Mastering Angela [Passion Peak, Colorado 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tara Rose

  All she had to do was say “yes,” but breathing was suddenly difficult. A thousand images flashed though her mind, all of them more erotic and decadent than anything she’d imagined or dreamed yet. Ian and Nash were both here, with her, caressing her ass cheeks. One of them brushed his finger along her pussy, and she couldn’t hold back the loud moan. When he increased the pressure of his finger on her soaking wet slit, Angela began to shake her head slowly back and forth.

  This was overwhelming, but at the same time, she wanted it. She wanted to submit to both of them. She wanted to please them. The idea of being flogged, paddled, and she didn’t know what else by both was everything she’d wanted for years. Their intimate touches, and the fact they were obviously enjoying her reaction, only served to further increase her desire. She was going to come if they didn’t stop, but she didn’t want them to.

  “She likes this,” said Nash. His voice was soft, but she heard it anyway, full of humor and lust.

  “What’s your answer, Angela?” asked Ian.

  “Yes, Sir.” She was overcome with competing emotions again, but quickly recognized that lust was at the top of the list this time. Lust, apprehension, elation, and even disbelief. Was she dreaming this? “Yes. Please continue, Sir.”

  Angela heard a sound that she could have sworn was them high-fiving each other. Once again, she pictured herself poised on the edge of a cliff, only this time instead of executing a perfect swan dive, she drove off the fucking thing, just like Susan Sarandon and Geena Davis had done in Thelma & Louise.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh shit.” Something stung Angela’s left ass cheek first, then her right one, in rapid succession. When the stinging moved to her pussy, she cried out loud. Lips grazed the side of her head, and she inhaled Nash’s scent.

  “It’s a leather riding crop. What color are you right now, Angela?”

  Ian stopped as they waited for her to answer. What color was she? It hurt, but the rush of endorphins flooding her body was just as intense as the pain. The desire to please them was so strong it surprised her. “Green, Sir.”

  “I’m so proud of you.” Nash’s soft kisses along her neck forced another loud moan from her. The crop came down on each ass cheek again, and then softly tapped her pussy. Nash stroked her hair. “Use your safewords if you need to, Angela. You’re doing great.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Nash.” She realized her slip-up one second too late, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, Ian continued to smack her ass cheeks with the riding crop, alternating with taps on her pussy. She was beyond wet now. Angela suspected if she were able to sneak a peek at the floor underneath her, it would be wet with her juices. Surely Ian could see that by now, and that realization excited her even further.

  The pain was beginning to break through the fog of euphoria that had once again settled in her brain, and she knew she needed to stop the scene, or at least ask for a break, but guilt held her back even while she was now crying out loudly with each strike of the crop on both her ass cheeks and pussy. She wanted so badly to please them both, and didn’t want to appear amateurish to them. The fear of disappointing them outweighed her need to escape the searing sting on her ass, but she also knew she was done.

  Nash’s lips brushed her neck again, sending a hot white jolt of desire straight to her sore clit. “Are you all right, baby girl?”

  “No. Red.”

  Ian stopped immediately, and one of them pulled off the blindfold. Nash’s concerned face came into view. “Are you okay, Angela? Do you want us to take off the restraints?”

  “I’m not sure.” Tear spilled over her lids, and she had no idea why. She was so damn embarrassed. What was wrong with her? Before she could even begin to try and figure out why she was crying, the spreader was off her ankles, the cuffs were off her wrists, and Ian was leading her toward one of the benches set into an alcove. He sat down and surprised her by pulling her onto his lap.

  She cuddled against his warm body, and when Nash took a seat next to him, he handed Angela her mini shorts and panties. “Don’t want to lose these. I’ll be right back. Going to wipe off the bench and grab our stuff.”

  “I feel so foolish, Ian.”

  “Why?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

  Angela pulled slightly out of his embrace to search his face for any sign of insincerity, but there was none. “For crying. For calling a safeword so soon.”

  He shook his head. “Angela, those aren’t reasons to feel foolish. You took a lot of impact. I’m impressed, and so proud of you.”

  “Really?” She had an image of melting into a large pile of goo, right there in his lap, at his words.

  He smiled. “Really. Tell me something. What was going through your head right before you safeworded?”

  She tried to remember, but it was as if her brain had turned to oatmeal. “I was overwhelmed. So many things.”

  Nash returned, took a seat, and then held out his arms. “If Ian doesn’t mind, I’d like to hold you for a while.”

  She glanced at Ian, who nodded, and then she crawled onto Nash’s lap. He put his arms around her and she leaned into his strong embrace, trying to make sense of everything she felt. Angela sighed as she let her gaze travel over each man. She still had trouble believing what she’d just gone through at their hands, but the burning on her ass cheeks reminded her that it was real.

  “I was just asking Angela what was going through her head before she safeworded,” said Ian. “She feels foolish for crying and stopping the scene.”

