by James, Tate
"What?" Hawke chokes out, like he's drowning on his own desperate need for control. He swipes a hand over his short brunette hair and grits his teeth. It's physically painful for him to give into the demands of others, isn't it? It's doubtful he's ever taken a submissive position in his entire life. Speaking of ... what sort of lives did these guys live before they got here? Who were they? I suddenly find myself desperate to know everything.
Instead of letting the emotion show on my face, I bring the paddle close to my chest and smack my left palm with it, my gaze focused on Hawke.
"Boss, you know I'd die for you, but seriously?" Mace gestures in my general direction. "You have a naked girl willing and ready to do whatever you want, if only you'll just show her that you give a shit by making one, small sacrifice." Mace glances back my way, and I smile, nodding and shrugging my shoulders.
He nailed it.
For such a closed-off, tight-lipped asshole, he gets it.
"Bend over for me, Hawke," I say again, and the look he throws my way is pure murder. "You admitted you loved me, so now bend over, and we can move on. I'll even let you put me in a school girl uniform if that floats your boat. A nice Catholic school girl to play submissive to her favorite priests."
"I did not admit my love," he grinds out, nostrils flaring, hands flexing and unflexing at his sides. This shouldn't be so hard for him, right? To take one single spanking. But he's sweating now, and he looks like he's about to break. "When I do, you'll know it."
"When you do, huh?" I ask, sauntering around Mace to stand in front of Hawke. He stares down at me with this odd sort of expression on his face, like he wants to give in for me, but doesn't know how. Or ... is afraid to? It's hard for me to imagine Hawke being afraid of anything. But that's the vibe I'm getting. The more I think about it, the more obvious it seems to become.
"I love you, Natalia," he says, lids hooded as he steps toward me, reaches out, and takes the paddle away. He tosses it aside and then wraps his hands around my neck on either side, tilting my chin up with his thumbs. His expression is impossible to read, lost somewhere between fear, loathing, and lust. If I squint hard enough, I can see it, a tenderness buried deep down. Hawke is afraid to acknowledge it, afraid to let himself be vulnerable—and he hates himself for it.
His lips crash into mine, knocking away any thoughts of spanking or submission. How can I make him do it when he's clearly so afraid of it? Submission during sex makes me feel good, like I can relax and leave the decisions up to someone else. For Hawke, it seems like it might quite literally be a form of torture.
He walks me backward, until my bare back and ass hit the dresser.
"School girl uniform, huh?" he asks, pushing me slightly to one side and opening the top drawer. When he draws out a second set of robes, my heart stutters in my chest, and I feel myself melting into the moment. I want to submit; I like it.
"Don't tell me you actually have one in there?" I ask as Hawke pulls out a plastic package and chucks it at me. It's a Halloween costume. Sexy Schoolgirl says the label. I lift my gaze up to his and cock a brow. "You bought all of this for me?" Part of me wants to be pissed off, but the rest of me is surprised that he knows me so well, every kink and naughty little fantasy.
"Put it on," he says, glancing over at Mace. They exchange a long, studying sort of look, and I know that this conversation—the spanking and submission thing—is far from over. We'll revisit it later, when Hawke doesn't look like a trapped bird with clipped wings. He slips the robes over his head, and a memory flickers to life inside of me. Stumbling into that church, falling to my knees in front of this man. If I knew then what I know now ... I would've made all the same choices, wouldn't I?
Ripping the plastic on the package, I take out the fake rosary and slip it over my head, donning the plaid skirt, midriff white button-down, and tie.
"We're all going to hell," Mace states simply, but not like he's mad about it or anything, just like it's simple fact. I'm surprisingly okay with his statement. If there is a heaven, then I'm not sure that I belong there. Because I'm damn near positive that none of these men are going and ... I'm attached to them.
"You love me," I whisper absently as Hawke picks up the paddle again and turns to look at me from gray eyes.
"Don't let it go to your head. Don't think I've forgotten that you never finished that run yesterday. You'll run one twice as long after this mission. Now, bend the fuck over." He gestures at the bed with the paddle, and I step forward, my gaze flicking between Mace and Hawke. I've seen Hawke share with Arsen, a man that he quite clearly hates, so this shouldn't be too hard for him, right? Sharing with his best friend.
