Legally Binding

by Cleo Peitsche

  How many men? Just the partners?

  “Who is it?” she asked, and she could hear the terror in her own voice.

  A hard, masculine chest leaned against her shoulder. He was tall. Solid. “It’s just us,” Trent said.

  Then he dipped her to the side, pulling her against him, his arm sweeping under her knees.

  She choked in a fast breath as she went horizontal. Trent was carrying her, and a moment later he carefully placed her on a soft office chair.

  The blindfold had shifted a few centimeters. She could see very little—just a sliver of her knees.

  Someone tied her wrists to the chair’s armrests, the soft fabric cushioning her forearms.

  One of the men was kneeling. All she could see was his shoulder. Dark jacket. It could have been any of them.

  He pushed her knees apart and tied each to the support of the chair’s armrest. She was able to see the scrap of fabric he’d used. Royal blue, silky. She didn’t know where it had come from, but it wasn’t a necktie.

  She heard the men walking away, then their lowered voices discussing something. Slowly, she tilted her head back until she could see the three of them in conversation. Ethan was taking off his jacket.

  He unfastened his cufflinks and slipped them into the jacket’s inside pocket before tossing it out of view.

  His strong fingers deftly flipped over the bottom of a shirt cuff. He rolled it to just below his elbow, exposing a muscular forearm. He started to repeat it with the other arm, then paused.

  The men were having a disagreement about something, she realized. Trent and Raphael were arguing with Ethan.

  After a moment, Ethan said, “Fine,” loud enough for her to hear, then jerkily rolled up his other sleeve. She sensed them turning toward her, and she lowered her head lest they realize she wasn’t completely blind.

  Footsteps approached.

  A nervous smile rose to Maisie’s lips. It froze there—oh, she hoped she wasn’t about to start laughing inappropriately. She felt like she’d been kidnapped.

  “Stick out your tongue,” Ethan said.

  She poked out her tongue and waited for an erect cock to join the party.

  But instead of hard flesh, she got nothing. Just the office air, slowly drying her tongue out.

  How ridiculous did she look?

  A hand plunged into her bra, the touch so unexpected that she gasped.

  Fingers tweaked her nipple. “You were given orders.” Raphael’s voice was low and dangerous.

  “What—” she started to say, but rough fingers forced her jaw open, caught her tongue, tugged it forward.

  “Don’t fuck up again,” Raphael growled, and her pussy gushed with excitement. These powerful men had turned their focus on her, and while she didn’t know the rules of this game, she loved it already.

  Nodding enthusiastically, she strained her tongue forward, lengthening it until the corners of her jaw ached, and the tug on her tongue’s frenulum brought tears to her eyes. She could even hear the hum of her trembling muscles.

  “Much better,” Raphael said, his voice thick and deep with tightly controlled desire.

  The chair was being rocked, then lifted into the air.

  Squeezing her eyes tight—not that it made any difference because she couldn’t see much—she clamped her teeth on her tongue to keep from disobeying her bosses again.

  The chair landed with a mild jolt, and she slowly peeled her eyes open. Through the sliver by which she saw the world, she learned that she’d been put on top of Ethan’s desk.

  The men released the chair, and the wheels slid slightly.

  She gasped, thinking she was about to roll over the side and crash to the floor. If her hands had been free, she would have clawed off the blindfold.

  Suddenly the chair was still; one of her bosses must have grabbed it. Maisie’s tongue had taken refuge in her mouth. She desperately pushed it forward again.

  “Bad, bad girl,” Ethan purred in a deep voice. His hands stroked from her knees to the tops of her thighs, and then his touch became cruel and punishing, his fingertips digging into the vulnerable flesh just below her sex.

  He pushed her thighs away from each other, but she was already spread as wide as possible given the chair’s confines. His fingers burrowed into her softness, hitting the muscle underneath. “Bad girl.”

  Someone moved behind Ethan. Impossible to be sure who; they all had similar builds, at least when they were dressed.