  “Please don’t,” said Nash. “This was your first time in a real scene, Angela. I’m very proud of you. Safewords work both ways, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Trust is mutual. You trust us as Tops not to violate your limits and to stop when you safeword, and we trust you as a bottom to know when you’ve reached those limits or need a break.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize that.”

  “Most people don’t. They come here and watch some of the edgier scenes and think it’s all about tying someone up and beating them until marks are left. What they don’t realize is that a Dom/sub relationship is really all about trust and communication. Not everyone in this lifestyle plays like Ian and I do, and not every Dom enjoys using impact play on his sub.”

  “What else is there?”

  Ian and Nash exchanged a surprised glance, and Angela felt foolish all over again. She had so much to learn.

  “Plenty of things,” said Ian. “Being a submissive is about service at its core, Angela. It’s about giving up control to someone else. That Dom in turn cares for you, protects you, and makes sure your needs are always met. The kinky sex is a bonus that we both just happen to enjoy. Some people are into bondage more than impact play. Some are into edgier stuff like fire play or wax play, and some subs are merely service oriented.”

  He brushed a finger along her left arm, and she shivered at his touch. “But no matter what is going on during a scene, safewords are in place to keep you from getting harmed as much as to keep a Dom from harming a sub. They work both ways.”

  That voice… it sent her thoughts to dark, decadent places. She swallowed hard. She had assumed that calling a safeword was cheating somehow. Would she ever figure all this out? And what would happen now?

  She glanced at each of them in turn. Both men looked so relaxed and unaffected. They probably did this all the time, and her reaction was normal to them. But it didn’t feel normal to her. Should she keep talking? Did they want to know anything else? She had no frame of reference here, and felt a bit lost and unsure. “You asked me what was going through my head. I didn’t want to disappoint either of you. I felt guilty that it was suddenly too much for me.”

  Nash frowned. “Never do that. Okay? Seriously. If you need a break, say so right away. Promise me, Angela.”

  She almost reeled back from the intensity of both the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice. “Okay. I promise.”

  Nash cut his gaz
e toward Ian for a brief moment before fixing his eyes on her again. “Angela, when I invited you here tonight, it was with the assumption that you would only watch. I’m not complaining about what we did, but I don’t want you to think we had this planned.”

  “Me either,” said Ian, a bit too quickly. He averted his gaze for a second, and when he glanced at her again, she nearly gasped at the look of lust and admiration in his eyes. “Angela, I’ve had such a crush on you for so long. When you told me you were going to be here tonight, I was so damn happy. But I don’t want you to think it was only so that I could paddle you or touch your body.”

  Angela stared at him while she let his words sink in. He’d had a crush on her? Why hadn’t she known that before tonight? Nash cleared his throat and took his arms from around Angela. She didn’t miss the annoyance that passed through his eyes, or the way his full lips were now set in a thin line. “I think Angela could use some water. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched his retreating form then turned to face Ian. “Is it something I said?”

  Ian was watching him, too, with a look somewhere between confusion and regret on his face. What the hell was going on here? “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s something I said.”

  “I don’t understand, Ian.”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  “You’re not a very good liar.”

  He chuckled. “You know, if you were my sub, I’d spank you all over again for saying something like that.”

  “I’m not your sub, though. I’m not anyone’s sub. And if what just happened is any indication of how I react to being restrained and hit with a riding crop, I’ll never be anyone’s sub.” Angela stood and pulled on her panties and mini-shorts, feeling very self-conscious as she did so, but not wanting to be half-naked in front of Ian right now.

  “Angela, please don't let your head get into that self-defeating state. I wasn’t kidding when I said there is so much more to this lifestyle than impact play.”

  She took her seat again. “I believe you.” How could she explain to him what she meant when she couldn’t even figure it out herself? How could she tell him the fantasies she’d had for years, or how many times she’d tried to share them with Brett, only to have him scoff at her? And if she mentioned Brett, there would be the inevitable questions again. She couldn’t handle that right now.

  Nash returned and handed her a large bottle of water, which she drank without stopping once. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until she’d taken the first cool sip. When she finished, Ian and Nash both watched her, sipping from their own bottles.

  “So, what’s next, Angela?” asked Nash. “Do you want to walk around and watch some scenes, or try something else with us? Tell us what you want to do.”

  Before she could think of an answer, Ian raised his eyebrows. “But first of all, are you okay hanging out with both of us tonight?”

  A muscle twitched in Nash’s jaw. Angela wasn’t sure what was going on between these two, but clearly something was brewing under the surface. The air was thick in the alcove, and alive with emotions she couldn't quite put a finger on.

  “I would think she was cool with it, or she would have said something by now, don’t you?” Nash’s voice was clipped and tight, and he didn’t look cool with anything. He looked like he wanted to shove Ian through a wall. He turned his gaze toward her. “Isn’t that right, Angela?”

  She nodded, wishing she’d handled this differently from the outset. “Um, look, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on right now, but I do not want to be the source of contention between you two.”

  “Too late,” muttered Ian.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing.”

