Initiative

by Tymber Dalton

  He grinned. “Maybe I’ll make you wear a butt plug tomorrow night. How would that feel? Sitting there, talking with old classmates and knowing that as soon as we finished, you’ll be on your hands and knees in this bed with two cocks fucking you.”

  She whimpered, her own need churning inside her and unable to move to do a damn thing about it. “Yes, Sir.”

  His grin widened. “Ah, there we go. Brain completely disengaged.” He pushed her up into Darryl’s arms and started fucking her, arching his back to thrust his cock deep inside her pussy.

  That did it. Her eyes fell shut as her body clamped down on both their cocks, only Darryl’s arms keeping her upright as she came one more time.

  “Good girl,” Grant gasped, his next thrust the last as he held himself still, his cock emptying inside her. “Your turn, buddy,” he said to Darryl.

  He eased her back down onto Grant and resumed fucking her ass, quickly finishing as his own orgasm hit.

  For a long, timeless moment, the three of them remained motionless. Darryl had his arms braced on the bed, on either side of her and Grant, his lips pressed against her spine.

  Darryl’s voice sounded hoarse when he finally spoke. “I’ll say it first. I love you, Susie. I think I’ve always loved you, and what he said. Like hell I’ll walk away from you unless you tell me to go.”

  She reached up and back, finding his hair and stroking his head. “I love you, too, D.”

  Grant palmed her cheek. “Love you so fucking much it hurts,” he whispered. “Both of you. I never thought this dream would ever come true, but I’m glad it has.”

  It felt good to feel happy again. “Love you, too, Master.”

  Chapter Eight

  Susie awoke the next morning confused, briefly disoriented, sore in all the good ways…

  And draped across Grant’s chest.

  The night slammed into her brain.

  It wasn’t a dream!

  She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath, finally succeeding in holding back her tears.

  Happy ones, for a change.

  A very nice change.

  Until this morning, her usual routine was to wake up after a night of horrible dreams, realize she was stuck in a living nightmare, and struggle not to cry before making her way out of bed and into the cosmic bad joke that was her life.

  It felt so damn good to have the exact opposite problem now.

  And to realize she hadn’t had a single damn dream that night. No bad ones. None that she could remember, at least.

  The solid warmth of Darryl’s body was firmly pressed along her back, his arm draped over her waist and resting on Grant.

  This morning couldn’t get any more perfect.

  Grant nuzzled the top of her head. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  Correction. It did just get more perfect.

  She tipped her head back to kiss him. “Good morning, Master.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re stuck calling me that when we’re alone. I love hearing you say it too damn much.” He wore that smirk, the one she loved so much, as he reached up and stroked her cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “I don’t think words exist to describe how good I feel right now.”

  He reached over to the bedside table and retrieved his phone. “Holy crap, it’s only seven.” He let out a yawn. “We are not normally early risers on Saturdays, if we can avoid it.”

  “Is that the royal we, or you mean both of you?”

  “Both of us.” He held up a hand and pointed over at Darryl. “He usually has to be up early on Sundays, which sucks badly enough.”

  “And he is trying to sleep right now,” Darryl mumbled against the nape of her neck.

  “Sorry,” she said, wiggling her butt against his hips, where his morning woody was now pressing against her deliciously sore ass. “I work a lot of Saturdays. Most Saturdays.” She let out a sigh. “Kind of how I self-medicate. Long days, lots of days. The only reason I take Sundays off is to do my laundry and clean the house and stuff.”

  “Do you have to be at work every Saturday?” Grant asked.

  “No. John and I rarely worked Saturdays. In fact, Kristin usually makes a point of calling me on Saturday mornings to yell at me for being in the office.”

  “Who’s she again?”

  “My assistant.”

  “Ah. I think I like her already.” Grant rolled on top of her. “You cannot work yourself to death.” His intent blue gaze pierced straight through her soul.

  “I know,” she softly said. “I didn’t have a reason not to work before. It helped me…not think.”

  His expression softened and he kissed her before rolling onto his side. “Well, now you have two guys willing to help you not think.”

  “Will you please suck his cock and shut him up?” Darryl grumbled.

  “That’s five,” Grant said.

  “It’s well worth it if I can go back to sleep for a little while.”

  She sat up, staring into Grant’s eyes, awaiting his signal.

  He playfully rolled his eyes. “All right, sure, you can suck my cock if you really want to.”

  She dove under the sheet, enjoying the way he laughed and how it immediately turned into a groan of pleasure as she found and swallowed his cock.

  Did she want to?

  Hell, yeah.

  Of course she did.

  This had been a particularly cherished Saturday—and Sunday—morning routine between her and John. Without anywhere to be they would sleep late, and when she woke up, she would almost always immediately do that to awaken him.

  Grant buried his fingers in her hair, pulling the sheet off her.

  “Look at me,” he hoarsely said.

  She shifted position so she could lock gazes with him.

  “That’s my good girl,” he whispered. “Just like that.”

  Her heart pounded, her soul thrilled.

  Finally.

  Those old feelings filling her when she wasn’t sure if she’d ever again know this kind of joy, this kind of passion.

  “When you get done sucking my cock, baby, you can suck his next.”

