She couldn’t hold back. She couldn’t wait for them to give her permission to come and the fact was—she couldn’t bear to think of such a rewarding experience without provoking an erotic punishment at the end.
“More!” she screamed, her pussy squeezing their shafts as they pumped inside her.
“Don’t come,” Sebastian warned her.
They pounded inside her. Their muscles bulged as they held on to each other for support and parted her slick folds with their thick, meaty cocks.
Oh God, she was in heaven. She was walking on clouds.
She’d never known anything quite so fulfilling and feared she’d never experience such incredible pleasure again. Her head rolled from side to side. She closed her eyes and imagined them loving her, fantasized about holding them close as they ravaged her body, empowered her by loving her with entwined arms and legs, skin against skin.
For now she was bound. For this experience, she could only feel their flesh pounding inside her, rubbing against her only when they so desired the feel of her body against theirs.
And it was heavenly. The loving was an out-of-body experience. The penetrations were savage as the brutal thrusts drove her into a total eclipse of the heart. With each penetration, she became more committed to their needs and their cause. Every mind-blowing thump made her pulse in anticipation of the next and the one after that.
“Ah God!” she screamed, letting go as they pounded their heavy cocks inside her.
“That’s it,” Wyatt said, working his hips more and pushing his cock deeper inside her.
“Go ahead and take it, sub,” Sebastian rasped, jerking as the words fell from his lips.
Screams of pleasure resounded. Theirs and hers collided in a passionate joining of bodies as they pounded inside her cunt and left her squeezing their shafts, pulsing around them, and totally submerged in the power of passion she’d dreamt about, but never fully enjoyed. Until now.
* * * *
Sebastian and Wyatt entered the dining room to a round of applause. Lunch was being served and Jaelon had apparently made excuses for their absences, going as far as explaining the rattling of the chandelier above the table. As luck would have it, Sebastian’s bedroom was on the second floor, right above the dining room table.
Wyatt didn’t know if he should take a bow or just bow out and return to bed, but Sebastian, on the other hand, clearly took it all in stride. “We were pleasantly detained. How’s the pasta salad?”
Cherie stared at them blankly and picked up her fork. Her demeanor was somewhat alarming. Cherie normally would’ve been gouging them. Instead, she looked distant, disconnected even.
The short, pudgy man seated next to her glared at her fork, staring at the utensil as if he thought he could will the fork away from her hand.
Right before she took a hearty bite, the man cleared his throat and slapped his hand over hers. “Wait until I’m finished.”
Clearly rattled, Cherie dropped her fork and stared at her plate. Jaelon, who was standing behind the couple, directed his attention to Sebastian. “Mr. Ketchum, I need to speak with you and Mr. Clanton at your convenience.”
Sebastian sighed, apparently resigned to the fact Jaelon wouldn’t return to work until he’d had a word with Wyatt and Sebastian. After excusing himself from the table, he motioned for Wyatt and they followed Jaelon to the service kitchen.
Immediately, Sebastian’s eyes fell to the floor. “Jaelon, whose shoes are you wearing?”
“Oh these old things?” he drawled, waving his hand in front of his face. “I’ve had them for nearly a decade.”
“Jaelon? Where’d you get them?”
“I promise, ask Miss Cherie. She’ll tell you. She gave them to me last year.”
“Which is it? Last year or nearly a decade?”
“Last week,” Jaelon finally said. “But they were a gift from Cherie.”
“Why do I have a feeling this conversation has something to do with Cherie?” Wyatt asked, very understanding of Jaelon’s simple-minded mentality.
“Miss Cherie was brutalized,” Jaelon said, swinging his arm behind his back and pointing his finger toward the dining room. “That man? That man she’s with? He paddled her. He struck her in the face and he paddled her behind.”
Sebastian crossed his arms over his chest and released a heavy breath. “Jaelon, we’ve discussed this in the past. These parties we host are different than what you’re accustomed to. The guests in attendance are here because they enjoy certain activities, some of which include spankings.”
