by Anya Summers
"You know what we want, Kara. What we would like to know is whether you have come to a decision regarding our offer. Have a seat, and will discuss it," Zeke ordered, pointing to the unoccupied chair between the two of them.
Unwilling to budge or show weakness of any kind, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And if I don't?"
How dare Zeke treat her like she was already theirs? Did he think she'd capitulate this easily or was that much of a pushover? She understood Dom behavior, but she had not agreed to anything yet, and the fact that he acted as if he was her Dom infuriated her. She eyed the bathroom door, wondering if she should just go back inside and refuse to come out until they left her room.
"Try it, and see how far you get," Zeke warned, reading her intentions on her face. She cursed her inability to hide her emotions. She'd never had a good poker face and Zeke knew her well enough that he picked up on her body language with ease. Chase didn't interrupt their verbal sparring, only watched with hooded desire. She wondered who was the more lethal of the two? Zeke with his forthright attitude, or Chase with his simmering undercurrents.
Zeke's words enraged her. She couldn't have stopped her flippant words as they poured from her mouth if she'd tried. "Oh, really? What the fuck are you going to do about it? I'm not the one who lied to my partners, only to ambush them on the eve of one of their company's biggest jobs, and try to force them into a decision. I don't feel like sitting anywhere near you, thank you. I want you out of my room."
"No one is trying to force you into anything," Chase stated, attempting to be the peace keeper.
"Oh no? Bullshit. You're a bunch of lying assholes. I'm not doing this with you right now. We have a wedding to plan. And I've never lied to you."
"Kara," Zeke warned with a tick in his jaw, "now who is lying? You desire both of us. I've seen it with my eyes. Your face flushes and you lick your lips. I've even seen you bite your lip when you look at Chase."
Her back up against a wall, she denied her obsession with them and sputtered, "I do not."
"That's it. This little charade ends now." Zeke moved without warning, his hand shackled her wrist and he yanked her across his lap. Even a rattlesnake warned you before it struck, but not Zeke. The impact of her midsection against his muscular thighs drove the air from her lungs. He had her robe up over her head, her bottom bared to both himself and Chase, before the shock hit her system.
"What the hell do you think you are doing? Zeke, let me up," she screeched, fighting off his hold. Never mind the fact that her bare butt was on display for both of her partners, or the skitters of excitement that raced in her veins; her brain choose option three and attempted to wrestle from his iron hold.
Kara bucked and wriggled in her attempt to escape. Zeke's powerful hands grappled with her body. "Help me, will you?" she heard him mutter. She couldn't see anything with her robe and hair in her face. Kara felt more than saw movement, and then a second set of hands restrained her upper body.
Chase was helping Zeke restrain her. The jerk!
"Let me go," she ordered. They were officially on her shit list. Any possibility of her considering their deal evaporated with the brutish treatment they were giving her right now. She'd never thought they would be so crass.
"No, Kara, I will not. This is the first rule, whether you submit to us or not, you will be honest with us or you will be punished. We won't have dishonesty between us. Your discipline is for the lies."
Zeke's large hand connected with her rear. Kara yelped at the sharp, unexpected pain that brought moisture to her eyes. She fought their hold, attempting to dislodge herself from Zeke's lap, but they were stronger, and her struggles were more like a fly battling a tornado. Zeke followed the first swat with a series of hard slaps across her cheeks. Everywhere his hand connected with her flesh, her bottom burned and grew enflamed.
"Stop it, you have no right," she choked out through tears. Fury and shame mingled inside her. There was a dam inside her that she felt cracking with every whack of his hand against her bottom.
"I will stop when you admit you lied," Zeke said, his hand delivering another hard thwack, the sound reverberating in the room.
"No! I will not!" She screeched as his hand fell again. The firmness of Chase's hands on her upper body kept her immobile and she seethed.
She clamped her lips shut, prepared to endure the spanking. The moment they let her loose, she would give them a piece of her mind. She lost count of the number of times Zeke's hand connected with her buttocks. Kara's backside was on fire, the pain throbbing. She stopped fighting, stopped moving. Kara clamped her lips shut, unwilling to let them see how this was affecting her. Some of the swats were forceful enough she couldn't seem to stop herself from hissing at the pain.
