“I’m glad to see you remember how to get in position.” Brody’s voice echoed through the room. “But I’m not ready for that yet.”
Brody walked over and grabbed my ankle. He sat down and pulled me across his knee with my ass underneath his palm.
“This ain’t for you—this is for me.” He lifted his hand and brought it crashing down.
SMACK!
“I always liked watching you squirm—got me hard as a rock before I fucked your freshly spanked ass.” He chuckled and brought his hand down again.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“I had to hold back though. I couldn’t spank you hard enough—or long enough.” His hand came down several times in rapid succession.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“I kept hoping you’d fuck up—do something that would earn you a real spanking—one that would leave your ass cherry red. Now you have—and the hardest spanking in the world isn’t enough punishment.” He lifted his hand and gave me several really hard smacks.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Start screaming princess—make me hard so I can enjoy this.” He growled, and I felt his hand again.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I hoped that he would spank me all night—that the most brutal punishment he could lay on me would be enough to earn some semblance of forgiveness. I knew that wasn’t the case. His hand made my ass sting and he kept going until it burned. I squealed, screamed, and writhed on his knee, but I didn’t ask him to stop—not that I really could have with the gag in my mouth. I wanted to endure the punishment—I would have begged for more if I could speak. Rourke might not have felt like there was a punishment harsh enough for my betrayal, but Brody had no problem making me suffer for my sins—or at least making me suffer so he could get off.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Get on the bed—you know what position you belong in.” Brody shoved me off his knee.
Yes—Master. I nodded, wishing I could call him that—wishing I deserved to call him that.
“This won’t be gentle.” Brody crawled behind me and started pushing his cock into my ass.
I knew it wouldn’t be. I didn’t deserve gentle. He pushed his cock into my ass and started thrusting before I even had time to adjust. There was a time when I was able to take him easily because of how often he wanted it—how often I wanted them both inside me at the same time—but it had been a year—a lonely year. I hadn’t been with anyone at all, much less engaged in the kind of stuff I did when they were my Masters. His thrusts got more vigorous and he smacked my ass several times as he hammered himself into me. My ass had been spanked until it felt like there was a lit match on my flesh, but I needed more—I needed him to brutalize me—to destroy me for my betrayal. I didn’t get that. I just got his lust until he was finished and unloaded inside me.
“I guess you can sleep now.” He pulled out and slapped my ass. “Unless one of us wants more before morning.”
I pray that you do. I’ll take anything if it means I’m close to you.
Brody
Present day
“Are you even going to be able to go through with it?” I walked into the living room and spoke softly so that only Rourke could hear me. “If we have to actually kill her?”
“We’re not going to kill her.” Rourke shot me an angry glance. “We’re just going to scare her a little bit and get what we need to prove our innocence.”
“She’s not going to betray her father.” I poured myself a drink. “There’s no fucking way. She keeps trying to apologize to us, but not once has she offered to make it right.”
“Yeah, I know.” I nodded. “She tried to talk me into running—as if I want to spend the rest of my life looking over my fucking shoulder.”
“So, what are we going to do? Get a video of her confession when she doesn’t know we’re recording her?” I looked over at my burner phone and lifted the glass to my lips.
“No.” Rourke shook his head back and forth. “I know where I fucked up with her and I won’t make that mistake again.”
“What do you mean?” I raised my eyebrows.
“I never broke her—not properly.” Rourke walked over and poured himself a drink, tapping his finger on the table in contemplation.
“I don’t know about all that shit man. I like to see her squirm and light a fire on her ass, but that’s as far as it goes.” I shrugged. “This whole Master thing—the really kinky shit. That’s all you.”
“Yeah, and I fucked it up.” Rourke exhaled sharply. “I kept looking into her eyes—feeling that connection—and I held back. I always held back. I should have never let her call me Master when she was just doing it because I liked it. It should have been from the soul—not because she was horny.”
“So—what then? You’re going to break her now—in this cabin? We can’t stay long. At some point, a hunter will wander by—or a game warden.” I sipped my drink. “I’d prefer to just get the fucking confession and be done with it. If you’re going to start breaking her, you better get a move on it.”
“You underestimate me, Brody.” Rourke narrowed his eyes at me. “I’ve already started.”
Two years ago
“I thought you gave up on building your playroom—especially in this dump.” I walked into the spare bedroom and raised my eyebrows when I saw Rourke hard at work.
“I didn’t have a reason to keep going. None of the girls that we have been bringing home can appreciate it—now I have someone who can.” Rourke started dragging a bench to the middle of the room.
“You think the princess is going to let you strap her to that thing.” I walked over and picked up one of his leather whips. “Or let you use this on her?”
“She won’t just let me—she’s going to beg for it.” He nodded and stood upright after positioning the bench. “I’ve seen the look in her eyes every time she shows up here—she’s looking for someone to make her beg.”