“He hit her in the face with a paddle!” Jaelon wailed.
Sebastian shook his head in disbelief. “You saw this?”
“Yes.”
“When?” Wyatt asked, fury consuming him.
Cherie was a friend. He wouldn’t stand by and let someone abuse her.
“When I was hiding in her closet,” Jaelon admitted. “I think she knew I was there. Maybe not. It’s hard to say. She might have known. We could ask her.”
“Why were you in Cherie’s closet?” Sebastian asked.
Wyatt leaned against the kitchen island and observed. Sometimes he wondered how Sebastian managed to keep his patience in check.
“I can’t remember.”
“So you were in her closet picking off another pair of shoes?”
Jaelon blushed.
“Oh God,” Sebastian muttered, glancing at Wyatt.
Jaelon yanked down the side of his slacks and waggled his brows. “I love her thongs. What can I say?”
“Pull up your pants for God’s sake. You’re in the kitchen.”
Wyatt cleared his throat. “So tell us about Cherie and her friend.”
“He is not her friend. He abused her.” Jaelon slung his arm behind him again. “I will not serve that man if he stays. I saw him. He struck her in the face with a paddle.”
“Then what happened?” Sebastian asked.
“He said if she wanted to be rewarded for her time, she’d accept whatever he gave her. He said something about a bonus, too.”
“What kind of bonus?” Wyatt asked, stepping forward.
Sebastian shook his head. “Don’t listen to this nonsense. Cherie’s time was purchased by Vince Littleton. He has a very good reputation in the community.”
“I’ll check that out with Cherie,” Wyatt said.
“You’ll cause a scene is what you’ll do.”
“Ask me if I care.” Wyatt dragged Jaelon to the door. “Play along with this.”
Wyatt entered the dining room and approached Cherie and Vince. “I apologize for the interruption, Mr. Littleton, but I believe we have a slight problem. Would you and Cherie please come with us?”
“Certainly,” Vince replied, tossing his napkin to the table and eyeing Jaelon suspiciously.
Once Cherie and Vince followed them to the kitchen, Wyatt pointed at the shoes Jaelon was wearing. “Cherie, are those your shoes?”
Cherie looked at Vince then ducked her head.
“Would you ask her to respond?” Wyatt realized Cherie and Vince had already set a few boundaries and rules.
“Respond to the nice man, kitten.” He stroked her head. “Be a nice little sublet.”
God, Wyatt already disliked Vince Littleton regardless of his glowing reputation. Wyatt and Cherie were dear friends and he would not stand by and watch this man belittle her. Whenever she participated in these events, she often brought in top dollar, but she always managed to end up with a jerk. Wyatt wouldn’t allow her to lose her self-respect in the name of charity or for any other reason.
“The shoes are mine,” she said, avoiding eye contact with Jaelon.
“Mr. Littleton, can I have a word with you?” Wyatt asked, ignoring Sebastian’s daring glare and guiding Mr. Littleton to the pantry.
“You heard her. The shoes are hers. What more could you want? I’d like to return to my lunch.”
“Yes, I want you to do that. However, we have a few rules here. I’d like for C
herie to take a moment and explain to Jaelon why he can’t pick up things that don’t belong to him. She’ll be right out, if that’s okay with you.”
“How can I refuse our host?” Vince narrowed his gaze on Sebastian as if he wanted to intimidate him. He pushed by Wyatt and said something to Cherie in passing.
Once he was out of the kitchen, Sebastian asked, “What’s up with that guy, Cherie?”
“He’s a douche bag.”
“We gathered that much,” Jaelon said, crossing his arms and tapping the toe of his shoe.
Sebastian stared at Jaelon in disbelief. “Please stop.”
“Did he do that to your face?” Wyatt asked, ignoring the tension between Jaelon and Sebastian.
“It’s nothing,” she said, brushing her knuckles over the contour of her cheek. “A little rough play. That’s all.”
“How much did he offer you, Cherie?”
“What are you implying?”
“How much?” Sebastian persisted, raising his voice.
