Missionary Position (Masters of the Prairie Winds Club Book 7)

by Avery Gale

  For the first time, Fischer new exactly what was going through Lara’s mind. It wasn’t so much that he could hear her, but the combination of their prior friendship, his experience as a Dom, her unusually bratty behavior, and the unmistakable body language clue she’d just given them made her easy to read. When he’d wrapped his fingers around her wrist he’d felt her stiffen and then as her heartrate accelerated so did her anxiety. Unfuckingbelievable. She still thinks we don’t want her? How is that even possible? Fuck, I told her we planned to keep her.

  Fischer hadn’t intended to broadcast his thoughts to his brother, but he hadn’t made any effort to conceal them either. ‘If you’d stop and think about it, you’d know the answer to that question.’ Peter’s voice broke through his thoughts and it took everything Fischer had to not respond out loud. He could practically feel his brother rolling his eyes as he moved around the sofa and settled next to Fischer. “Tell us what you want, Lara. Stop hiding behind your fear and walk through it to get what you want.” Fischer watched her eyes go glassy with unshed tears and he was afraid his brother was pushing her too hard.

  Peter leaned forward putting his fingers under Lara’s chin bringing it back up so they could see her face. “Don’t hide—not from us and not from yourself. There is no right or wrong answer. There are not expectations other than the truth.”

  Fischer felt her pulse accelerate even more and watched her eyes dilate as her breathing quickened as well. “Baby, you’re thinking too much. Stop trying to figure out what you are supposed to say or what you think we want to hear, because the only thing we want to hear is what’s in your heart.” When he felt her tremble he leaned closer, “How about if I ask you a couple of questions to get this started?” She nodded quickly and he felt his heart clench, knowing she was still so reluctant to tell them what she wanted from them told him exactly how poorly they’d handled the situation.

  “You were a brat earlier and that is pretty unusual for you, can you tell us why you think that might have happened?”

  He wanted to smile when she pulled in her bottom lip, chewing it silently as a wrinkle formed between her brows in concentration. “I remember thinking that I should just stop, I knew I was messing up, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I just—I just needed something and I don’t even know what. And even when I knew you were getting angry, I just kept pushing. And I didn’t care that you were punishing me for it because I knew you would take care of me.”

  Fischer just nodded, he’d known she was pushing, but until Peter pointed it out, he hadn’t know exactly why. “You know there are rules and they are there for your benefit, right?” When she nodded, he continued, “And when you misbehave, you know there will be consequences—always. So by acting out, you were assured my attention and the comfort of something consistent because you haven’t had much consistency the past few days, have you, baby?”

  Her eyes went impossibly wide and realization lit up her eyes just before tears spilled over and she whispered an apology he didn’t feel was necessary. Peter leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Precious girl, don’t apologize for needing your Masters attention, but it might be easier on your backside if you found a better way to express that need.” She nodded and shifted ever so slightly as if Peter’s mention of the swats she’d gotten reminded her about her tender cheeks.

  “Now, for the bigger issue here—you were rubbing your neck, any thoughts about why?” Fischer wasn’t going to pussyfoot around, he was going to hit her with it straight and make her not only confront her needs, but express them as well.

  He wasn’t surprised when a fresh wave of tears began to fall. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it until you grabbed my wrist.” They let the silence between them build knowing she was hoping they’d bale her out and neither he nor Peter planned to let her hide behind her fear any longer.

  Lara closed her eyes, and Peter’s gentle, but demanding voice ordered her to open them so they could see her—hiding was simply not an option any longer. Fischer saw her take a deep breath and let it out in a rush before the words they’d been waiting to hear began to tumble out in a rapid stream of consciousness jumble. “I’m afraid you don’t want me. No…that’s not really it…I’m afraid you aren’t going to keep me. I know you said you would, but…well, it’s just that it was so easy for my parents to walk away, and if the people who are supposed to love you no matter what, are willing to leave…well, it’s really arrogant of me to hope you’d want to stay. And besides, how can I ever hope to keep two gorgeous men satisfied for Pete’s sake? Just look at me…I’m no model that’s for sure. And you said you can’t read me and I know that bugs you and you haven’t ever said that you wanted to be committed to anyone so I don’t know why I even hoped you would want to go there with me. But the more time I spend with you the harder it is to think about losing you and I can’t even imagine working at Dark Desires and seeing you with someone else. I’m sure I’d just die a thousand deaths.”