I move over to the edge of the bed, and then pause.
"One second," I say, heading for the door and throwing it open. I dart across the hall to grab some red heels, fully aware that if one of the other guys sees me, it's game over. They'll want in, and I'm not sure that Hawke is prepared for a fourth party.
A sigh of relief escapes me as I slip back into the room and close the door behind me, leaning my back up against it.
Both men are staring at me. Mace looks bemused while Hawke is clearly ticked-off. But, really, what's new about that?
"You're a very bossy bottom," he says, nostrils flaring slightly as he exhales and closes his eyes briefly, opening them back up with a modicum of extra patience. "But I can forgive you, if only to see your ass lifted up in those red heels. Now, bend over and don't make me tell you again."
I move across the room slowly, reaching up to play with the rosary around my neck. Hawke doesn't give me much time to put on a saucy act, pushing me over the edge of the bed and pressing my face into the silky charcoal sheets.
"Keep her there, Mace," he commands, and then adds, almost as an after-thought. "And I don't care how you do it."
With a grunt of acknowledgement, Mace takes up the command with gusto, climbing onto the bed and kneeling before me. As I push up onto my palms, our eyes meet, and I can already see what it is that he wants.
Hawke smacks my ass with the paddle, making me cry out. But it doesn't hurt, not at all. I love the sharp sting of it, shifting my thighs to deal with the sudden aching and pulsing in my cunt.
"You've been insufferable lately, you know that?" Hawke continues, swatting me again as Mace lifts up the robes and bares his cock. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he guides my mouth where he wants it, and thrusts between my lips. "Look at Mace here. At least he knows how to follow fucking orders."
The paddle hits my cheeks again, and I groan, the sound stifled by Mace's thick cock in my throat. I can already taste his salty pre-cum on my tongue, and I'm desperate to reach up a hand to wrap the base of his shaft. But I can't, not with Hawke swatting me the way he is. I need both palms on the bed to keep my balance.
Something hard brushes my swollen lips—the ones between my legs—as Mace pushes his cock deep into my throat, burying himself fully as I relax, welcoming him in. He pulls out all the way, giving me a chance to suck in a breath, and then thrusts forward again.
"You love this, don't you, Natalia?” Hawke growls. “Giving into us. For the life of me, I don't understand it—but I like it."
"You love it," Mace corrects, giving my hair a yank and sliding his cock across my tongue. Hawke teases me with the end of the paddle, working my juices across the leather. The next time he spanks me, it's twice as hard, just to make up for Mace's comment.
The rosary around my neck swings with each movement, a carnal sin that I can't help but enjoy.
The sound of the paddle hitting the floor makes my body tense with anticipation, wondering what Hawke's planning on doing, knowing that he doesn't have quite as much self-control as he pretends he does.
He moves over to the table and retrieves the vibrating cock ring. I can just barely see him from the corner of my eye as he lubes his shaft up and slips it on, the robes caught up on the hard length of his dick as he moves back over to me and lines himself up with my opening. Where his hands gri
p my hips, my skin tingles, and my body seems to buck of its own accord. Mace keeps me where I am by curling his fingers in my hair.
"This is what happens to naughty girls who stray from their righteous course," Hawke growls, just before he drives into me. Another groan escapes me, trapped by Mace's cock, as the two of them work me from either side. That damn vibrating ring makes it hard to resist, and within just a few thrusts, I can feel myself coming apart at the seams.
The first climax hits me like a freight train, locking my muscles around Hawke's shaft as he forces himself in deep, fighting against the pulsing of my body. My arms get weak, but Mace yanks on my hair, keeping me upright, forcing me to take him all the way to the base.
"If you're not praying Natalia, you should be," Hawke says, pounding into me as Mace growls out a curse and thrusts deep, spilling himself across my tongue. As he pulls out, I struggle to swallow, sucking in as much air as I can. A bit of his seed escapes my mouth, dripping across my lower lip, and I lick it away with a flick of my tongue.
