You can offer your boss that option, then, if he bitches you out about not coming in. But I mean it, Molly. I won’t risk you—even if you feel the risk is a remote one.”
“All right. If he’s not caught by Monday, I’ll stay home, here.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Richard leaned over and kissed her lightly.
* * * *
He sat back sipping his brandy and watched the mayor’s news conference. He smirked when the mayor called him a serial killer.
Good. They have no idea who I really am, what I’m really about.
It gave him a tiny thrill to know women all across the city were in a panic. It made him feel powerful.
But then, he was powerful. He was Bacchus, a god come to earth. In his hand, he held joy and lust.
And punishment.
He laughed as reporters fired questions at His Honor, took in the look of sorrow on the faces of the police, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle.
He would make his move on Monday. He turned his thoughts to his property, to the moment when he would finally have her here under his command. Under his lash and under his leash.
He knew he was more ready for her now than last week. Yes, he would be a much better master to her now.
He let his gaze wander back to the television screen, imagined how shocked they would be when one more woman went missing, and how confused when they found no body, when no other women disappeared.
Serial killer, indeed. He didn’t intend to kill Molly. No, he would train her to his hand, discipline her until she became the perfect submissive, the perfect sex slave. He raised his glass in a mock toast to Richard Grant, his slave’s first master. No doubt that man broke the little slut in, taught her a few things.
When Bacchus completed her training, when she proved herself properly subservient, he might take her back to Reckless Abandon—on a leash and wearing a ball gag, of course. He might parade her in front of Richard and that milquetoast Jordan Fitzpatrick. Maybe he’d even order her to suck her former master off—a kind of parting gift.
Brazen Seduction Page 14