Cherie shot Jaelon a sideways glance. “I knew you had the damn shoes.”
“This isn’t about footwear, Miss Cherie. He hurt you. I saw him.”
Cherie scrubbed her hair with her long fingernails. “A hundred grand.”
“What did the fee entail?” Sebastian asked, his notorious temper coming to the fore.
“A little rough play, anal, forced seduction, and waking up to penetration at various times during the night.” She cleared her throat. “I can’t say no at any point or the hundred thousand is off the table.”
“So in essence, he can rape you anytime he wants.”
She waved her hand in front of her face. “Oh please, Sebastian. You can’t rape the willing. I agreed to all terms before we signed off on the charitable donation.”
“Explain,” Sebastian said, his tightly drawn fist more than obvious.
“We agreed to anything goes before we went upstairs. Last night, as soon as we entered my suite, he shoved me to the bed and fucked me. There wasn’t any foreplay, there wasn’t anything romantic or fun about it. As a sub, I sure didn’t learn anything valuable.”
“What else?” Wyatt pressed, pissed the fuck off now.
“I heard him talking to someone last night and there was some name dropping. I overheard him mention Sweden.” Her nostrils flared as she spoke of her former Dominant. “Vince tried to play it off like he was talking about Sweden the country, but I didn’t believe him. I had heard him say, ‘Hello, Sweden,’ and then he mentioned that I was everything Sweden had promised and more.”
Sebastian scrubbed his cheek. “You’re sure?”
“Don’t ask dumb questions, Sebastian. I’m positive.”
“This isn’t good,” Wyatt told him.
Sebastian paced. “I can’t imagine having this kind of sorry luck.”
“I’m totally lost here,” Jaelon said. “Who is Sweden?”
Sebastian, Wyatt, and Cherie swapped glances.
“We don’t need this shit, Sebastian,” Wyatt said, turning to Cherie then. “And you know better than to take money at these functions. What were you thinking?”
She shrugged flippantly. “I didn’t want to ask the two of you for money. You’ve been good to me already, but a hundred grand is enough to pay off my bills and start a life for myself.”
“At what cost?” Wyatt asked. “Your life?”
“You know the possible dangers here if Vince is affiliated with Sweden.”
“Who is Sweden?” Jaelon asked again, stamping his foot and breaking off the heel of one shoe.
“Great,” Cherie grumbled.
Jaelon popped his hand over an open mouth and stared at the disconnected pointed piece. “I’m sorry, Cherie.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered, returning her focus to Sebastian. “And don’t you worry about me.”
“Cherie, this is more than about you. This sort of thing casts a light of suspicion on the entire community,” Sebastian said, stalking the dining room.
“Hang on there, Sebastian,” Wyatt said, but there was no deterring him.
There was no way to stop a locomotive after the train left its station and no way to predict its path after an unpredicted derailing. All Wyatt could do was stand back and watch for an explosive conclusion.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kimberly finished dressing and picked at her fruit tray. Sebastian and Wyatt had invited her down for lunch, but after the loving she’d experienced and the distorted emotions they’d stirred within her, she declined the invitation. Now, her stomach rumbled with the reminder. Fruit, muffins, and juice rarely satisfied a freshly fucked woman. She needed protein.
Meaty cocks came to mind.
She grinned at the thought and stepped in front of the mirror. She wasn’t sure why Ansley packed her version of a little black dress, but it must’ve had something to do with the cleavage. The dark navy-blue cotton slipped over her body and hugged her like a bear with its material wrapped around her shape in a tight hold. She felt as if every thread clung to her muscles.
The low neckline shaped her breasts and while the fabric was plain, her C cup looked heavily enhanced. Now if she just had a few pieces of jewelry to accentuate the neck, she’d be set. And two fellows would be toast.
Again she grinned. God help her, she was sure smitten by those two.
The bedroom door slammed behind her.
“I was just thinking about you,” she said, wheeling around to face them.
“Wonderful, Miss Cartwell,” the man said. “That makes two of us. I was just thinking about me, too.”
