Sierra Cartwright - Hawkeye 01 - Danger Zone

by Sierra Cartwright

  She was considering a second glass of wine when Stone walked back into the kitchen.

  He filled the space, stole her breath. She couldn’t believe it, but she wanted him, probably now more than ever, and that confused the hell out of her. How could she want a man who’d just primitively taken another man?

  “I’ll have one of those,” he said, indicating the uncorked bottle.

  She nodded. Her hand shook a bit as she poured. “So,” she said. Since the word sounded a bit wobbly, she cleared her throat. “About what just happened…” She felt the heat chase up her face.

  “Your face is the same color as the merlot,” he observed as she offered him the glass of wine.

  “Yes, well…” She blushed often and easily, much to her chagrin. Throughout her childhood, she’d been teased mercilessly. After handing off the piece of crystal stemware, she fanned her face.

  The rain still beat a nasty staccato against the windowpanes, and the fire in the great room had turned to embers.

  She backed up into the counter and spread her arms, gripping the edge as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Truthfully, her heart pounded so rapidly she felt as if it would explode in her chest. “I’m curious.”

  He took an appreciative sip of the room-temperature merlot. “Go on.”

  “Nate said neither of you are strictly homosexual.”

  “We’re not.”

  “As long as you can be the dominant one?”

  He took a drink and regarded her over the rim. “Is this a clinical question, or a personal one?”

  “I couldn’t help but hear --”

  “Because you were listening,” he interrupted. “You’re blushing again.”

  Aware of the message her body language was sending, she folded her arms protectively across her chest.

  “You couldn’t help but hear…” he prompted.

  “And I want to watch.”

  “You’d rather watch two men get it on than participate?”

  She blinked. “Participate? Like with the two of you?” Maybe she was mistaken. Maybe he didn’t mean anything of the sort. “Like a threesome?”

  “Or some variation,” he said.

  How the hell could there be a variation? She wasn’t exactly naive, but maybe he needed to draw her a picture.

  “Have you ever been dominated, Kayla? Sexually, I mean. As in made to please instead of thinking only about your own pleasure?”

  “I’ve seen your room in the basement.” There. She’d blurted it out. So much for subtle.

  “The whips. The St. Andrew’s Cross?”

  Oh, God.

  This conversation had gotten out of hand, fast.

  “I…errr…”

  “Have you ever been submissive?”

  Bored, yes. Bored enough just to lie there passively. But to actively put another’s pleasure before her own?

  “Yes or no?” he snapped.

  “No.” She gulped.

  “And you’re curious.”

  She nodded.

  “For one, you can start by answering questions honestly, with a yes or a no. Am I clear?”

  She started to nod, but then checked herself. “Yes.”

  “What intrigues you?”

  “You make it sound as if being dominated, as if being submissive is actually being active.”

  He nodded. “It is. There’s a difference in being a submissive and a victim. A submissive is expected to participate, to draw the boundaries, to be unflinchingly candid about what he or she wants. That’s what I demand from anyone who submits to me.”

  Was she going to do that? Submit to him? Put her trust in his hands? Tell him what she wanted? “I want to be on the cross,” she confessed.

  “Why?”

  Unflinchingly candid.

  Uncrossing her arms, she reached for her own wine and took way too big a drink. “I want to experience the vulnerability. The honesty.”

  “Honesty?”

  “I’m tired of running and hiding.”

  “Tell me more.”

  Oh. Her and her big mouth. She moistened her lips, then met his searing blue eyes. “I’ve always wanted more.” She paused. When he didn’t fill the silence, she added, “Sexually.”

  “You’ve pictured yourself spread open wide begging for my lash, have you?”

  This was a good time to run and hide; forget honesty.

  “Do you orgasm when you have sex?”

  “Yes. Sometimes. Most of the time. But I keep thinking there should be more. I don’t want to cuddle, like men expect me to. I don’t want sweet little words. I want to be shattered. I want to be so complete, so satisfied that I’m not able to make a grocery list in my head after sex.”

  “You’ve been having sex with the wrong men,” Nate said.

  She blinked. She hadn’t realized Nate had joined them until he spoke up. Lord. Let the ground swallow her whole.

  He pushed away from the wall. “Is our Kayla coming onto you, Stone?”

  “Seems she wants to dance with danger.” He raised his glass in her direction. Then he looked back at Nate. “You adverse to eating pussy?”

  Kayla blinked. She couldn’t possibly have heard Stone correctly.

  “I’ve done it once or twice.”

  “You any good at it?”

  “Yes. Or I was. Probably, I’m a bit rusty.”