  The man shifted to the side, and she almost gasped when she saw the protuberance of his erect cock thrusting through the fly of his pants. She only caught a glimpse, but it was enough to set her blood pounding in her veins.

  He wouldn’t have taken it out if he didn’t plan to use it on her, after all. Now she had to clamp down on her tongue to keep from grinning.

  “When you’re bad,” Ethan said, increasing the intensity of his grip and chasing away all thoughts of grinning, “we will punish you.”

  Something flicked against her clit. Hard enough to make her gasp, but because her jaw was clamped down, she didn’t disobey her bosses’ orders.

  The second flick delivered a stab of pain that quickly heated to a sizzling burn.

  She inhaled sharply through her nose.

  Then Ethan moved his left hand and began flicking his way up her inner thigh. The skin he’d been squeezing was tender. “One from each of us,” he said, and flicked her sex so hard that her pussy quivered with pleasure.

  She was practically panting, and it was a strange sensation, her tongue painfully dry while the rest of her mouth had turned into a floodplain.

  “You’re incredible,” Raphael said. “I don’t fucking believe it.”

  “Believe it,” Ethan said. “You should have seen the way she came in here, practically begging for me to put her across my knee and paddle her ass raw.”

  Someone reached out and yanked down the cups of her bra. The straps dug into her shoulders. He leaned forward (it was Raphael, she saw now) to force his hand behind her back and unhook the closure with surprising precision.

  She could smell his aftershave, which she hadn’t noticed yesterday. It was heavier than Ethan’s, the musk stronger and the individual scents less distinct from each other. He tugged her bra again. The straps came to rest in the crooks of her elbows, the cups suspended over her lap.

  His hands cradled her breasts and lifted them. By tilting her chin just right, she could see his thumb stroking across one nipple.

  The dusky pink tip tightened, and his attentions became almost too intense. Each brush of his thumb sent painfully intense sensations streaking toward her clit. Her body felt like it was vibrating.

  “You may relax,” Ethan said. He released her other thigh to tap her tongue. “That’s enough.”

  Slowly, she pulled it in. She could still feel the ache in her jaw.

  “Should we fuck her?” Raphael asked. He resumed teasing her nipples, and she knew her arousal was seeping through her panties and onto her boss’s chair.

  “Please,” she said, and one of the men barked out a laugh.

  She both heard and felt a drawer in the desk being pulled open. Then the rasp of a condom packet being torn free. “Catch,” Trent said.

  So he knew Ethan kept condoms on hand. It was more proof that they’d done this at work before. She remembered Jayne’s reaction to seeing Ethan, the way she’d gone stiff. Then, later, she’d said he was sexy.

  Had Jayne once been tied to the chair and fucked by the bosses? Maisie felt herself frowning. It wasn’t the sort of thing one would mention casually to the new girl.

  “Oh, it won’t be that bad,” Raphael said. He brought her breasts together. When he spoke again, his breath was hot on her nipples. “We’ll even allow you to come as much as you want. Enjoy it while you can.”

  Then he licked a lazy circle around one of her peaks.

  She gasped and threw her head back.

  The chair was moving, but she didn’t care so long
as Raphael kept on with what he was doing.

  The tip of his tongue danced over her nipple. She longed to bury her hands in his hair and hold him to her.

  A second tongue joined in, worshipping the other nipple. The sensations were almost overwhelming.

  She moaned, and someone flicked her pussy, making her squeal from the sharp, delightful agony. “Be quiet,” Ethan growled.

  But she couldn’t keep quiet, because slowly but surely, an intense orgasm was building. They were doing it to her with their tongues and their domination.

  Ethan flicked her pussy again, and it almost sent her spiraling over the edge. Then his mouth was on her panties and her most sensitive flesh.

  She cried out, and Ethan jerked away. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Her breasts were abandoned, and someone violently ripped away the blindfold, leaving her blinking in the sudden light.