Sometime during the spanking, the tension in Kara's shoulders eased, her rigid posture relaxed bit by bit, and she began to anticipate each whack. Her insides grew buttery and she felt all her thoughts melt away. The walls of her vagina quivered and clenched as the pain morphed, sending volts of lighting to her sex.
It had been forever since she'd had a Dom discipline her. She'd forgotten how good it felt, how much she had reveled in it, and just how hot it made her. She could feel wetness coating her inner thighs. Kara moaned unintentionally as Zeke's hand connected again and reddened her ass.
Then Chase shifted her robe and hair from her face, his lips captured her mouth, and began drinking in her startled moans. Zeke's hand stopped tanning her bottom and began massaging it. Fire burned in her rear as he caressed the tender flesh. Need pulsated as Chase's lips possessed hers.
God, can the man kiss!
She opened to his invasion as his tongue thrust inside her mouth. Kara was lost in the heady feel of his kiss, sinking into him as he tanked her resolve to resist them. Zeke slid two fingers inside her vagina and her eyes rolled back inside her head at the incredible pleasure of feeling him spearing her depths. Zeke thrust his fingers in a gentle, lazy rhythm, just enough to set her body on edge. She couldn't move, could do nothing but accept his fingers stroking and teasing her tight channel.
Chase nipped and sucked on her bottom lip, tracing the contours of her mouth with his tongue. He nibbled at the corners of her mouth, drew her tongue into his mouth, and then plundered hers. Zeke amped up his ardent finger fucking, adding a third digit. She could feel her release spiraling closer with every forceful plunge of his fingers.
The walls of her vagina quivered, clenching at his fingers, her orgasm imminent. Then Zeke withdrew his fingers, Chase released her mouth. Zeke righted her robe and set her on her feet. Her legs wobbled as she stood, her body vibrating with need, shaking she was so on edge, in need of climax.
Zeke licked his fingers, sucking them into his mouth and tasting her juices. Chase stood up and went back to his seat at the table. Neither one of them seemed affected in the least by what had just occurred, while Kara felt like her defenses been split in two. And Zeke knew unequivocally that he'd taken her body to the edge of climax, and it appeared like he wasn't going to do anything about it.
"Problem, pet?" Zeke stared up at her as she shook.
Desire and fury swarmed in her chest, battling for dominance in her frame. Her body was alive with need, her blood thrummed in her veins, her sex pulsed and moisture dripped onto her thighs. Zeke planned on leaving her body unfulfilled, the bastard. On all accounts. She wanted to scream and rage. She wanted to smack the knowing look off Zeke's face, but mostly, she wanted to come.
"Get out," she muttered, seething. Her chest heaved as she worked to curtail her hormones.
"What was that, pet?" Zeke asked, his face stern, studying her reaction.
If he tried to do anything to her, if he tried to touch her, she'd use every ounce of her self-defense training against him. "I said; get the fuck out of my room. Both of you."
Chase reached out for one of her hands—to do what, try and talk her off the ledge? Screw that, she was in no mood for his explanation. She snatched her hand away
from his trajectory. Kara backpedaled away from him and Zeke, heading toward the door leading to the hall.
"Don't touch me," she warned Chase. "Get out." She opened the door to her room. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited for them to get the hint that she wasn't backing down from this. She pasted annoyance over her features. Their little conclave was having a Mexican stand-off but she wasn't budging from her position. She wanted them out of her room.
Chase moved first, after a look at his partner. They must have realized she was dead serious about wanting them to leave. Zeke followed at a more leisurely pace, unswayed by her attempt to control the situation. Zeke was a Dominant through and through; his caustic stare assessed her with ease.
"You want us, and you know it," Zeke stated as he stopped in front of her. Chase had already shuffled past and stood in the hallway.
