by Renee Rose
In your dreams, asshole.
Except...yeah. The hand caging her neck had her wetter than she’d been in her entire life. She loved the controlling way he handled her. Hurt-y without harming.
He examined the stinging gash running down her side. It wasn’t deep, but the damn thing kept bleeding. He frowned. “Did I do this?”
Would he be sorry if he had? She suspected he would.
“No.”
The beep of the keycard sounded from front door.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Alex called out.
His twin strolled in, equally sexy in a more sophisticated way. They weren’t identical, but yes, they were certainly twins. Joe appeared clean-shaven and serious where Alex sported an easy, lopsided smile with laugh lines around his eyes. The muscles decorating his broad shoulders were a little more pronounced, not that Joe’s weren’t defined.
Joe gave her a cool, assessing look. Her heart thudded against her ribs. What would they do with her? Alex had mentioned punishment.
She should have researched these guys better. Did they operate outside the law like mobsters? She sure as hell hoped their brand of punishment wasn’t ripping off her fingernails or beating her to death with a sandbag.
“Look who I found rooting through your safe,” Alex said.
Joe walked around her chair, disappearing from her field of vision. When he reemerged, he folded his arms across his chest. “Well, that’s hot.”
She flushed. Oh God, she was so fucked. The Jamison brothers oozed sex appeal and screamed danger. One had already been too much to handle, and now they were both staring down at her like hungry lions.
Her skin prickled with heat.
“Joe, meet our little cat burglar. Ninja girl, Joe, my brother, in case you hadn’t guessed.”
“Watch her while I get something to clean up her cut,” Alex said. He disappeared, taking his larger-than-life presence with him and leaving her alone in their kitchen with the more frightening brother.
Joe filled a glass with ice water and put a straw in it then pushed it between her lips. “Drink.”
The unexpected gesture threw her off-balance. She wanted to refuse—not to cooperate with them in anything, even this—but she’d been thirsty back when she’d been crawling in the air ducts. Now, she was downright parched. She parted her lips and took the straw between them. The cool liquid soothed her dry throat and mouth. She drank down the entire glass. Great, in thirty minutes she’d have to pee and they’d probably still have her zip-tied to a chair. What a perfect torture.
“More?” he asked, holding up the empty glass.
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“Hungry?”
She was starving, actually, but she didn’t trust the solicitousness. This was probably one of those “good cop, bad cop” games where one brother pretends to befriend her while the other scares the shit out of her. Of course Joe was the scary one, so maybe the analogy was off. Either way, she didn’t trust him.
Joe’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out and looked at the screen then back at her with interest. He handed it to Alex when he returned.
“Interesting,” Alex said, studying her with the same open curiosity. He uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and dribbled a stream down her side.
She hissed at the burn.
“She likes pain,” Alex said.
“So I see.”
She bared her teeth, glaring and trying to figure out what made him say that. Oh. Her pelvis had rocked forward, and she’d arched in her chair. But that didn’t mean she liked pain. It just meant she felt pain and her body had reacted...
Alex flicked one of her exposed nipples with his thumb. It was a light touch—not sexual, more degrading than anything. She followed his gaze to look at what he saw—her nipples pebbled up in tight, stiffened buds.
Alex crouched beside her, his fingers wrapped around her throat, and dabbed the blood and peroxide with a hand towel. “She definitely likes being restrained.” He fitted a piece of gauze over the scrape and taped it in place.
“You’re nuts.”
Was she a masochist? For the first time, she regretted foregoing her sexual education in favor of martial arts and burglary. She felt completely out of her element. Yes, she loved fighting, and that often involved pain. She relished the impact of flesh against flesh and she never minded cuts and bruises. But that didn’t mean she got off on pain...did it?
The corners of Alex’s mouth lifted in a smirk. “Am I?” He gripped both thighs, far too close to her crotch to be polite—not that tying her to a chair was polite either—and forced her legs wider. “Look who’s dripping wet.”