  14

  Raphael’s mouth twitched into a smile. His shirt had come partially unbuttoned, and a thick cock was poking through his pants. “Your mascara is smeared,” he said. “Pretty fucking hot.”

  Tilting her head, she smiled at him. She and her bosses were definitely on the same page.

  Ethan was frowning. He stepped forward and grabbed the chair. Then she was sailing through the air. She braced herself for a hard impact, but he set her down gently.

  Raphael and Trent began untying her arms and legs.

  “No. No, no,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I can do better—”

  “You will address me as sir,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry, sir.” It felt weird to be using the word. She’d read about it plenty of times, about addressing dominant men in that way, but she’d certainly never used it herself. “It’s just that I was about to…”

  “Yes?”

  “To orgasm. Sir. Please don’t send me back to my desk now.” Even though her limbs had been freed, she kept them pressed against the chair.

  Trent pulled her to standing. He yanked away her bra and pulled off her panties, leaving her naked. She was a little bent over, her knees clamped together and her breasts swinging gently.

  He turned her roughly and pushed her back toward the chair.

  “Spread your legs, honey,” Ethan said. “Show me that juicy cunt.”

  Honey. Cunt. Tits.

  She liked when he talked like that.

  She slid her legs apart. The men maneuvered her onto the chair, her legs spread, her knees over the armrests, and her feet dangling. She leaned her upper body against the back for stability. Her hips hung in the air, over the seat. It wasn’t comfortable, all her weight resting on the narrow armrests, even if they were padded.

  The chair smelled like Ethan’s aftershave.

  Trent stooped and released a lever, and the chair’s back lowered, pitching her forward.

  Now her ass was in the air. With her thighs spread, she felt very exposed. It would be easy for anyone to slide whatever he wanted into wherever he wanted.

  A moment later, that was exactly what Trent did. He turned the chair, grabbed her hips, and thrust his cock into her heat.

  Her head jerked up, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. The chair lurched forward with every slam of his hips.

  Ethan took his place at her head. “What should you be doing?” he asked.

  She took her cue from his erection bobbing aggressively in front of her face.

  The head was particularly plump and bulbous, and the shaft was swollen, shiny, and tinged purplish.

  “Sucking your cock, sir,” she said.

  Ethan already had his fist wrapped around the thick thing, and he fed it to her with little thrusts, each deeper than the last. The chair moved back and forth, and she felt like she was on an erotic seesaw.

  Sucking him wasn’t easy, but the rhythm made it possible to breathe.

  Raphael came to stand next to Ethan. His cock was hard and pointed right at her, so she wasn’t surprised when Ethan stepped back and Raphael shoved down her throat, choking her, blocking her airway before the chair rolled back, impaling her pussy on Trent’s cock.

  Her bosses crowded the chair. No more rolling around.

  Ethan and Raphael slid over her lips and chin, smearing them with salty pre-come.

  Her tongue couldn’t keep up, but oh, she tried to please them both, licking and sucking. The men were delicious. If only she could get them both in her mouth at once, though it was hot to be sucking one, bobbing aggressively on the hard shaft, while the other cock pressed impatiently at her stretched lips.

  With a groan of pleasure and frustration, Ethan stepped away, letting Raphael do as he would.

  She loved the texture of his shaft, the bulge of his cock head and the ridges of his veins. He grunted as he picked up speed, fucking her mouth mercilessly. Her exhausted jaw kept quivering, and she finally went soft and compliant for him. “That’s what I want,” he growled, shoving deep into her throat, each stroke ending with a vigorous pulse that made her gag… and made him even harder.

  As tears blurred her vision, she realized she’d never been so happy. Her bosses were giving her the fantasy she’d always thought too dangerous to pursue.

  Meanwhile, Ethan was rolling a condom over himself.

  Everyone stopped moving. Trent’s cock throbbed inside her, and her inner muscles squeezed around his girth in desperation.

  Raphael thrust one final time in her mouth, then stepped back. His shirt had come untucked, and she caught a glimpse of a tattoo low on his hips. All she could see was a blur of dark ink, but ooh, she was dying to know what it was.