She hated that her body churned and trembled at his words, craving his touch once more. "Regardless, at this moment, I want you both out of here. If you have any respect for me or our partnership, I suggest you comply with my wishes."
"We'll leave on one condition."
"You and your conditions again! What is it this time?"
"More like a dare. Meet us at the elevator in two hours." He threw down the gauntlet, knowing that one of her fears was appearing cowardly. When she was challenged, she rarely backed away.
"For what?" What was he planning?
"To go to the Dungeon Level with us. If you still want nothing to do with us after you venture below decks with us, we will relent and leave you be." Zeke quirked a brow, held his hand out in an attempt to appear like he was being all civil and offering a truce.
She ignored his outstretched hand, nodding her head toward the hall. "Fine. Just go."
"I'm warning you, Kara, if you are not at the elevator, I will assume you'd like more discipline and are awaiting us with your bottom bared for my hand," Zeke threatened with an unrepentant glare.
She shuddered at the thought. Her body couldn't withstand another one of Zeke's spankings without imploding in on itself. As a response, she nodded in deferment, afraid that if she uttered the scathing remarks resting on her tongue, she'd never get them to leave.
As soon as Zeke was on the other side of the door, she slammed it with a resounding thud, sliding the lock home, thankful for the audible click. She turned and, with her back against the door, slid her hand down between her legs, touched her clitoris, and came. Her orgasm slammed through her body with gale force resonance. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out and the guys hearing her.
Kara slid to the floor, limp from the heated interlude, hissing as her tender rear landed on the floor. She still didn't know what she wanted to do about them. She should be furious. She should be making arrangements to enact the amendment to cancel their partnership enterprise.
But what she wanted more was to give in to the liquid pull of Chase and Zeke, and experience all that they had to offer. She just wished she knew what the right decision was, for everyone involved.
Chapter 5
At the appointed time, Kara left the sanctuary of her room and headed to the elevators. Her spine straight, she refused to allow Zeke and Chase to make her cower in her room. So they wanted to change the rules of the game on her, fine. Once she'd been able to pull herself together, she'd taken a second, cold shower, washing away any lingering traces of Zeke's hands from her body. The only reason she wasn't barring the door to her room and denying the guys entrance was because she wanted to prove to herself—and to them—that she could remain unswayed by their alluring charm.
Kara refused to depend upon a man for her survival or self-worth, let alone two of them. She'd learned at a tender age what that trust and belief could do to you. Her father had walked out on her and her mother when she was seven years old. The scars from his abandonment were something Kara had never truly recovered from, try as she might. She'd never had the father daughter dances, or a positive male role model to look up to. Her mom had never remarried, preferring the single life, she said. But Kara knew differently. Her Dad leaving had destroyed her mom; it had shredded her self-confidence so that she had become a vacant shell for many years. Kara learned from that day forward to depend upon herself, forging her own path in the world. Her mom had started living again once Kara hit college, but by then it was too late for Kara. She'd depended upon herself for so long, the thought of needing anyone too badly made anxiety ricochet throughout her system.
Her upbringing, the conditioning she'd received in the most brutal of ways, was one of the reasons why she didn't feel she belonged in the BDSM lifestyle. Growing up without anyone to lean on for support, she didn't think she had it in her to ever fully place her fate, her life, in someone else's hands. She liked the sex, liked giving up the control in the bedroom to a man who knew what the hell he was doing, but most Doms weren't satisfied with a sub who only wanted to be submissive behind bedroom doors. She'd learned that lesson the hard way in college.
Zeke and Chase were already at the elevator, looking utterly, sinfully handsome. Zeke leaned casually against the wall in black leather pants and a black wife beater that fit him like a second skin and displayed just how muscular his shoulders and arms were. Then there was Chase, who wore not just leather pants, but had on a black leather harness that crisscrossed over his bare muscled chest, which was dusted with fine black hair. The harness had a single thread that traveled from the center of his chest down over his happy trail, disappearing beneath the leather pants that rode low on his hips, displaying how ripped he was and showing part of his lower pelvic bone—that V that made even the smartest girl drool like an idiot—as it peeked above the rim of his pants.