My hand wraps the rosary hanging from my neck as Mace sits back, letting his big body drape into the pillows as he watches us with dark eyes. He isn't done, not yet.
"Father," I whisper, studying Mace in his priestly robes, "forgive me, for I have sinned."
"Back to the classics, now are we?" Mace asks, his lip curving up into a small half-smile. He watches as Hawke pounds me into the bed, putting his hand on the back of my head and forcing my cheek against the mattress for extra leverage. My fingers curl in the sheets as pleasure courses through me, and I try my best to keep it contained. I'm submissive in bed, sure, but they have to work for it. I'm not giving Hawke the satisfaction of a second orgasm just yet.
He pulls out of me suddenly and steps back, cracking a palm against my ass.
"Get up on the bed and straddle Mace's cock," he commands as I glance over my shoulder at him. Looking back at Mace, I can see that he's stroked himself into another hard-on. Scrambling up the sheets, I lift my plaid skirt up around my hips and straddle his muscular thighs. Our eyes meet as Mace puts his hands on my hips and lowers me down around his cock.
Our fearless leader isn't far behind, putting his dick up against my ass as he leans down and growls against my ear.
"Next time you piss me off, you're not getting off so lightly."
He pushes into me slowly, stretching my body as I curl my hands around Mace's shoulders and try to relax. With two thick cocks inside of me, I feel like I can barely breathe. But in a good way. I love it, the two of them inside of me at once. I might be the bottom in this scenario, but it feels like in all the ways that matter, I'm in control here.
I wonder what it'd be like if they were all in here with me ...
The thought is there and gone in an instant, snatched from my mind by Hawke's hand curving around my throat, drawing my head back so he can kiss me. His mouth keeps hold of mine as he drives in with brutal thrusts, claiming my ass while Mace's hands hold my hips firmly in place.
This time, I can't fight the second orgasm. It tears through me like a firestorm, burning me to ashes, but leaving something new and better in its place. I can't explain it, but it's there, this new feeling of belonging, like maybe I've found a home and a family in a place I didn't expect.
It's a weird thought to have, in the middle of a threesome, but once that ember is there, I can't seem to put it out.
Mace comes hard inside of me, both of us finishing before Hawke finally does, groaning and collapsing into the pillows beside us. I'm convinced he's going to kick Mace out of his room, but instead, he pulls me into his arms and says nothing when his friend crawls under the blankets, leaving just a scant six inches between us.
I have to admit: I am thoroughly fucking impressed.
This might just work after all.
Chapter 15
Natalia
When I wake again, my whole body aches but I don’t fucking care. Only a fraction of my pains are due to the tortuous sprint Hawke forced me through, and the rest just make me smile and stretch like a happy cat.
A strong arm snakes around my waist, tightening and pulling me into a hard, hot chest.
“Go back to sleep,” Mace rumbles, his face buried in my hair.
For a moment, I allow myself to relax in his hold. I’m sick of holding onto my resentment towards their dumb bet. They can throw around as much money as they want, it shouldn’t stop me from getting what I want. What I need.
But something’s wrong.
“Where’s Hawke?” I whisper, my voice groggy from sleep and exhaustion.
Mace grumbles something against my skin, his lips moving against the back of my neck.
“Huh?” I ask, having no idea what he just said. The hard length of his cock pressing against my ass is making it hard to concentrate, too.
He gusts out a sigh. “He’s dealing with Janet,” he tells me, speaking clearer.
I stiffen in his embrace and his arms tighten around me.
“How do you mean?” I question, keeping my voice carefully calm. My jealousy has only intensified after the night I’ve spent with Hawke.
“You were very loud last night, Talia,” Mace informs me with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Janet was somewhat … upset about it all.”
I think for a moment, deciding if I feel bad about that. Nope. No guilt here.
Instead, I chuckle.
"Evil," Mace comments, but his hands have started roving and I know that my evil streak turns him right the fuck on.
A sharp knock on the door interrupts what's bound to be an awesome way to wake up, and I groan.