“Who are you?” Kimberly asked, watching as the man retrieved a handkerchief from his blazer. A second later, not even a second, he pulled free a small vial. Dousing the handkerchief, he traipsed across the carpet, taking calculated steps.
She opened her mouth to scream, but she had responded too late. A hard hand fell across her mouth and her world started spinning. Then, it went dark.
* * * *
“Where’s Littleton?” Sebastian asked, entering the dining room.
“He excused himself,” someone said, pointing to his obviously vacant seat.
“Where?”
“He went upstairs, Sebastian,” one of the waiters replied.
As if everything registered at once, Sebastian stalked the stairs. “Wyatt! Hurry! He’s headed for Kimberly!”
How he’d known that Kimberly was already in the clutches of danger, why he’d even suspected, was something he’d never be able to explain, but in that moment he was certain. About that time, the Texans met him on the steps. “What is it, Sebastian?”
“Help us find Vince Littleton,” he said in passing.
“Sure,” they said in unison, turning to follow Sebastian back upstairs. When they topped the steps, Sebastian pointed to the right. “Follow that hall. Check every room. I need to find him.”
“Kimberly!” he yelled, stomping toward his bedroom.
Wyatt was behind him when he came to an abrupt halt. Jiggling the doorknob, he pounded the panels with his free fist. “Kimberly! Open up!”
“Shit!” Wyatt screamed, backing up a step then throwing his weight against the door.
“That won’t work,” Sebastian informed him. “This house was built for privacy and protection.”
“Fuck privacy and protection!” Wyatt bellowed, backing up against the opposite hall and rushing the door again.
This time, the door gave and they broke into Sebastian’s locked bedroom. “Kimberly!”
While Wyatt checked the bathroom, Sebastian rushed the bay window. He searched the lawn, looking for signs of Littleton and Kimberly.
“Shit!” he screamed, darting for the hallway. “He’s got her! He just threw her in the trunk of his car!”
“What?” Cherie was on the stairs when he ran past her.
“It’s Kimberly Cartwell. Vince Littleton just left here with her. I saw him throw her in the trunk of his car. Someone call 9-1-1.
And no one leaves here! Do you hear me? No one!”
Cherie quickly nodded and Sebastian raced for the service kitchen. He snatched two sets of keys from the hook located next to the back door. Tossing one set at Wyatt as he caught up with him in the driveway, he said, “North. Take I-26 toward Asheville.”
“We’ll find her,” Wyatt said, digging in his pocket.
“I pray to God you have your phone,” Sebastian said, realizing Wyatt rarely kept in touch with anyone enough to worry about carrying his cell.
“Got it,” Wyatt said, rushing the black sedan parked in Sebastian’s garage.
By the time Wyatt backed out of the garage, Sebastian was bumping his sports car into fourth gear, flying down the driveway in hot pursuit of Vince Littleton and the woman he was terribly afraid he might lose before he had a chance to love her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hours later, they returned defeated, broken, and blaming themselves. Wyatt didn’t have to ask, he could see it all over Sebastian’s face. He realized he’d missed something when he’d performed background checks on his guests. The Elite Gentleman’s Club had allowed a membership for a man who had ulterior motives when he joined their ranks.
Jaelon and Cherie met them in the foyer. Sebastian handed Jaelon his umbrella in passing and stopped short of entering the study. Cocking his head as if he were listening for something in particular, he said, “It’s surprisingly quiet.”
“The party moved to the Rockwell estate,” Cherie informed him. “All the guests were interviewed here then escorted over to the Rockwells’ for further questioning.”
“This is a nightmare,” Sebastian said, dragging his hand down his face.
“Has anyone notified the Cartwells?” Jaelon asked.
Sebastian stared at him blankly. “Are they here?”
“No,” Jaelon replied, dumbfounded.
“Then you can bet your sweet ass no one has told them.”
Wyatt’s thoughts exactly.
“I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” Cherie said, dropping her head. “This is all my fault.”
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