  “Get on your knees,” Stone commanded him.

  Wine sloshed over the rim of her glass, her hand shook so hard.

  Nate immediately, unquestioningly dropped to his knees.

  This was so not what she had in mind. Her nerves were shot. Totally. Completely.

  “You want to be dominated?” Stone asked her above the kneeling man’s head.

  Did she?

  “Put down your wine,” Stone told her. When she complied, he continued, “Do you want to take a walk where you’ve never gone before? Keep in mind it won’t always be what you want or what you’re expecting. But it will always be good for you.”

  “I…”

  “Or do you want to cuddle and make grocery lists?”

  When she’d thought of being dominated, she’d pictured the two of them in the basement, her tied up, him making her come over and over again until she was exhausted and he had to take her down from the cross. She hadn’t been, couldn’t have been, prepared for this.

  “Yes, or no, Kayla?”

  Oh. God. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Yes, what?”

  “I want this.”

  Stone nodded tightly. “Keep your eyes on me. And strip from the waist down.”

  Chapter Three

  Be careful what you wish for. Hadn’t she used that as a motto her entire life?

  Well, here she was. Face-to-face with a dream coming true. And she found it terrifying as hell.

  Two gorgeous men and her in the same room. One was on his knees waiting to please her. And the other had her gaze pinned in a dangerous game of dominance and submission.

  Even though she wasn’t sure she was actually going to go through with it, she reached for the top snap on her jeans. “I need another drink of wine,” she said.

  He shook his head. “I want you clearheaded.”

  “Impossible with the two of you here.” She smiled; he didn’t smile back. And there was Nate, fully dressed, on his knees, patient.

  “Take off your pants. Now, Fagan,” Stone commanded.

  His eyes mesmerized, his voice hypnotized.

  He kept his gaze on her as she followed his orders.

  Usually, she hurried through the undressing part, and she generally had the lights off. And now she was stripping in broad daylight, in front of two men.

  She wiggled out of her jeans and then kicked aside the denim. She had on briefs, a pretty, feminine pair with little bows at the waist.

  “Nice,” Stone said. “Take them off.”

  Thankfully, trimming her pubic area was a daily practice. She started to instinctively cover herself, but then stop
ped. Instead, she let her arms dangle next to her body.

  She noticed his eyes darken with approval, and that helped her swallow her embarrassment.

  “Have you ever had your cunt licked while another man watched? Look at me!”

  She shook her head and returned her gaze to his face. “No,” she said. Her stomach was a massive knot of nerves. Is this how Nate had felt in the bathroom, when Stone had snapped orders and then fucked him ragged?

  “Are you turned on right now?”

  “I’m too nervous.”

  “Do you want to stop?”

  Did she?

  Did she want to go to her room tonight, toss and turn and wonder what it might have been like if she hadn’t been too chicken to seize what she wanted? “I don’t want to stop.”

  “You can stop anytime,” he told her. “And the loss will always be yours.”

  Tendrils of excitement unfurled in her bloodstream.

  “Turn around,” he told her. “Spread your legs, then grab your ankles.”

  Her mouth was dry. He knew exactly what he was asking. Before Nate tongued her, she’d have to expose herself to both men.

  He didn’t reissue his command. He waited for her compliance. Knowing it was completely up to her whether she did or not, she took a deep steadying breath.

  Her turn wasn’t as grateful as she would have liked it to be, but no one seemed to notice, or care.

  She bent over and grabbed her ankles. Her long auburn hair hung down, all but brushing the tiled floor. Kayla closed her eyes, unable to believe she was doing this.

  “Spread your labia for us,” Stone said in a tone that flowed with silken sensuality.

  Funny, in that moment, now that the embarrassment was fading, she wanted to do what he said. She wanted the experience.

  Was there anything more intimate?

  Within moments, she was opened wide. Exposed. Vulnerable.

  “Beautiful.”

  That came from Nate. And from this upside-down position, she had a good view of his knees.

  “You said you weren’t aroused,” Stone said, and she heard humor laced through his tone.

  “I wasn’t. But I’m getting there.”

  “Davidson, figure out what she likes,” Stone said to Nate.

  She understood a lot more about dominance and submission in that moment. Nate didn’t hesitate as he moved in, settling his hands on her thighs.

  She quivered.

  And she remembered the way Nate had dropped to his knees without protest when Stone told him to.

  It really didn’t matter if he liked to eat pussy or not. He would do it regardless, because Stone was the Alpha. His Alpha.

  She had a lot to learn.

  “Keep your pussy lips spread for me,” Nate said.