"Go away," I yell out, giving zero shits who it is at the door. If it's one of the guys, they won't take offense. If it's Janet? Well, Janet can go fuck herself with a cactus for all I care.
The door opens and Weston strolls in, looking smug as shit. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you two about to fuck? How rude of me."
"Like you being here would stop us," Mace taunts, sliding his hand down my belly and dipping between my wet folds. I moan and arch my back, putting on a deliberate show for Weston, whose eyes light up with desire.
He blows out a breath, swiping his tongue across his lower lip and sucking his piercing into his mouth. "Tempting. Really fucking tempting. But Hawke sent me up here to let you know we leave in an hour. Job's happening tonight."
Right. The job. Of course. That's the whole reason Janet’s here, after all.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not the kind of girl who just gets claws out at any other vagina in the remote region of her men, but Janet is a whole other situation. Hawke admitted to sleeping with her. She basically propositioned him in front of me. Yeah, she's no ordinary vagina. She's a threat.
She's also badass as hell, so I better be careful or I'm liable to get my ass kicked. There is no doubt in my mind that I'm still wet behind the ears. And, you know, other places as well.
"An hour, huh?" I ask, pretending to think for a moment. "Since I'm not going with a blowout or a full face of makeup, I really only need fifteen minutes to rinse and slip into my clothes. What am I supposed to do with the other forty-five?"
Weston's face splits into a grin, even as Mace growls from over my shoulder.
"Oh, don't be like that," West says, sauntering into the room and pausing near the edge of the bed. I can smell his distinctive musky scent from here, and it reminds me of a predator, but a playful one, like a fox or something. Mace, on the other hand, is more like a bear. "You shared with Hawke last night. What's so different about this?"
Mace sits up, and I shiver when I glance back and find him shirtless and glaring with those dark blue eyes of his, like the ocean beneath a winter storm, almost black in their depth.
"Hawke is our leader, and I'm not stupid enough to think that I'd do a better job. What he says, goes. You were not invited."
West smirks and saunters over to me anyway, cupping my chin in one hand and then leaning down to capture my lips with an almost infuriatingly gentle
kiss. “Maybe you didn’t invite me, but Natalia … if she played her cards right, she might just get me to stay.” Big puppy dog eyes do their trick and he softens up almost instantly. When I turn those same eyes to Mace, ehh, it takes a bit of eyelash batting to get him to relax.
"We're a team, right?" I say, because we're supposed to be. I don't know much about the Blackbirch Company, but they're just the ones cutting the checks. This group, it's supposed to function like a family ... or something. "And besides, even though I know I shouldn't be, I'm invested."
"Invested, like how?" Weston asks, lifting up a single pierced brow.
My skin feels suddenly hot and achy, like I'm trapped inside it. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all? And yet, that feeling of possession from last night is there. Knowing that the guys were holding back to protect me, because of Portia, because she was too involved ... that changes things. Well, you know, everyone except for Arsen, but he's graded on a different rubric. You can't fix crazy.
"I ..." The word mine flickers through my brain, but how am I supposed to bring that up without sounding like a complete crazy person? Jesus, Natalia, get those ovaries in check. "Never mind. We should probably just get ready before—"
"You're kidding, right?" West says, moving close enough to the bed that his legs press up against the mattress. "No way you get to tease us with that shit and then hold back." He reaches out to ruffle up my sex-mussed hair, and I slap his hand away. Unfortunately, Mace also seems to have homed in on my half-assed statement.
"Explain," he grumbles, and one of his big hands lands on my thigh, warmth sliding up to the place that wants it most. My body shivers and I close my eyes against the sudden need. "We won't judge." I give him a look that he returns with a stony-faced stare of his own. "We murder for a living. There's no pedestal here."
Weston exhales a sharp breath and then steps back to close and lock the door. If Hawke comes up and finds his door locked, with me screwing two other dudes in his bed, I imagine I'll get another spanking or two. My ass stings as I adjust myself on his super soft mattress (seriously, what sort of dick leaves 'his' girl to fend for herself on a gross, lumpy old mattress while luxuriating on this thing?!).