  Angela glanced from one to the other, fighting against the dizziness that suddenly enveloped her. She needed some fresh air. She wasn’t going to stay here and play these head games. Whatever was going on with these two wasn’t something she wanted any part of.

  Disappointment washed over her like a shroud. This had started out as the most exciting and erotic night of her life, and in the space of less than one minute it had just turned to shit. Angela stood. “Dom or no Dom, Ian, I don’t like people playing head games with me.”

  Ian looked like he wanted to crawl under the bench on which he sat. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Angela, please sit back down,” said Nash. “You look like you’re ready to fall over.”

  He was right, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on here. You both invited me. I texted you to let you know that Ian knew I was coming as well. Was that wrong? Was there something else I should have done?”

  “Sit down.” Nash’s voice held the same note of command he’d used on her earlier. But they were no longer in a scene. She felt more foolish than she had the first time she’d found out that Brett had cheated on her. She’d come here tonight with such high expectations, and now they’d all been reduced to this single confusing, embarrassing point in time. How the hell had this happened?

  “I would appreciate an answer to my questions, Nash.”

  His gaze softened, but only a little. “You did nothing wrong, Angela. Now please sit down. Neither of us wants you to pass out.”

  The fact that he was right didn’t escape her consciousness. She still felt dehydrated and weak. This was crazy. If she couldn't handle a bit of hard impact play, how the hell would she handle anything else? What was she doing here? This was a joke. Her fantasies had been just that—the stuff of fairy tales and badly written books. Clearly, she had no idea what she was doing, and now they both knew it. How would she ever get out of this with any shred of dignity left?

  She couldn’t stay here any longer. She didn’t belong, and whatever was going on between them was proof of that. She glanced from one man to the other, wishing she could find the magic words to make sense of this clusterfuck, but knowing there weren’t any. She’d choked, plain and simple, and they were obviously pissed off at each other. Though she still didn’t understand why, clearly it had something to do with her. It was over before it had even had a chance to begin.

  “I’m sorry. I really am. I fucked up. Thanks for everything, just the same, but I’m going home.”

  As she turned to leave, Nash stood and grabbed her arm. A second later, Ian did the same. The two men exchanged an angry look, and that was all it took. Angela shook them both off. “Enough already. Work this out, you two, whatever it is. Good night.”

  “Angela, please don’t leave. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She ignored Ian’s voice. Even him sprinting behind her and trying to grab her arm again didn’t stop her. Nash was suddenly blocking her way, and Angela watched anger cloud his face as his cell phone rang.

  “Fuck. I have to take this call. Please wait a minute, Angela.”

  She didn’t. She turned her back on both of them so they wouldn’t see that she was about to cry, and then she sprinted up the stairs. By the time she reached the crowded back hallway, she was trying so hard to hold in her tears that her stomach hurt.

  As soon as she reached the safety of her car, she sat still and let it all out, because there was no way she could drive like this. When she was finally able to catch her breath, she started the ignition and pulled around to the main driveway. A man she didn’t recognize stood next to a sports car, arguing with several of Nash’s security guards, just to the right of the gatehouse.

  Angela wasn’t even curious. She simply wanted to get the hell off this property and go home. She eased past the ruckus and onto Cheyenne Boulevard, wishing like hell she had never come to Indulgence in the first place.

  Chapter Six

  “Tommy, it’s Nash. I just got a call from my security guard out front that Trace Coleman is here. He was turned away at the gatehouse, but he pulled off to the side and is still out there, arguing with my guards.”<
br />
  “I’m on my way.”

  After Nash disconnected the call with Tommy, he punched the wall so hard that he was certain he’d just broken a bone in his hand. He was also shocked not to see a hole in the drywall. “Of all the fucking times for that asshole to show up! What the fuck just happened downstairs? With Angela, I mean?”

  “I wish I knew,” said Ian.

  “You wish you knew? Ian, what was that crap about having a crush on her?”

  “That’s why you’re upset with me?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Ian. That’s bullshit.” He and Ian had known each other all their lives, but they hadn’t become close friends until college. They’d shared a lot of wild and crazy experiences together over the years, and this wasn’t the first time they’d both Topped a bottom during a scene. But then Ian had to go and say that shit to Angela about having a crush on her for years, and everything had changed.

  The surge of jealousy coursing through Nash’s body at those words had surprised him and thrown him off guard, and Nash didn’t like being caught off guard. Sure, Angela was a beautiful girl. She always had been. But Ian had never shown a spark of interest in her before. If he had, Nash would have known about it. Why the fuck had he said that?

  “You’re actually pissed off because I told her that.”

  “No shit.”

  “Why? It’s true.”

  “Oh come on.”

  Ian averted his gaze. “I don’t tell you every fucking detail of my life, Nash.”

  “You’re serious. That wasn’t just a line you fed her.” That had not occurred to Nash. Not even for a second.

  “I shouldn’t have said it in front of you like that. I’m sorry. I really am. I fucked up tonight.”