Her breath grew short. She didn’t dare look, afraid to see the wet spot he examined. She definitely should’ve worn panties for this job, even if they did crawl up her ass when she crept through air vents.
One of his thumbs traveled up and stopped a centimeter away from her pussy. Its heat registered and made the muscles of her pelvic floor lift and flutter, quivering at the insinuation of contact.
His blue eyes were so damn intent. Was he watching for a green light?
She ought to tell him to get his roving hands off her, but her lips wouldn’t move to speak. Maybe she just needed to know what happened next in the “girl zip-tied to a chair” scenario.
She tore her eyes away from Alex’s to find Joe watched, too, leaning casually against their kitchen counter, eyes glittering. Electricity crackled between all three of them. She arched, wriggling her hips.
“Is this pussy wet for me...for us?”
Jesus and Mary.
His finger contacted her clit through the thin fabric of her pants and made a feather-light circle around it.
She jerked, hard, not that it did any good. She literally couldn’t move.
His eyebrows lifted in a mock-stern expression. “I told you to stop struggling. Keep it up, and I’ll hogtie you. That chair is a luxury, sweetheart.”
A wave of heat swept through her at the threat. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax.
“Good girl.” The words came softly. “We don’t want you hurt.”
“At least not by zip-ties,” Joe amended.
Her tongue struggled to speak. “How do you want me hurt?”
Alex’s finger returned to her clit.
She shoved her pelvis forward, pushing into his touch, needing more.
“I can think of dozens of ways I’d like to hurt you, ninja girl.” Joe’s lips curved in a sexy-sinister smile. “And all of them involve you helpless, naked, and bound.”
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. A wash of both heat and cold spread across her body. She thought of the eyehooks in the bedroom. Yep, kinksters. Both of them.
“The real question is, how do you want us”—Alex looked over his shoulder at his brother—“to hurt you?” He removed his finger from her swollen clit, making her moan with frustration.
She’d be the first to admit her experience with men had been limited. Her father had married Savannah Duke when she was just twelve, and she’d been shipped off to a girls’ boarding school so her stepmother didn’t have to compete with her for her father’s attention.
He’d died during finals of her senior year, and Savannah—the bitch—hadn’t told her until three days later. Skye had been so pissed, so grieved, she’d disappeared to Japan to study judo. She took on an ascetic lifestyle—no men, no friends, really. She wasn’t a prude; men just hadn’t been a part of her path.
Now, quivering under the Jamison brothers’ heated stares, she wondered how she’d escaped sex all these years. Because if she didn’t scratch this itch soon, she was sure she would die on the spot.
“Are you offering me a plea bargain?” Her voice cracked.
Joe folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not offering you anything until all the stolen property is returned. Then we can negotiate appropriate punishment.”
That word again. It made her pussy contract. At this
point, the stolen items were the only leverage she had for her freedom, though. She shook her head. “We bargain first. My freedom for the stolen jewels.”
Joe gave a mirthless laugh. “You’re not in the position to demand anything from us.”
She lifted her chin. “Aren’t I?”
Only she knew where the stolen jewels were hidden.
His face hardened. Alex’s lost the amused benevolence.
Okay, she didn’t want them pissed. Joe was right in that sense—she wasn’t exactly sitting in the catbird’s seat. “I have the jewels—I haven’t fenced anything, yet. But if you call the cops, you’ll never see them again.”
Joe cut his eyes to his brother. “Call Savannah Duke.”
The air left her chest all at once, making it hard to speak. “No,” she gasped. Jesus, no. She couldn’t face the woman under normal circumstances, much less after being caught trying to steal from her. Savannah didn’t need more fuel to humiliate her.
Alex held his thumb poised over the keys on his phone and raised his eyebrows, waiting.
“I’ll get you the jewels. Just”—”her heart thumped erratically, jumping around faster than when she’d been sparring with Alex“—”I just need some reassurances.”
