A tendril of fear coursed through her. “How many hits?”
“We’ll have to determine that. We’re going to have to feel our way through it at first. I won’t order you to move in with us, so some of the rules we have won’t be practical for you. When I set up a rule, you get to ask me to modify it before you agree to it. But when you do agree to a rule, I expect obedience, and honesty if you screw up. Or if you find it’s something that won’t work on a practical level, I expect you to talk with me about it and ask for a modification. Understand?”
She’d had rules with John.
And punishments.
One time early in their relationship, she’d forgotten to turn her phone back on after a doctor’s appointment. She’d come home after shopping for hours to find him waiting for her with a worried look on his face that had flashed over to stern disappointment once he realized she was okay.
He hadn’t said anything, just held up his cell phone before he pointed at the bedroom. She’d immediately realized what she’d done and rushed in there, getting naked and lying over the end of the bed without even asking why.
Twenty strokes, hard ones, with a paddle. Sitting down the next day had been uncomfortable, to say the least, but she’d never forgotten to turn her cell phone on again. And after the punishment, he’d held her while she’d cried, then made love to her. While the sting from the paddle had quickly faded, what had taken longer for her to get over was the look of relief on his face when she’d walked through the door, and then hearing him admit how scared he was that something might have happened to her.
She’d hated putting him through that.
“Yes, Sir,” she said. “I’ll accept your rules and punishments.”
He gently tipped her chin, staring into her eyes. “You just went somewhere in your head,” he said. “Where did you go? What were you thinking about?”
Gooseflesh rippled across her skin. It was something John had said to her before in the past, eerily tuned in to her moods.
She told him.
Grant pulled her close again, pressing his lips against the top of her head for a long, tender moment. “Normally,” he finally said, “I’d be trying to put the brakes on and say time out, wait a minute, we need to slow down.” He looked into her eyes again. “It’s been a lot of years since we’ve been together, but somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, is it?”
“No, Sir,” she said. “I don’t think so, either.”
He rolled over on top of her and she felt her body responding. He took her hands and pinned them over her head, sending her on a dizzying spin over the edge into subspace.
Yeesss…
She had to remember to breathe, because all she wanted to do was stare up into his eyes, memorize every line on his handsome face. He’d gotten even better looking since high school. They both had.
“You haven’t slept with anyone since your husband?”
“No. Just a couple of guys before him, in college, but we were married sixteen years. And we were monogamous.”
“Are you on birth control?”
She nodded. “I forgot to get my prescription refilled…after. But I started getting migraines again every month and got back on it.”
He smirked. “So that’s a yes?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he whispered. He shifted position slightly, and she felt his cock pressing against her, the thin material of his swim trunks and her sarong and bathing suit not much of a barrier. “We’re clean, it’s been over six months since we were with anyone else, and we always used condoms. We just got new tests last month at our checkups. But if you want us to use condoms until we all get new tests, we will.”
She shook her head. “No, Sir.”
His smile widened. “Well, we’ll be using them for anal,” he said, watching her. Gauging her reaction, she’d guess.
She felt her breath catch. “Yes, Sir. John used to, too.”
Her pulse raced as he positively beamed. “Oh, sweetheart. We are going to make you such a happy girl.”
“I have one request.”
“Yes?”
“Well, two. No marks that I have to explain where I can’t hide them.”
“That’s a given.”
“And no…ass to mouth. Or…stuff like that.”
He laughed. “No worries. That’s a hard limit for us, too.”
“Can I ask something else?”
“You can always ask anything, sweetheart.”
“I know I can’t spend every night with you guys, but can we spend a lot of nights together?”
His expression softened. He leaned in, brushing a soft, sweet kiss across her lips. “As many nights as you want. Maybe on nights when Kyle’s over at our house, I can come sleep over at yours. We’ll figure it out.”
She didn’t want to start crying again, but she’d been lonely. So damn lonely. “Thank you.”
“I’ll need to get you a collar and cuffs.”
“I have some,” she softly said.
He studied her for a moment. “With you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He sat up, swinging off her. “Go blow your nose, wash your face, and use the bathroom. Then get your cuffs and collar and bring them to me.”
Heart racing, she got up to follow his orders.
* * * *
While she was doing that, Darryl returned with their stuff. “Just bring everything in here,” Grant told him.
He did, stowing their things at the edge of the room, out of the way but still easily accessible.
Grant sat on the edge of the bed, crooked a finger at him, then pointed at the floor in front of him.
Without hesitation, Darryl dropped to his knees, his forehead resting in Grant’s lap.
Grant stroked his hair and leaned in to whisper to him. He knew Susie couldn’t hear them from the bathroom. “Who’s my good boy?”
“Me, Sir.”
“Unlike past situations, we don’t need a very long talk or lengthy negotiations. She wants to be with us. Both of us. And she wants us to be monogamous, just the three of us. Are you all right with that?”
“Hell, yes. Yes, Sir.”