  She softly moaned around Grant’s cock.

  His fingers firmly closed around her head, eventually guiding and then taking over, until he was setting the pace, the depth, and she was merely along for the ride at that point.

  She loved it.

  Her world once again correctly aligned, her heart light, her soul free instead of bound by rusting chains of grief and loneliness.

  Salty pre-cum flowed over her tongue. When he started rocking his hips, she knew he was close and prepared herself. It wouldn’t take her long to learn his body, and Darryl’s, too. To be able to read them, know the signs as they got close.

  Her clit throbbed as she anticipated his release. He didn’t disappoint her, his cock growing hotter, harder, just before he let out a soft groan and she tasted his cum filling her mouth.

  She remained in place, gently licking and sucking even as his grip on her head relaxed and he started stroking her hair.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. “My very good girl.”

  Her heart ached in the good way, his words filling her soul, overflowing.

  She’d give up everything to remain in this most perfect of moments, but he found her hand and gently tugged, wanting her back up in his arms.

  He kissed her. “So fucking good, sweetheart.”

  “Hey,” Darryl mumbled. “What about me?”

  “I thought you wanted to go back to sleep?” Grant said.

  “Yeah, well, I did, before I watched that. Now I’m hard. And you said she could.”

  Grant’s smile bore straight through her soul. “Then I guess my good girl better go take care of him, too, hmm?”

  She smiled and rolled over on top of Darryl, laying a kiss on his lips. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, baby.” He grabbed her by the hair and kissed her again, his other hand dropping down to her ass and s
queezing, hard, fingers digging into her flesh. “No regrets, I hope?”

  “Only that I didn’t find you guys sooner,” she said.

  At least Darryl’s sweet brown gaze looked a little less weary this morning than it had yesterday when she set eyes on him for the first time. As if some of the weight upon his soul had lifted.

  She knew the feeling.

  He guided her down to his cock and her eyes fell closed as she reveled in the subspace swirling around her again.

  “Fuck,” Grant said. “That’s a gorgeous sight.” She was aware of him moving, sitting up, the mattress dipping behind her. Then he grabbed her hips and repositioned her, his fingers sliding between her legs. “Ooh, she’s wet.” One, two, then three fingers slowly started fucking her while Darryl reached under her and started playing with her nipples.

  She whimpered around Darryl’s cock, her need slamming into her.

  This. The wonderful, sexy, wanton feeling of being wanted and desired.

  After a couple of minutes, she was close, so damn close, but then Grant’s fingers disappeared, only to be replaced by his cock.

  “Guess you have an effect on me, baby,” he hoarsely said as he slowly filled her pussy. “Get ready to be fucked at both ends.”

  With Darryl now pinching her nipples, and Grant reaching around her to find her clit, it only took seconds for her to explode. Once the men were sure she’d finished coming, Grant grabbed her hips and really started fucking her, hard, driving her onto Darryl’s cock with every stroke.

  Darryl held her head firmly in place and rocked his hips in time with Grant’s thrusts, his cock filling her mouth. All she could do was hang on and enjoy being used for their pleasure at that point.

  And hell yeah, she enjoyed it.

  The men came nearly at the same time, Darryl’s cum filling her mouth as Grant filled her pussy with his.

  Holy hell, she was glad she was still on the pill.

  As the three of them sort of collapsed into a tangled pile on the bed, Grant’s phone went off with a text message alert.

  “Dammit.” He managed to keep his softening cock still embedded inside her as he stretched and reached for his phone, finally snagging it.

  “Corey and Marcy are awake and thinking about breakfast,” he said with a snort after he read the text. He looked at them. “Well? Do you think we can quit fucking long enough to grab showers and get downstairs?”

  “Maybe,” Darryl said. He was now stroking her hair. She still held his soft cock in her mouth, her face pressed against his abs.

  “Maybe,” she mumbled around his limp member, making both men laugh.

  “I’ll tell them to give us about forty-five minutes.” Grant texted a reply. “We do need showers.” He set his phone aside, leaned in, and nipped her shoulder. “And I want to soap up every last inch of your body, sweetheart.”

  * * * *

  Susie wasn’t sure three of them would fit in the shower, but they did. And they even managed to get out of the shower without having sex, although both men’s cocks were showing renewed signs of interest, and her clit had started throbbing again.

  But before he let her get dressed, Grant bent her over the bed, took the paddle, and gave her several stingy whacks that got her all hot and bothered.

  He pulled her to her feet and kissed her. “That’s so all during breakfast you can wiggle in your chair and feel the sting and know what’s waiting for you later.”

  “You’re sneaky, Sir.”

  “And your point is?”

  “Stating the obvious,” Darryl joked.

  Before they got dressed, Grant put Darryl’s day collar bracelet on him. Then he took hers and locked it around her right wrist. When he finished tightening the hex screw, he kissed her wrist.

  “I’ll get you a day collar of my own for you to wear,” he said, “but if wearing this one is a comfort, you’re always allowed to wear it, too.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she said. Today she didn’t want to cry anymore. She wanted to be happy, to enjoy this weekend, this new life. Thank god they lived locally, hell, just a short drive from her.

