by Sara Brookes
“We’re fine, angel.” Saint palmed the back of her neck and cradled her head as he tugged lightly on her hair. Despite the very serious topic, a satisfying twinge radiated between her legs. “What happened was a fluke. Boyce wasn’t in control. Couldn’t process what was happening. It’s not the first time. Usually it comes in the form of nightmares, but he’s been under a lot of stress, and it got the better of him. I should have recognized the signs sooner and called off the scene to begin with. Maybe we shouldn’t have even come to the club that night. That’s on me. One hundred percent. I probably deserved a smack or two.”
Boyce snorted. “More than a smack sometimes.”
Saint cut his gaze to Boyce. She couldn’t help it—she giggled. The byplay between the men amused her far more than it should have. And it helped smooth away some of the hesitancy she had about agreeing to taking their relationship back into the realm of sex.
Saint’s grip relaxed as he began slowly caressing the sides of her neck. “As you can see, we’re fine. There is nothing you’re barging in the way of. Nothing for you to worry about. In fact, we want to you elbow your way between us. I have a feeling you’ll fit nicely. Like you were made to be there.”
Grae felt no shame about resisting. For putting a great big pause button on the moment. True, she’d seen the two men together for the past few days where everything seemed perfectly normal. At the club...totally different situation. They needed to trust her as much as she needed to trust them. And their assurance helped.
Still...
Boyce’s expression altered, softened. “I won’t lie to you, Grae. It’s not all rainbows and flowers in my head sometimes. Each day is a struggle. I have to work to be healthy. But those struggles are easier because I have someone who loves and supports me no matter what. I have friends who are willing to get in my face when I’m being stupid. Be a shoulder when I need one. Kochran and I agreed that private play is acceptable. It may be a while before I go out onto the main floor again. I’m not putting a deadline on when. And neither is anyone else. I don’t trust myself to be out there just yet. Besides, I want you distraction free tonight. For all of us.”
“All right,” she answered slowly. It had been several years since she’d physically participated in a scene. Even with her familiarity with the men, she knew several things needed to be talked about. “Do we need to break out the limit lists now?” When Saint and Boyce began grinning slowly, a delicious tension slithered up her spine. “You already know. Don’t you?”
She did. Members, virtual or otherwise, were required to submit limits lists before membership was granted into Noble House. And, as she’d expected, Saint had access to hers. That kind of breach should have immediately turned her off. But since they already knew one another, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Boyce touched her bottom lip. “She’s pouting.”
“Damn sexy when she does it, too.”
Their amusement only made her more agitated. “Not sure I like being this much in the dark.”
“You don’t need to be. We may have seen your lists and know they’re compatible with ours, but we expected to have a discussion. Insist on it, actually. Doesn’t matter what we’ve seen, we need to hear you say it.”
“As Boyce said, our limits are compatible, but if there is anything that concerns you—ask.” Saint played with the collar of her shirt. “This certainly isn’t the time to be shy.”
She squirmed on Boyce’s lap. “Has been a while.” She laughed again, but this time the sound was filled with nervousness. Great. Just what she needed. To sound like an amateur. As she cleared her throat, she swallowed her anxiety. “Okay. No bloodplay. Or anything overly violent, right?” They both nodded. “You said compatibility, so I assume no heavy pain play? Some pain play is okay. I think. I don’t know. It’s not an area I have a lot of experience with. Maybe because being hurt doesn’t do it for me. Never really has.”
She thought about a scene she’d seen the men carry out about three months ago. The deep red flush of the submissive’s thighs and butt as Saint had used a long, wide strip of wood to spank her.
“The few times I’ve watched you guys like that weren’t scenes I enjoyed much. I mean, I did because it was you two, but not because of the pain play.” Does that even make sense? Her growing courage wavered, but she pushed on. “Rope play is okay.”
“Rope is Enver’s area of expertise, but it’s certainly not something we’ll take off the table if you want to be tied up.”
“Sounds good so far.” Boyce nodded. “What about roleplay?”
Grae thought back to the scene she’d watched earlier through the window. The Dom with his whip and blades. The submissive wearing full makeup and bound in the red leather. “It’s not an area I have a lot of experience with either.” If they kept asking her things she didn’t know anything about, she was going to come off as a brand spanking new submissive.
“Would you like more?” Boyce nuzzled her neck as Saint continued to gently tug on her hair.
The heat that had been gathering through her lower extremities flourished. Her body certainly had no problem with physically being at Noble House. “If you keep that up, you can do whatever you want.”
Boyce huffed out a laugh. “Plenty more where this comes from.”
Saint kissed the other side of her neck. “What about sex? Intercourse during play?”
“Oh God, yes please.” Her eyes flew open. How could she have said that out loud? Boyce and Saint seemed unsurprised by her unguarded confession. Too late to take her eagerness back. “Just...not in front of the cameras. Not yet. Not tonight. And it’s nothing to do with my concerns with Boyce’s episode. It’s just...”
“We understand,” Saint offered. “We’d planned to keep you all to ourselves tonight by using one of the private rooms.”