Grant chuckled. “I suspected you would be. We’ll start out slow with her, but I think what she needs most at first, besides the attention, is the safety and structure of protocols. You’ll be my alpha slave, and she’ll be our beta. Are you all right with that?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Do you have any questions?”
“May I get naked now, please, Sir?”
Grant bit back his laughter. One of their rules was that Darryl didn’t wear clothes at home, unless he was cold or they weren’t alone. If they were alone, he was naked.
“Not yet.” He patted his shoulder as she returned to the bedroom. “Sit back.”
Darryl did. Susie went to her overnight bag, which sat on the dresser, and quickly retrieved the collar and cuffs, bringing them over.
Grant took them from her and pointed at the floor next to Darryl.
An unmistakable look of relief filled her face as she not only sank to the floor, but bowed, her forehead resting on the tops of his feet.
And she started crying again. Silently, her chest hitching and jumping as she nuzzled the top of his feet with her forehead.
As his gaze met Darryl’s he started to choke up, seeing Darryl near tears as well.
Damn.
He fingered the collar and cuffs. Good quality, soft, supple, hand-tooled leather, the edges skillfully wrapped with leather lacing. Celtic knots were embossed all across the black leather, which had obviously seen loving wear for years.
Darryl stared at her for a moment, then looked up at Grant. Grant knew what he wanted and nodded.
Darryl slid closer to her, his arm draped across her back, and bowed, his head nuzzled against hers. After a moment she took a deep breath, sniffled, and leaned into Darryl.
“Sweetheart,” Grant asked, “did you bring the hex
key for your day collar?”
“Yes, Sir,” she answered without moving.
“Do you wear that day collar all the time?”
“No, Sir. I can’t wear it at work. Well, I guess I can, but I shouldn’t.”
Darryl softly snickered and Grant quickly leaned over and nudged him with his hand to silence him.
She wouldn’t understand that one of their good friends, Tony, used that phrase all the time.
“Okay,” Grant said. “Where is the key?”
“It’s in a small velvet bag in my purse. In the outside zipper pocket.”
“Do you want to get it, or do you want me to get it?”
“Can you please get it, Sir?”
He laid the collar and cuffs on the bed and slowly moved his feet, careful not to accidentally kick her in the face, so he could get up and retrieve the key. He found it exactly where she said it would be, the small hex wrench tucked in a velvet bag.
Grant had to adjust his swim trunks before returning to sit on the edge of the bed again. His cock throbbed and only through sheer will was he not fucking her silly right that instant.
“Sit up, sweetheart,” he gently said.
She did, Darryl sitting up with her, his arm still around her, her still leaning into him.
Grant cradled her chin in his hands. “Tell me what you want from us, sweetheart. We need to hear you say it.”
“Please be my Masters,” she tearfully whispered. “Please?”
He caressed her cheeks with his thumbs, brushing her tears away. “Darryl can’t be your Master, but I might let him Top you from time to time. He’s my slave, and you’d be my slave, too. He’s my alpha slave, you’d be my beta. Is that all right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Already in his mind, Grant was picturing the day collar he wanted to find for her. A charm bracelet, something innocuous that she could wear and he could take great sadistic pleasure in outfitting with things he knew would have meaning to all three of them. Something no ‘nilla would ever be able to guess had anything other than an innocent symbolism.
Something that, every time her eyes fell on it, would make her wet and tingly.
He picked up the leather collar and buckled it around her throat. “Darryl, strip and put your cuffs and collar on,” he said.
He stood to do it.
She still wore her bathing suit, and the sarong. Despite being red and teary, her green eyes still looked gorgeous to him. “Wrists,” he softly said.
She immediately held up both hands to him, without hesitation.
This had to be a bittersweet occasion for her. He took his time buckling them around her wrists, the one on the right above her day collar. He took the hex key and unfastened the day collar, watching her reaction as he did, waiting to see if she’d break down again or not.
She didn’t.
“Darryl.”
He stopped what he was doing and returned to them. Grant handed him the bracelet and the key in the pouch. “Put these with yours.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Grant stood, took her hands, and gently tugged, urging her to her feet. Then he knelt and buckled the ankle cuffs around her feet before standing again.
“Darryl and I don’t usually play with a safeword,” Grant told her. “But until I’m able to read you like I can him, you’re going to use green, yellow, and red as safewords. When I ask you how you’re doing, I expect an answer. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He reached around her and removed the elastic band from the end of her braid, combing her ponytail out with his fingers and leaving the second band at the base of the ponytail in place. “When did you start coloring your hair?”
“A few years ago, Sir. I started seeing grey and I picked something a little different. Mas—” She stumbled over that. “John really liked it so I kept doing it this color.”