Alex put the phone away, pursed his lips, and looked at Joe, whose face remained implacable. “Like what?”
She licked her lips. “No cops. Complete confidentiality—I want my identity kept from the victims.”
From Savannah Duke.
Joe eyed the leggy blonde. She was undeniably beautiful. According to their photo match, she was none other than Skye Taylor, daughter of deceased billionaire Ernie Taylor, stepdaughter to Hollywood actress and her intended burglary victim, Savannah Duke.
If her little heist had only been about stealing from her stepmother, she had some complicated personal issues going on. Not that any of that mattered to him, so long as all the stolen goods were returned.
Alex was angling for some kinky punishment play, but his interest wavered. Alex knew it and was working on cementing the fantasy. “Jewels returned, no cops, complete confidentiality for both parties, and you submit to our punishment.”
Skye may be frightened, but Alex definitely flipped her switch with the punishment talk. Her nipples stood rigid, begging to be tortured.
Okay, maybe he could be brought around to Alex’s point of view. It would be a hot scenario and the beautiful captive fascinated him.
Skye licked her berry lips. “Please define punishment.”
“Punishment includes but is not limited to spanking, caning, whipping, sexual slavery, anal punishment—” Alex recited.
“No anal punishment,” she broke in.
“That’s a non-negotiable,” Joe shot back. “You stole from my casino, you’re going to take it in the ass.”
The shock on her face made it hard not to laugh.
“Sex will always be protected, and the punishments won’t cause any lasting harm,” Alex said, still working as mediator.
“Wait, now it’s punishments, plural?”
Alex gave her a feral grin. “Yes. You’ll be our prisoner for the remainder of the weekend. We will punish you and use you as we see fit and you will submit to us in everything. Tomorrow night you’ll be our date to the Valentine’s ball. We will release you by noon on Sunday.”
She eyed them warily. “Why do you want me to be your date to the Valentine’s ball?”
The ball was a fundraiser for the democratic presidential candidate, and the reason for the convergence of so many wealthy and famous people at the Magnifico that weekend.
“Because you’re beautiful,” he answered for Alex. “And famous.”
She licked her lips again, a nervous gesture that was starting to turn him on. He could think of quite a few uses for that little pink tongue… “You know who I am.” It was more of a statement of dismay than a question.
“Yes. We will honor your confidentiality, so long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”
Her shoulders slumped. She croaked, “Okay. Please untie me.”
Alex stooped to cut off the zip-ties and gathered her up into his arms, holding her. She shivered and put her hands on his chest. When she tipped her head up, he claimed her mouth, which she opened for his plundering.
Joe watched the exchange, rearranging his hardened cock in his pants. Skye Taylor was a tasty Valentine’s surprise. “I’m going to order room service,” he said to normalize things. “What do you two want to eat?” It was close to eleven now, which was always the time he was ready for a snack, since they generally stayed up for most of the night.
“Anything chocolate.” Skye looked cheered by the talk of food.
Cute. She was damn cute. They’d received a large order of chocolate truffles for the Valentine’s weekend, so he ordered up a box, along with a bottle of champagne. “I’ll draw up a contract.”
BDSM contracts were fun—not so much as a binding legal agreement, more as a form of foreplay and preparing their sub for what was to come.
Skye held the pieces of her torn shirt together to cover her breasts.
“None of that,” Alex scolded, slapping her hands away. “In fact, I would prefer her naked, wouldn’t you, Joe?”
“Clamp her nipples,” he said, playing straight man and not looking up from his laptop. “And spank her before we go—she needs to feel owned.”
“Go where?” Her voice rose at the last word.
“To retrieve the jewels. After we eat, of course. And after your spanking. Go ahead, Alex, strip her, plug her, and whip her with your belt. If she takes it well, maybe let her come.”
Alex’s lips stretched into a smile.
Skye looked ready to make a break for the closest door.