The realization hit her. “That’s what you went to speak with Kochran about when you both arrived, wasn’t it, Boyce? I’d assumed you needed to clear being back here with him again.”
“Duke and I talked a few days ago, the day after you met us at the club, or else I wouldn’t be here at all tonight. Since he was concerned about what happened, he wanted to make sure everything was all right before attempting another scene. I wouldn’t have even tried if I didn’t feel confident.”
Saint brushed his hand down Boyce’s cheek. “Kochran is familiar with Boyce’s situation. He’s dealt with a few Doms and subs with similar PTSD problems. Sometimes he knows better than they do—which makes him such a good Master. And why he’s the one in charge instead of one of us lowly peons.” Saint touched her bottom lip. “You’re pouting again.”
“I feel like you two are several steps ahead of me.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
Those smiles again. So addicting. So maddening. And so, so handsome. Their control and attention to detail before the start of a scene was attractive and exactly what she’d been looking for. Now it was solely on her to reach out and accept the scene, the night, they were offering.
Saint touched her arm. “One last bit of business.”
Her acceptance of their terms died on her tongue. What else could they possibly want to discuss now? They’d covered all the basics.
“We’ll need to know your safe word,” Saint offered. “That line in your profile was blank.”
Of course it was. She’d never thought she would’ve been in a situation where she’d need to utilize it living in Los Angeles. Besides, she trusted the men to keep her safe. They weren’t strangers. It wasn’t as though she expected them to cause her any sort of harm. “I don’t—”
Boyce shook his head, silencing her. Disappointment created lines on his forehead as he drew his eyebrows together. “You’ll have at least one. You don’t agree to our terms on that and we’re all going to be nursing more than a couple of brui
sed egos for the rest of the night.”
They both stared, patiently waiting for her to continue.
“Shenanigans.”
Saint bit his lip to muffle his snort. Boyce’s shoulders moved as he tried to suppress his laughter. The fact they remembered touched her. A raunchy, crude comedy about the waitstaff at a busy restaurant named Shenanigans had been another favorite movie during their college years.
“All right, movie buff. Shenanigans it is.” Boyce rolled his eyes as he chuckled softly. “Now...where were we?”
“I was about to tell you both that I’d like to sharpen those pencils you were talking about earlier.”
Boyce grinned. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Chapter Eight
Grae smoothed her hands down the front of the suit she’d selected. She’d forgotten the fun of dressing up for a scene. Preparing to spend the next few hours just enjoying herself. Getting out of her head. Even though it was true she didn’t have a lot of experience with roleplay, she did like taking care in selecting the perfect outfit for the scene.
The men had deposited her in front of a door just down the hall from the Keep. They’d instructed her to select a high-powered suit worthy of an executive’s office and join them when she was done.
The command that weighted their words still swirled inside her. She was glad they’d agreed not to scene in public or in front of the cameras. She didn’t mind sensory overload, but knowing thousands of people were watching pushed her comfort level a little too far for her first time at the club.
Besides, a reunion like this wasn’t meant for the cameras.
In the dressing area, she’d found the four walls of the room had been converted into closet space. Hundreds of garments of all colors and sizes hung from metal poles on cushioned hangers. Lushly covered benches formed a square around a waist-high structure filled with shoes artfully perched on angled shelving.
The choices had been overwhelming.
As she stood in front of the door they’d indicated wearing a form-fitting olive-green suit, she wondered if the plum-colored platform stilettos were over the top. Since her days were usually spent wearing yoga pants and a ponytail, she had thought it was a perfect opportunity to spice things up.
Wasn’t as though she was going to be wearing the outfit for very long anyway.
Or the heels.
At least she hoped not.
Blowing out a breath to steady her nerves, she turned the handle and entered. Two large desks dominated the room, the wood stained dark. The men sat opposite each other, typing away on laptops. They barely spared her a glance as she closed the door.
So much for spending all that time selecting the right shoes and outfit for the scene.
As she walked forward, she studied what each man had changed into. Boyce had exchanged his jeans and tee for a pair of dark gray slacks and a starched black button-down shirt. A gray vest completed the executive look, even though the buttons were straining to contain all those muscles. Saint wore similar clothing; however, he’d selected a pair of purple and gray checkered suspenders in lieu of a belt and vest.
“Sit down, Ms. Burrows.” Saint’s brusque order had her rapidly moving forward without thinking.
At least, until she encountered a problem. “There’s nowhere to sit.”
Boyce tapped the corner of his desk. “Here will do nicely.” When she sat, Boyce clicked his pen closed. “We need you to stay late and take a letter. I’m not sure how long this will take and don’t want to interfere with any personal life you may have outside of the office. Will that be a problem?”
Though Boyce smiled warmly, she knew it wouldn’t matter if she had a problem with it or not. “No, Mr. Denali,” she answered easily. “I’m all yours.”
“Good girl.”
“Do you have a subject in mind?”
He met her gaze. “Erection sequence.”
Though she snickered, Boyce’s face remained impassive. She bit off the noise and poised the pen he’d handed her over the notepad. “Ready whenever you are, Mr. Denali.”