He cupped her cheek again, keenly aware of how she always tried to nuzzle his hands whenever he touched her face. “You can still call him ‘Master.’ It doesn’t bother me. I don’t ever want you censoring yourself around us. It breaks my heart that you had to go through this pain, especially alone, but I’m thankful to him for introducing you to this lifestyle.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“He liked your hair long?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Guess what? So do I. It looks beautiful on you.” He picked up her right hand, kissed her palm, and pressed it against his cheek. “Same color, and keep it long. In fact, let it grow longer. All right?”
The ghost of a smile again. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
Little steps. He didn’t know why he was still trying to take it slow. She obviously wanted this as badly as they did, but at least it made him feel a little better about swooping in.
Then again, two years out wasn’t exactly “swooping.” More a clumsy, tumbling fall.
“And no masturbation without permission.”
“That won’t be a problem, Sir.”
“Why’s that?”
Now her gaze fell to the floor. “Not like I’ve been in the mood to do it anyway,” she admitted.
Darryl rejoined them, dropping to his knees next to Grant.
Grant tapped him on the head and crooked a finger at him to stand, motioning for him to get behind her. Then Grant stepped in, pressing her against Darryl, firmly sandwiching her between them, their arms around her.
“Last chance to back out,” Grant said. “And if you want to, we’ll understand.”
She shook her head, firmly meeting his gaze. “I want both of you, Sir. Please.”
He slipped one hand around the back of her neck, grabbing the base of her ponytail and holding her firmly in place as he paused, his lips just above hers.
“We’re going to claim you tonight, sweetheart,” he whispered. “The way I wish to hell we had in high school. And this time, I’m not letting you get away unless you tell us you want to leave. We’re going to claim you, inside and out, your body and your submission.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Are you going to listen to me? Obey me? Submit to me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
This time he kissed her, possessively, not the sweet brush of lips against lips of earlier. This time he crushed his mouth onto hers, his tongue plunging between her ready lips, giving her a taste of what she was about to get herself into.
And he knew that weekend wouldn’t be nearly long enough for them to start making up for their lost time with her.
Chapter Seven
Susie let out a soft moan as Grant kissed her. This was nothing like the quick peck he’d given her earlier. Or the countless quick, innocent kisses between them when they were kids.
This was Grant, all grown up, a man who knew what he wanted.
And he wanted her.
From the feel of Darryl’s hard cock pressed along the seam of her ass, it would seem the men were definitely on the same page.
Using the handhold in her hair, Grant lifted his mouth from hers despite her attempt to follow him. He eased her down onto her knees again and pressed her face against the front of his swim trunks. When she tried to reach up for them, to pull them down and free his cock, he stopped her.
“Stop. Hands at your side,” he said, in that tone.
A tone she’d craved to hear from someone, and never thought in her life she ever would again.
Even better, it was Grant.
She immediately dropped her hands to her side as ordered.
He pulled her face against him and she couldn’t help herself. She started mouthing his cock through the fabric of his swim trunks.
A very nice, thick cock, she was pleased to note.
He didn’t stop her from doing that, so she eagerly worked her lips all over the outline of his cock, excitement coursing through her.
Need.
Desire.
All things she’d long thought dead inside her, never to return.
Grant spoke, presumably to Darryl. �
��You owe me five, by the way,” he hoarsely said to the other man. “You got a little pushy with me when we first got to the restaurant and I was talking to Susie.”
That was something else, she loved that they still called her Susie.
John had called her that, too.
With most everyone else, she was Susan.
“Yes, Sir,” Darryl said. “I wondered if you were going to nail me for that.”
“Damn right, I am. Go get it.”
She felt cool air wash against her back as Darryl stepped away for a moment. When he returned, Grant once again pulled her head away from him with the grip on her hair.
“Stay, sweetie,” he said, his deep, throaty voice sounding like he wanted to fuck her brains out right then.
She watched him grab Darryl by the collar with his left hand, lead him over to the bed, and bend him over it. In his right, he held a rattan cane.
“Count.” That was all the warning Grant gave him before he took the first hard stroke, the cane zhwipping through the air before smacking across Darryl’s ass.
And it wasn’t any play swat, either. It left a long red welt across both ass cheeks.
Darryl flinched. “One, Sir…”
After Grant finished the five, he let go of the back of Darryl’s collar. Darryl dropped to his knees on the floor and kissed the tops of Grant’s feet.
“Thank you, Sir,” Darryl said, his voice sounding a little slurred and fuzzy.
And his cock—also very nice, now that she’d actually gotten a good look at it—stood rigidly at attention despite the five angry red welts marking his flesh.
Grant smiled down at him and stroked Darryl’s hair. “Good boy,” he said. Then his gaze fell on her. “Punishment is just that—punishment. I will be working you up to a cane eventually.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Does that scare you?”
“A little, Sir.”
“Good.” He smiled. “It means you’ll try that much harder to be a good girl for me. Don’t worry. Punishment and play are two completely different things. And I will give you plenty of warnings, at first. But once we’ve been together for a while, if I have to give you more than a couple of warnings about the same rule, then we’re moving into punishment territory. Understand?”
Initiative [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 7