  I’m so glad I came this weekend.

  Grant cocked his head. “Where’d you just go?”

  She blushed. “That’s spooky.”

  “It’s a Dom thing. Tell me.”

  “I’m glad I came this weekend and met up with you guys again.”

  He smiled and kissed her. “So are we, sweetheart. So are we.”

  Chapter Nine

  After breakfast they returned to the room. Grant could tell both Susie and Darryl wanted to jump right back into playtime, but he wanted to do some talking first before they fucked each other’s brains out all afternoon.

  He sank onto the couch in the suite’s living room and patted his lap. “Come here.”

  She eagerly sat, straddling his legs, a gorgeous, eager smile lighting her features.

  He took her hands in his and held them pressed against his chest as Darryl settled on the couch next to them.

  “We need to talk,” Grant told her. “Seriously.”

  Her smile faded. “Why do I get the feeling this is the buzzkill to what’s been a fantasy come true?”

  “I’m only going to ask you this once, because I don’t want you to have to talk about it more than that, if you don’t want to. But we need to know. How did John die? You mentioned his brother killed him. Why is he working at the dealership?”

  They might as well have smacked her in the face with a block of ice. She rose, shifting positions even as Grant kept hold of her hands. She sat sideways on his lap, resting her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes as she draped her legs over Darryl’s lap.

  It took her a moment to compose her thoughts and downshift from sexy funtime into serious emotionally charged time.

  “Jackass invited John and some friends to go fishing with him. Out in the Gulf. There were eight of them total on the boat. John and four friends, and Jack and two friends of his. For starters, the boat was only rated for six passengers.”

  The men didn’t interrupt her. She didn’t want to look at their faces, to see the expressions of sympathy—and probably anger—that they would go through as she told the story.

  Been there, done that enough times already when she had to tell people what happened. Fortunately now it happened less and less, but there were still people she ran into from time to time who hadn’t heard the full story.

  “It was toward the end of May, and we were in one of those late afternoon storm patterns. The sea breeze was blowing across from the east, and the storms formed over land and traveled west out into the Gulf. I asked John about that, and he said no, it was fine, he’d keep an eye on the weather.” She swallowed back her pain. “I was his good girl so I didn’t argue with him. Now, I wish I had.”

  It took her a moment to continue. “So they went out fishing. It was only a twenty-three-foot boat, an open fisherman. Single outboard engine. It was kind of windy that day, but nothing worse than they’d been out in before, apparently. They were about twenty miles offshore when they had some engine trouble, and then a storm kicked up.

  “Instead of calling Sea Tow, because Jackass didn’t have a membership and didn’t want to pay a hefty tow fee, he thought he could get the engine going. So he wasted time futzing around with it. By the time the weather deteriorated and John and the others finally demanded they call Sea Tow, the seas and wind had kicked up bad.”

  This was the part she hated the most, especially remembering the haunted looks in the eyes of John’s friends as they’d recounted what happened.

  “Sea Tow was on their way but the boat ended up capsizing before help arrived. They were anchored, and the way the current was flowing pushed them crossways against the waves and they swamped. No one is sure exactly what happened next, but when everyone came up, John wasn’t there. They tried to find him and couldn’t.”

  She took a deep, ragged breath. “The coroner thought what happened is that he p
robably hit his head somehow when the boat overturned.”

  She eased one hand free from Grant’s and touched the right side of her head. “Here. There was a huge bruise. And he drowned,” she quietly said before she blindly groped for Grant’s hands again.

  His closed around hers.

  Darryl’s hands stroked her legs, where they were draped across his lap. She didn’t want to open her eyes yet. “They found his body the next morning,” she softly finished. “I’d tried to hold out hope, that maybe the current had pushed him away from the boat. That he’d grabbed a life jacket and held on. That he was coming back to me.”

  Her breath hitched in her chest. “I don’t remember much of the Coast Guard officer breaking it to me that they’d found him. Kristin said I turned and went after Jack and tried to claw his eyes out. Started screaming and crying. I really don’t remember any of that part. Ed and Kristin and the Coast Guard officer had to hold me down. They had to take me to the hospital and sedate me to calm me down.”

  She took a deep breath. “Fortunately, I had Ed and Kristin there looking out for me. They made me snap out of it, made me focus on keeping the business going. I had Ed and Kristin and her husband, Ron. Somehow, I kept going.”

  Grant nuzzled her head. “Why does Jack still work for you?”

  “He worked for us before this. There was a provision in John’s will to assure him a job for a couple of years. John was seventeen years older than Jack. He’d set it up years earlier that way, wanting to make sure Jack was taken care of if his parents weren’t around. Hell, Jack was a teenager back then, just a kid.”

  She finally opened her eyes. “Jack used to kiss John’s ass. John was about the only person who could keep Jack in line. But I talked to Ed last week about the provisions in the will. I didn’t have the mental or emotional strength to deal with getting rid of Jack before now. On Monday, I learned Jack had bitched out one of my service guys over the weekend, just to make himself look big in front of a friend of his. That was the last straw. I took away his company car and gave him a shitty trade-in to drive, and warned him his next step was a demotion to washing cars.”