“She doesn’t like being told what to do.” I shook my head back and forth. “I don’t see that changing just because you give her a spanking.”
“You’re the one who likes to spank the girls and make them cry.” Rourke winked at me. “My approach is a little more—delicate. It’s emotional—visceral.”
“Visca-what?” I raised my eyebrows. “Stop using words you don’t even know the meaning of—you grew up on the South Side just like me.”
“It’s complicated.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’ll need your help though. If I’m going to turn her into the good little submissive girl she wants to be—unless you’re ready to move on to next chick and leave this one to me.”
“Fuck no.” I shook my head back and forth. “There isn’t a girl in this city that has a pussy that sweet—certainly not one on the South Side. As long as she keeps walking through that door, I’m going to keep putting my dick in her.”
“How romantic.” Rourke scoffed.
“I don’t do romance. You know that.” I turned and started walking towards the door. “I still don’t think she’s going to like being told what to do though…”
“You’re wrong.” Rourke chuckled. “She just hasn’t had anyone tell her the right way.”
It had been a month since I first saw Anabelle at O’Malley’s Pub and approached her. I never expected the girl that looked like she was made of money to actually come home with me. I certainly didn’t expect her to keep coming back. I was starting to worry though because it didn’t look like she planned to stop making that trek to the South Side of Chicago anytime soon. That meant trouble because her daddy dearest was going to figure out where his little princess was running off to eventually. I wasn’t necessarily afraid of Adrian Prescott, but I knew what he was capable of.
And now Rourke’s building a damn playroom for her. What’s next? Will she start leaving her f
ucking toothbrush in the bathroom?
Rourke liked playing games with the girls he brought home—testing their limits—seeing what lurked beneath the surface. I didn’t really get off on that. I was dominant enough in bed with the palm of my hand—a whip wasn’t necessary. I didn’t think Rourke’s gut was telling him the right story about Anabelle though. She wasn’t like the other girls and she certainly wasn’t going to kneel—or beg—or any of the other things he liked. Not unless she was begging for one of us to fuck her harder—she loved doing that.
A few hours later
“Princess…” I opened the door and took a step back when I saw Anabelle walking up the steps.
“I really wish you two would stop calling me that.” She looked down, but I saw a grin on the edge of her lips. “I missed you.”
“Did you now?” I put my hands on her hips and slowly moved them down to cup her ass. “I bet you can guess what I missed.”
“Yeah…” She looked up and our eyes met. “Is Rourke here?”
“He had to run out and pick up a few things from the store, but he’ll be back soon.” I squeezed her ass a little harder. “We can get started without him though—no reason to wait.”
“That sounds good to me.” She nodded, and I pulled her close for a kiss.
Fuck, I love feeling her lips on mine.
I might not have had any intentions of settling down, but I couldn’t deny the attraction that I had for Anabelle. It wasn’t love—not exactly. It was just a desire that coursed through my veins that made me want to have her close—to forget about everything her father could do to us when I had her in my arms—fuck, maybe that was the closest I would ever get to love. Rourke was falling though. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at her—the way he brought her up when she wasn’t around. The playroom proved that, to me at least.
“You know we’re not going to be able to do this forever right?” I pulled back from our kiss and held her in my arms. “This isn’t your world—nor is it ever going to be good enough for a woman like you.”
“Let me worry about that.” She let her head fall against my shoulder. “I just want to be here with the two of you tonight.”
“Where does your Daddy think you are? Another night at Samantha’s house?” I chuckled under my breath.
“He’s busy with work. He barely notices me when I’m there, much less when I’m gone.” She leaned back. “He won’t do anything to hurt you if he finds out—I won’t let him.”
You might think you have him wrapped around your finger, but I assure you—you’re wrong.
I took Anabelle to the couch and our lips seared together as we started to slowly get undressed. She rubbed herself against my cock, making me hard as a rock. We didn’t get very far before Rourke got back. He gave us a little shit about starting without him, but then he joined the party. He had started to get a little rougher when we were together—rougher than I normally was, which should have been a warning sign. He was testing her—seeing what she liked—building up to the moment when he introduced her to his world.
If she gave in to that, then it was going to be extremely hard for him to ever let her go. I wasn’t sure where that would leave me. It was fine to share her with him if she was just a piece of ass, but if he was letting her into his heart, then that would eventually have to come to a stop. She was so fucking delicious—I didn’t want to give her up unless I had to, but Rourke was my best friend. I wouldn’t stand in the way of love.
We were just about to take things to the bedroom when there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” I grunted and tried to hide my engorged cock as I stood.
“Careful…” Rourke shifted Anabelle to the side.
He’s thinking the same thing I’m thinking—it could be the moment we’ve been dreading.