  Fischer lifted her onto his lap and Peter at the other end of the short sofa pulled her small feet into his own lap. He gently pushed his thumbs in small circles at her arches making her moan and he felt her entire body relax. “Mi amõre, we’ve done you a huge disservice by letting you feel as if you’re adrift.

  “We certainly didn’t mean for it to seem as if we didn’t want you or that we were undecided about keeping you. What we had intended to do was to let you get focused on the trouble your parents have managed to get you embroiled in before we sat down and had this discussion—and not because our feelings for you are hinged on the outcome, but because we didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Fischer felt her shudder and knew the adrenaline that had driven her burst of openness was ebbing and the coming crash was probably going to be a big one. “All that being said, I for one still don’t want to have this discussion right now. You are both mentally and physically spent, and even if you aren’t of a mind to take care of yourself, we are.”

  Lara tucked her chin against her chest sighing and the defeated sound tore at his heart. She started to stand, but he and Peter both held her still. “I think I’d like to go rest for a bit and then I’ll head out to my grandparents for a few days. This is why I should have kept quiet—damn my big mouth anyway.”

  Fischer felt his face contort with frustration but Peter’s glare froze the words he’d been about to say right in his throat. How she could be so insecure when she was everything they’d always wanted was beyond confusing and starting to get damned annoying. “You’ll go and rest, but then you’ll be going with us to the club. Let us make something very clear—if you try to handle this situation on your own in any way, we’ll tie you naked in front of the bar at the club and hand a paddle to each Dom who walks through the door. We’ll let them each take a turn until we believe you have come to your senses, and then we’ll fuck all the good sense right back out of you right then and there.”

  The ice-cold fear that pulsed through her was unmistakable. Peter had hit two of Lara’s biggest hot buttons and Fischer didn’t have a doubt in the world she would avoid that particular punishment like the plague. As a natural blonde, Lara’s skin was always creamy white, but she’d actually paled even more at the thought of being so publically punished. What she didn’t know was that neither he nor Peter were particularly fond of public scenes, preferring to keep what belonged to them out of the view of others. And they would never deliberately humiliate her. Oh, they’d push her boundaries—hell, Fischer knew it was their job as her Doms to push them, but humiliation wasn’t their kink and it damned well wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to send her screaming in the other direction.

  Fischer pressed a kiss to her temple, “Cupcake, I want you with everything that I am—and I have since that first moment standing in the reception area of Dark Desires. And there are very few moments during the day that I’m not thinking about ways to get you naked and spread out for my pleasure. Believe me when I tell you, me not wanting you is the least of y
our worries.” This time the shiver he felt move through her was all about arousal rather than fear, and he was probably more pleased than he should have been by that.

  Standing with her still in his arms, he made his way down the hall to their bedroom as Peter followed. He really had planned to simply tuck her in for a nap, but when she pressed her lips to his neck and whispered, “I need you,” all of his good intentions were melted by the flames of desire.

  He and Peter both shed their clothes in record time after Fischer laid her on the edge of their bed. Peter moved down to her feet, once again pressing his thumbs against the arches of her feet, he told her to open for him and Fischer felt his own cock thump against his abdomen in response when her legs opened wide without hesitation. “Fucking beautiful. Mi amõre, your smooth pussy, all slick and swollen with desire is fucking gorgeous. I’ll never get tired of this view, I can promise you that.”

  Fisher wouldn’t have even needed to look, he’d have known the instant his brother’s fingers slid through her wet folds just by watching the slight bowing of her back and the flush that quickly spread over her chest. Lara Emmons might be a trained submissive, but she was so responsive her body often reacted before her mind could regain control. Closing the gap between them, Fischer stroked her cheek with the back of his finger, the gesture was a silent demand for her to turn toward him and she didn’t disappoint.