“This memo is to notify our supplier that the installation of the poles labeled one and two are scheduled to be erected as follows. Pole one, henceforth known as gargantuan, will be—is there a problem, Ms. Burrows?”
Grae cleared her throat. “No, Mr. Denali. Please. Continue.”
He stared at her for a long minute, until she began to fidget. “Be still, Ms. Burrows, or I will be forced to take you over my knee and spank you.” Her gaze slid to Saint, but he continued to stare at his computer, ignoring what was going on. “Now. Shall we continue?”
“Please.”
Boyce leaned closer, brushing a few strands that had fallen free of her messy bun. “Careful, Ms. Burrows. I find myself fond of how you say that word. So fascinated, I may have to find out how you sound saying it while my cock is buried in your pussy.”
Grae swallowed as Boyce pushed away, shoved his hands into his pockets, and began walking a wide, circular path around the two desks. “As I was saying...gargantuan will be placed first. The requirements for the pole state it must be buried in an acceptable vessel as it is prepped to accept the second pole, known as monumental. When both gargantuan and monumental have reached full height, great care is to be taken in order to see that they are buried effectively at the same time. There may be some resistance, given the vast size of both poles, so a suitable lubricant will have to be applied in order to ease the dual penetration.”
Though Grae was ready to dissolve into a fit of laughter, her skin was feverish. She had to force herself to concentrate. No telling if they intended for her to type out the letter. And if she so much as missed a single vowel or consonant, she had no doubt they were ready to dole out some kind of punishment.
“Furthermore, a fair amount of pounding may be necessary to ensure a secure fit. And any means necessary is acceptable in order to ensure perfect placement. This office finds it adequate to even restrain the vessel as necessary.”
Her handwriting was deplorable, but she doubted she would be graded on her penmanship. As Boyce continued to speak, cool as a cucumber, the tissues between her legs grew heavy. Her skin flushed. Her nipples hardened.
“Everything all right?” The deep timbre of Boyce’s voice indicated his awareness of her arousal. And she knew, no matter what she said, he wouldn’t stop anyway. He set his hand on her knee as he sat, the heat of his palm scorching her skin. “Ms. Burrows?”
“Yes,” she answered carefully. “I’m fine.” I think.
When he kept his hand in place, her fingers began to tremble, her scribbling growing shakier as his voice never changed in tone. She knew these two had nerves of steel, but holy wow. This was taking things to a whole new level.
This is what you wanted, Grae. Remember?
“Anything else to add, Mr. Templar?”
Saint grunted in answer to Boyce’s inquiry, and she blew out a relieved breath. She didn’t think she could take any more.
“Excellent,” Boyce responded, a touch of eagerness resonating in his voice. “I want that typed on the company letterhead and on my desk by morning. Now, I’ve had a very long day, Ms. Burrows. I could use some stress relief.” He stretched his arms overhead as he leaned back in his executive chair. The position showed where the fabric pulled tight against his crotch, displaying the outline of his cock. A very long length of cock that made her mouth water. As she watched, he pulled down the zipper and drew himself out. “Perhaps a blow job to take the edge off.”
Heat coursed through her veins, pooling low in her gut and between her legs, as her gaze darted between the two men. Saint continued working, his face impassive and unreadable. She wasn’t about to let his nonchalance ruin her night. She too could remain aloof, play it cool. She’d done all right so far, ha
dn’t she?
Maybe while she’d been getting dressed, Saint had chosen to watch Boyce have sex? It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected—wanted—but a night subbing to a man, servicing him, getting off, getting him off, was better than a few minutes alone with her portable showerhead any-fucking-day.
After kicking off her heels, she tucked her legs up and slid closer to Boyce.
“Eager sub, aren’t you?”
Easy byplay with a Dom had never come naturally for her. It had always been something she had to work for. While she’d always submitted willingly, wanting to please the man she chose for the night, the ease she found with these two stunned her.
She was so, so close to actually living out those dark, desirous fantasies she’d been imagining. If Saint would just look up from the computer, see her sitting there, wanting them both, everything would click into place.
“Head here. Feet on Saint’s desk. At least give him something pretty to look at while he’s working.” Her tight skirt kept her from opening her legs too wide. Boyce batted her hands away when she tried to reach down to fix the problem. “Let’s give him an even better picture. A reward for the numbers he’s been putting together for me all month. He works too hard as well. He just doesn’t know when to take a break. Sometimes I have to get a little aggressive about forcing him to.”
Boyce opened a drawer and pulled out four pairs of handcuffs. He locked the desk, stuffing the key in his pocket before securing the ends of two pairs to the opposite handles. Her wrists were first, the metal cold and harsh against her skin, followed by her ankles.
He dragged up the hem of her skirt, gathering it around her waist to expose the lace panties she’d chosen. Boyce whisked those away, spreading her thighs wide as he locked her ankles in the cuffs, then secured the free end to small pins protruding from Saint’s desk.
Something inside her head clicked into place, echoing the sound of the handcuff ratcheting closed. She’d forgotten how much she liked being at someone’s sexual mercy. How decadent it felt being spread out, pussy fully exposed and aching.