“Oh, it’s for me.” I peeked out the curtain. “I’ll be right back.”
The man on the other side of the door was named Reggie Veal. He was another South Side kid, but unlike us, he made it out. He wasn’t the one who wanted to see me though. He was just a messenger. I stepped outside, and he motioned for me to follow him—to a car that was parked at the end of my street. I knew who was inside—so I walked around to the passenger side and climbed into the backseat.
“We really need to find a better place to meet.” The older man wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like having to come all the way to the South Side.”
“Well, with all due respect.” I tilted my head to the side. “You’re the one asking for the favor—Mr. Weber.”
“I suppose I am.” He nodded. “I’ve got another job for you.”
“What is it this time? Need me to crack another skull so you don’t have to get your hands dirty?” I leaned back in my seat.
“No.” He shook his head back and forth. “I need you to track someone down—a woman named Hannah Clark.”
“Ex-girlfriend?” I chuckled under my breath.
“Not exactly.” He shook his head back and forth. “I’ve got everything you need on this flash drive.”
“Yeah, I don’t have a computer.” I stared at the rectangular device he dropped in my hand.
“Then buy one.” He grunted and dug his hand into his pocket. “Or steal one—I don’t give a fuck. Just find her.”
“Okay.” I nodded and shoved the flash drive into my pocket.
“By the way, was that Adrian Prescott’s daughter I saw at your door earlier?” He narrowed his eyes at me.
“That’s none of your business, Mr. Weber.” I opened the door and slid out of the car, turning back to face him once my feet were on the ground. “And if you want me to keep working for you, it needs to stay that way.”
Anabelle
Present day
I was alone in the darkness, denied any form of affection—not that I deserved any. I started wondering what was going on in the outside world—away from the cabin. Was Steve alive? Did Brody and Rourke kill him after they knocked me out? What about my driver? I hoped they didn’t lose their lives because I was a heartless bitch that betrayed the only two men who ever truly cared about me. I wanted to believe that my father cared, but did he really? Maybe he cared in his own way, but not the way that mattered. He forced me to tear my heart out of my chest and stomp on it, just so he could have his freedom.
But it was more than that. Rourke said my father knew about our relationship before I told him. Was the entire thing a setup from the beginning? It couldn’t be… My father wouldn’t do that to me. Would he? Did I really know the man who raised me? He preached family—but that went both ways. If I was expected to put it above everything else, then he was supposed to do the same.
One year ago
“Anabelle, can you come in here for a minute?” My father leaned out of his study and motioned for me to enter.
Oh lord, what does he want now?
“What’s up?” I walked in with my politest, most innocent smile—one that didn’t reflect the fact I was trying to sneak out of the house and head to the South Side.
“Close the door. We need to talk.” He took a seat behind his desk.
“Okay.” I nodded and pulled the door closed.
This sounds serious.
“Sit down.” He motioned to the chair in front of his desk.
“Yes sir.” I walked over and sat down, feeling like a kid in trouble—the way I often did when he said we needed to talk.
“I’ve never really discussed business with you, but that’s going to change tonight—because I have a problem.” He exhaled sharply. “I just found out that John has been stealing money from me.”
“What?” I blinked in surprise. “John’s one of your closest friends.”
“No, he’s a business partner.” He shook his head back and forth. “I don’t mix business and friendship.”
“But—you spend so much time together.” I tilted my head in confusion. “I assumed you were friends.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about m
e.” He reached up and started loosening his tie. “But you’re not a kid anymore—you’re a woman now. It’s time that I started including you—and probably time for me to find you a husband that will give you the support you’ll need to manage things once I’m gone.”
“Gone?” I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean? You’re okay right?”
“Physically, yes.” He nodded. “But the business I’m in—it requires me to make certain choices—and when someone stabs me in the back, I have to take action. If I don’t, then it’ll make me look weak and weakness is what makes kingdoms crumble—I’m sure you understand that.”
“I do.” I nodded in agreement, thinking back to some of the lessons my tutors had taught me. “But, this business about a husband. I don’t want to get married…”
Certainly not to someone I don’t know—I doubt he’d appreciate my extra-curricular activities with Brody and Rourke.
“Prescott’s don’t get to choose who they marry.” He shrugged. “I learned to love your mother, God rest her soul, but she wasn’t the one I was in love with when I was your age.”
“We can talk about that later.” I waved him off and shook my head. “What are you going to do about John?”
Definitely, need to change the subject or else I’ll get angry—I don’t plan on marrying some guy I don’t love.
“That’s a bit of a conundrum.” He reached for the bottle of whiskey that was always on his desk and poured a glass. “I don’t know who I can trust, because anyone that I’ve done business with has also done business with John. He’s been stealing money from me for a long time—I just trusted him too much to see what was right in front of my eyes.”
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