  The men remained still.

  She looked up. “Sirs? Have I displeased you?” She’d read that sentence in a book about a woman being taken hostage by some kinky pirates. She hoped it would please her bosses.

  Ethan took hold under her shoulders to push her upright, and then Trent’s large hands were under her thighs, lifting her entire body into the air. His cock stayed planted inside her pussy.

  For a moment she felt unsafe and insecure, and she barely noticed that Ethan was lying on the chair, that erect cock sticking up obscenely, his shirt partially unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up.

  Then her back came to rest against Trent’s chest, and she felt safe again.

  “Guess what?” he whispered into her ear. He nibbled the lobe, making her squirm, and his cock twitched inside her. Her pussy squeezed in response. A low, masculine moan vibrated his body. “I’m going to take your ass,” he growled.

  She gasped. “I’m not ready—”

  “It’s better to get it over with,” Ethan snapped. “If triple penetration won’t work, it’s better for us all if we know now, when it’s easy to go our separate ways.”

  She had to remind herself of how gently he’d set her down.

  But then she thought… maybe that was because he cared about the chair. After all, it was likely custom-made.

  “Ethan is right,” Trent said. “You can trust me. I know what I’m doing, and I’ll take care of you. Ok?”

  She held her breath.

  “I’ll be careful. If you want me to stop, just say so. But I think it’ll be easier if you trust me. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said hesitantly. She looked up, the back of her head sliding against his neck. His jaw was square, strong. “I trust you.”

  “That’s my girl.” He walked forward and lowered her over Ethan. A moment later, he pulled his cock away.

  But Ethan quickly took his place, plunging deep into her with a single claiming thrust that made her mouth open wide in a voiceless gasp of surprise.

  She immediately began twisting and bouncing, frantically working his cock until his hands settled on her hips, locking her in place.

  “Enough of that. Kiss me,” he said, deep voice commanding.

  Heart pounding, she started to lean forward, then realized what position she’d be in if she obeyed; she’d be allowing Trent unrestricted access to her ass.


  Ethan laughed. “Too smart to be fooled so easily, I see. But the thing is”—his hand cupped the back of her head—“I demand your kiss.”

  Her body responded. There was something irresistible about Ethan.

  He urged her down. He wasn’t forcing her, she realized. She could feel his strength, but he was giving her the option to resist.

  They were giving her an out.

  But that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. She stared into his eyes. “What if I’m not comfortable with this? How would you even know?”

  Concern creased his brow. “We don’t want to force you into doing anything,” he said. “That’s not what this is about.”

  She nodded. She’d understood that from the beginning. “I want a safe word. Something better than whatever you said yesterday.”

  “I believe it was no sex,” he said.

  “Yeah. That’s not gonna work for me. Because…” She had to force herself to hold his gaze. “Because I want to pretend this is against my will. Sir. I want it rough.”

  “You’re awfully demanding,” Raphael said.

  “Pro bono.” There was a smile in Trent’s voice. “Those two words will cause any well-paid attorney to lose his erection.”

  Ethan laughed, a genuine laugh. As he did, his hands tightened around her, like he wanted to keep her close. She felt her pussy getting even wetter around his cock.

  Trent swatted her ass. “Pro bono, then. And if your mouth is full, bite Raphael.”

  “Funny,” Raphael said, not sounding amused. “We usually use snapping fingers.”

  Usually.

  Maisie pushed it away. “Ok, sirs,” she said. “I think I’m good.”

  The warmth went out of Ethan’s eyes. It was like it had never been there.

  He pulled her toward him, and now she couldn’t get away. His cock was rock-hard as he began fucking her and kissing her, his hands roaming over her breasts and face, squeezing her ass, and then rubbing her clit.

  “I want to feel you come,” he said, his words vibrating across her lips.

  Smiling, she sat up a bit, planning to reach down and take charge, to make it happen.

  But then he did something with his fingers, a tight, pulsing arc over her nub.