Joe pretended to be blasé over it all and plopped down on the couch with his laptop to work on the contract.
“Take off your clothes.” Alex backed Skye up a few feet, advancing on her with a predatory prowl.
Joe’s conscience pricked. While this situation was hot, coercing an unwilling participant into their fantasy wouldn’t be cool. “Skye.”
She turned her head, a section of pale blonde hair falling across her slender shoulder.
“We can come up with a different option, if you don’t want the cops and you can’t handle this kind of punishment.”
Alex glowered.
Skye’s chin lifted. “I can handle it.”
If Joe hadn’t said the thing about letting her come, she’d be more afraid. Every two minutes, she found herself questioning her sanity. Her hormones must have gone haywire and diverted all the blood from her brain to her core. She fervently hoped her instinct to trust these guys wasn’t off.
Alex stepped closer to her, his large, muscled body invading her senses. He was even sexier up close—the chiseled jawline, sensuous lips. His intoxicating masculine scent made her want to spar with him again. She wanted to feel him take charge of her and bend her to his will.
His eyes locked on hers with a heated gaze. As if he knew she didn’t want to stand there and strip for him like a cowed ninny, he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it up, over her head. “Do all cat burglars wear ninja suits without any underclothes?”
She shrugged, warding off a blush by sheer will. “It makes it easier for crawling in tight spaces.”
His eyes flicked toward the rope still hanging down from the vent. “Well, I approve.” He turned her around so she faced away from him and pushed her torso down over the arm of the sofa.
For a brief moment, she imagined she’d be lucky enough to keep her pants on, but then his thumbs hooked in the waistband and he peeled them down to mid-thigh. Having them lowered rather than removed was infinitely more humiliating. She supposed he knew that.
“I’m going to start with a warm-up, just with my hand. Then you’ll get the plug and the belt. Clasp your hands behind your neck and keep them there.”
She wasn’t even sure what the plug meant, but she could ima
gine. She didn’t want to nicely submit, even though her pussy dripped for the spanking.
Joe idly glanced up from the very same couch she was bent over. Perhaps noticing she hadn’t complied with Alex’s directions, he reached out and grasped her wrists, pulling them until her arms were straight out in front of her, her breasts pressed flat against the suede couch cushion. “She likes to be forced.”
Joe did not send her smoldering glances. His were the opposite—cool, manicured. Unaffected.
“Noticed that earlier. I’m happy to oblige.”
What was it about being talked about as if she were an object that wound her crank so much?
Before she had time to contemplate it further, Alex’s hand crashed down on her bare ass, harder than she’d imagined a simple hand-spanking would be. Good thing she liked pain.
She drew a breath to prepare herself for the next smack. It didn’t disappoint. Her left cheek received the same treatment then the right again. As far as she could tell, Alex didn’t hold back, smacking her poor ass at a rapid rate. Despite her resolve to enjoy it, she didn’t have time to adjust to the pain and her breath caught in her throat with her gasps. She rose to her tiptoes and squeezed her cheeks together as if to ward off the pain.
Not wanting to let them know what a wimp she was, she bit her lips to keep from crying out, pressing her face down into the cushions.
“How’s she doing?” Alex asked, still whaling away on her ass, which quite possibly had burst into flames.
“Mm.” Joe made a noncommittal sound. “She’s hasn’t settled into it yet.”
How in the hell was she supposed to “settle into” having her ass painted red?
Joe slid closer to her, her wrists still caged in his palm. He reached under her and pulled her nipple.
Oh God. It hurt in the very best way. The twin sensations of having her bottom lit on fire and her nipple pinched and pulled wreaked havoc on her sanity. The pain inflicted by Alex took on a different timbre now. What registered as too painful before now morphed into something erotic and exciting. And still, too painful. But good. Hurty good.
Joe moved to her other nipple, rolling it, pulling it, squeezing. “Spank her pussy.”