  “Open for me, too, baby. I want to watch my cock disappear into that sweet mouth of yours. I want to watch it sliding between those beautiful red lips of yours as you take me time and again to the back of your throat.” As she opened and he pressed forward, Fischer couldn’t hold back his groan of satisfaction. “Holy fuck, every time I think it can’t get any hotter, you prove me wrong.” Peter was obviously upping the stakes and when she groaned in response to whatever diabolical tricks his brother’s mouth was playing, Fischer worried he might come long before he wanted to. No woman had ever wreaked so much havoc with his control—Lara had completely bewitched him.

  “She tastes exquisite. And I can tell when our woman is getting close to climaxing from the sweet taste of her honey, so you’d better remind her that she hasn’t been given permission to come yet.” Fischer had to grit his teeth to keep from reprimanding his damned brother for making Lara groan in frustration because the vibration had almost sent him over the edge.

  ‘If you want in on the party you had better get inside her and fast. Holy hell she is taking me clear to the back of her throat and then swallowing—it’s the sweetest kind of torture.’ Peter didn’t waste a second, he moved so fast Fischer barely had time to pull back before he grabbed Lara’s ankles and yanked her quickly so her ass was nearly hanging off the bed and in one quick thrust, he was fully seated balls deep. Fischer took a quick step to the side and managed to slide back between Lara’s lips just as she screamed at Peter’s sudden intrusion. “Holy fucking hell, baby, you undo me!” He hadn’t intended to come so quickly, but feeling her throat muscles massaging his already over-sensitized cock was too much. “I’m coming, cupcake. Don’t waste a drop of my gift to you.”

  Fischer felt the searing fire of his release shoot from deep in his balls before blasting from his cock in hot jets. The muscles of Lara’s throat tightened around him pulling him deeper each time she swallowed and for a few seconds he thought his orgasm might never end. “Holy fucking Christ that was unbelievable. Thank you, baby, you are far too good at that.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the century? Hell, he’d gone over much sooner than he’d intended to, but he could tell by Peter’s muffled curses he wasn’t far behind.

  Peter felt the first flutters of Lara’s climax just before he gave her the command to come, knowing there was no way she’d be able to pull back after Fischer had come. He didn’t want to punish her for coming without permission and damn it all to hell, he wasn’t going to be able to hold out anyway. Peter slid his arms under her legs, hooking her knees over the bend of his elbows, changing the angle of penetration so the hard ridge of his cock head pressed against her G-spot with each thrust and Lara’s gasp let him know just how much she’d appreciated the shift.

  “Your responses feed my pleasure in a way I’d have never imagined possible, mi amõre. Come with me, let’s go over the edge together.” Before he could even take a breath Lara’s muscles locked around his cock like a vise trying to pull him deeper into her body and he was lost. His vision actually blurred and darkened to the point he wasn’t sure his legs were going to continue holding him up. He’d never had sex without a condom before Lara and he knew he never wanted to give up the intimacy of the skin-to-skin contact. Peter couldn’t imagine a world without Lara in it—hell, he didn’t even want to think about it.

  Even in his sated state, Peter wanted to rage at the situation they’d found themselves embroiled in. Damn it all to hell, for a bunch of former Navy SEALs, they sure weren’t making much progress finding Lara’s parents. And as soon as they got her settled in to rest and his legs would carry him back down the hall, he planned to start making calls. Neither he nor Fischer wanted to move forward with the relationship until Lara was free to make decisions without being under the unnecessary stress of worrying about her parents. But he was getting damned tired of waiting and she obviously needed the security of knowing where they stood.