Christ, the duo made her hot just looking at them. Her body tightened, all fluttery at what they could do to her sensibilities merely with a glance. Kara rolled her shoulders, feeling like she was a boxer about to enter the ring.
"You look good enough to eat." Chase held his hand out to her.
She opted to ignore it. She knew if she touched either one, her steely resolve to remain unaffected would crumble into dust. Instead she pressed the elevator call button. Zeke still hadn't moved toward her yet, which was a good thing. She didn't plan on acknowledging him, either. Kara was still too mad at him for his earlier stunt. She'd love nothing more than to wipe the sardonic grin off his face.
He wanted to be an asshole Dom, fine.
The elevator arrived at the third floor and they all filed on. The moment the doors shut, Zeke pushed her back up against the wall and kissed her. He kissed her like a starving man finally getting a meal. It wasn't just a possession, but a claiming of ownership, with a dominant aggression that made her knees tremble and her body quake under his skilled mouth. Any thoughts she had about attempting to resist them fled as he plundered the recesses of her mouth in the most carnal kiss she'd ever experienced. He used every part of his body in his kiss; lips, tongue, teeth, even the length of his hard body as he constrained her back against the wall of the elevator.
He angled her head up, pressing his advantage further, drinking in her startled cries. Keeping her prisoner to his fervent desires he braced her hands above her head with one of his while his other hand cupped her breast, rasping his thumb over her nipple through her dress. The need she'd convinced herself she'd extinguished over the course of the last two hours revved back to life.
Desire engulfed her. She whimpered against his mouth as he withdrew. Zeke's eyes blazed with fiery hunger as he stared at her.
"Say yes," he ordered, and then placed nibbling kisses along her jawline.
Even through the foggy haze of passion she refused him, stubbornly digging her heels in.
"No," she murmured, attempting to calm her rapid pulse and stall the liquid pulls of heat at her core.
He smiled; an understanding gleamed in his eyes. Zeke knew she was fighting her body, struggling against her own needs.
"Come, pet." Zeke looped an arm through hers, pulling her int
o the Dungeon Fantasy Club as the elevator doors opened and music spilled inside. Chase took up position on her other side. Unexpected warmth seeped into her bones at the united, protective barrier they created around her. No one else would touch her down here. That much she was certain of, she wouldn't have to fend off unwanted advances from Doms—other than the two of them. And for all their recent bluster, with their masks removed and their true dominant natures coming to the forefront, Kara knew deep within her soul that Zeke and Chase would never allow any harm to come to her.
Just that instinctive knowledge loosened some of the knots that had taken up residence inside her abdomen. The music coming through the loud speakers was David Bowie. For a weeknight, the place was packed. Glass rooms lined the halls and, by the looks of them, were occupied, some with the midnight curtains drawn, while in others the curtains remained open and had viewing parties surrounding the glass.
The main hallway opened up into a small, gymnasium-sized room. There was a sleek black bar at the far end being overseen by Declan McDougal's butler, Jared, and the maid Sherry whom she'd met briefly this morning was rushing drinks on trays to guests lingering on leather couches and chairs in the center of the room. There were small alcove rooms, cordoned off by black velvet rope that held all manner of BDSM furniture, for public scenes. Presently, every scene room was occupied. There was a space with a medical examining table, a Saint Andrew's cross, a spanking horse, a brick wall with restraints to position a sub spread eagled, and more.
Kara had forgotten about the sheer amount of skin visible at a BDSM club. Not that she was squeamish about nudity, she wasn't, but one also didn't see this many bare breasts, bare butts, and everything else in between on a normal daily basis or out in the general public. Kara felt overdressed in her little black dress. It was the only thing she'd had on hand that would be considered appropriate attire for a BDSM Club. It amazed her that this existed in Declan McDougal's home and that the society rags had never caught wind of it. She wondered how someone as high profile as Declan could keep the press away from something like this. The press loved nothing more than debasing a famous person's sexual preferences on the five o'clock news like it was anyone else's business.