  After cleaning up and settling their very drowsy, but sated sub in to rest, Peter stalked into their home office and hit the speed dial number on his phone assigned for Micah Drake. After a short conversation that told him abso-fucking-lutely nothing, Peter swiveled around in his chair to lean back and looked out the window behind his desk that looked out over the city. He didn’t believe Lawrence and Rita Emmons were missing—it was far more likely they were hiding out, waiting for their daughter to remove the contents of the safe deposit box so they could step in and reclaim the contents. Peter knew Fischer felt obligated to give Lara’s parents the benefit of the doubt—as the strongest empath in the family, Fischer had always been the most compassionate simply because he understood others’ pain so well.

  Thinking back on their childhood and how much Fischer had struggled, until their parents had finally pulled their youngest son out of public school, Peter couldn’t help but wonder how his younger brother had managed to hold out as long as he had. After that, their mother had homeschooled him, their grandmother had worked to help Fischer build shields to help protect him from the barrage of psychic energy he was exposed to in public places. Fischer had been able to attend private high school and college, but had known he couldn’t follow his brother into the armed forces. Peter had not only understood, he’d encouraged his brother to follow another path—even though he was kept out of combat situations whenever possible, his exposure to intense emotions couldn’t be completely avoided. As the least powerful empath in the family, Peter had known how much more his younger brother would suffer, and he’d spent a lot of time encouraging Fischer’s pursuit of other ways to fulfill his need to help others.

  Peter felt his brother enter the room before he heard him. “I’m not sure I ever thanked you for you that, you know. You saved my sanity and probably my life. I’m grateful for all the time and energy you spent encouraging me to find my passion.” Fischer settled into the large leather chair behind his own desk and swiveled to face Peter. “And oddly enough, you were the only one who didn’t seem surprised when I took the job Cam suddenly offered me, don’t suppose you’d want to tell me why I got that offer?” Peter wanted to roll his eyes at Fischer’s thinly veiled insinuation.

  “We’ve been over this—a couple of times as I recall. I got you the interview, but you landed the job all on your own. Hell, you know Cam as well as anyone, do you really believe he’s the type to hire a second-in-command as a favor?” Peter knew his brother had always felt as if he’d been “given” the job and then earned it later, but that simply wasn’t the case. He might have asked Jax and Kyle to help Fischer get an interview, but his younger brother had earned the position he’d
gotten.

  “And I wasn’t surprised that you were interested in working at a kink club because we’d shared women a few times and I knew how much you enjoyed it.” And the more time Peter had spent with Kent and Kyle West after they’d married Tobi, the more interested he’d become in a polyamorous relationship. Jax and Micah’s marriage to Gracie had also served as a motivator, and Peter smiled as he thought about the two women he now considered to be close friends.

  Neither Tobi nor Gracie was a particularly well trained submissive—despite their husbands’ best efforts. But both of them had big hearts and were loyal friends. And according to Fischer they’d both quickly befriended Lara when Cam and Cecelia Barnes first introduced them—hell, that alone would have earned the two sweet subs his favor. But the truth was, it was damned fun watching them run roughshod over his friends. Their combined military experience and records were nearly legendary and their reputations as sexual Dominants was almost as impressive. But when it came to their wives, all four men were putty—and Peter was nothing but envious.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fischer wanted to laugh as he listened to his brother’s thoughts wander in an ever-widening arc. Peter might have started out thinking about Lara’s case, but he’d quickly become distracted by the woman herself. It was not like Peter to be so unfocused, the challenges facing Lara had certainly derailed him. And her ability to shake him clearly showed how much different Lara was from the other women the two of them had shared—she was “the one” and Fischer was thrilled she affected Peter as much as she did him.

  Peter and the others seemed to be ready to throw Lara’s parents to the wolves for the danger they’d exposed their daughter to, but Fischer was withholding his judgement until he knew exactly what had taken place. His mind kept rewinding to a comment Lara had made when she’d seen her father’s Bible in the box that had been delivered. She’d remarked that her dad would not have sent it unless he believed he wouldn’t be coming back. It was her insistence that he wouldn’t have willingly parted with it unless he’d been forced to, Fischer kept coming back to. Forced? Or perhaps he was trying to send a message?