  Two of them. Two men telling her what to do. Two of them showing approval and demanding her compliance.

  She was delirious with excitement.

  “You’re wet,” Stone said as he watched Nate stroke her cunt.

  “Lick me!”

  He did.

  He swept his tongue from back to front, starting at her ass, crossing her vagina, and then up her clit.

  Her knees nearly buckled.

  “Grab your ankles again,” Stone said. Then to Nate, he added, “I think she liked that.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, I liked that.”

  “Do not come,” Stone said, “until I give you permission.”

  “What?” She was gasping, wiggling, wanting more.

  “My game. My rules. You want to play, or do you want to stop?”

  Nate licked her. Her clit was throbbing, and the first waves of an orgasm were uncoiling deep inside her.

  She moved her hips just a little, silently asking Nate for more.

  “Kayla?”

  Nate stopped entirely.

  She pushed herself upright as quickly as she could and spun around to face both of them. Bastards! “Damn it!” She glared directly at Stone, sparing him none of her wrath. “Damn you.”

  Like the lord and master of the manor, he folded his arms across his chest. His blue eyes blazed with intensity. “You say you want to be tied to the cross, and that requires total trust. It also requires your cooperation. If you’re not going to cooperate now, how can I trust you to later?”

  She scowled, feeling at a disadvantage. She was half naked in front of two sexy, sexy men, they were both fully dressed, and her clit was throbbing in an insistent demand.

  “What’s it to be?” he asked.

  “You get to control my…” She nearly sputtered. “My orgasms?”

  “Only if you want to play with me.”

  “And me,” Nate said.

  “You two are impossible.”

  “And you are bad-tempered. Probably because you’re sexually frustrated.”

  “There is that.”

  “And you’re right. It is about turning over control. And learning to control your own reactions to prolong the pleasure. Quit fighting yourself. Quit fighting us.”

  Quit fighting him.

  This was really what she wanted.

  Kayla turned around and bent at the waist, spread her legs obediently and exposed her pussy like Stone expected.

  “Good girl.”

  She waited and waited. When she nearly gave up hope, Stone finally broke the silence, saying, “Continue.”

  Nate moved in; he licked her slowly, as if savoring her taste. Then he drew her clit into his mouth and pressed on it with his tongue.

  She gasped.

  She began undulating, feeling that orgasm nip at her insides.

  “Control yourself,” Stone said.

  She wanted him, wanted both of them.

  “Breathe,” he coached her. “In and out.”

  She wondered if that would work when she had his cock in her mouth and he was ready to come? She couldn’t wait to pull away and suggest he restrain himself.

  She struggled to keep her breath even, and it became more and more difficult as Nate sucked on her, nibbled on her, licked her.

  “Focus somewhere else,” Stone said.

  Then she felt Nate insert a finger into her pussy. She cried out. “I need…”

  In and out. He simulated the sex act, and she was nearly undone, knowing that Wolf Stone, her commander, was not only watching, he was orchestrating the entire scene.

  “Please,” she said.

  “A few more seconds.”

  She couldn’t. No way. She couldn’t last past her next breath. She’d never been this turned on, this wet. She gasped, she panted. She could no longer think.

  “Now.”

  Ruthlessly, Nate shoved a second finger in her.

  She screamed.

  Her pussy clenched around his fingers.

  She shattered.

  The orgasm was more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. She could no longer support her own weight.

  Stone was there, to catch her, to help her, to hold her upright.

  She collapsed into his arms.

  “Milk?” he asked.

  Kayla frowned. “Milk?” she repeated.

  “Guess she wasn’t making grocery lists,” Nate said.

  When Stone captured her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss, she surrendered completely.

  “Oh, oh,” she said, lacing her hands around his neck.

  He raised a brow. “Hmm?”

  “I want more.”

  “Insatiable wench,” Nate said.

  They had no idea…

  Chapter Four

  “Pizza?” Stone asked.

  “I’m ravenous,” Kayla said. “I think we still have a feta cheese and sun dried tomato one in the freezer.”

  “Nothing with pepperoni?”

  “We ate those first. And I think Mrs. Johnson would prefer we ate some fruits and veggies.”

  “A man needs meat,” Stone said. “I’m going to fire her.”

  “You’re both heathens.” Nate shuddered, then opened the
refrigerator door. “Kayla, set the table and pour some more wine. Stone, go do whatever it is you do in your Batcave, and I’ll cook something decent.”

  “I suppose this makes you think you’re staying?” Stone asked.

  “Unequivocally.”

  “You weren’t invited,” Stone reminded him.

  “Didn’t expect to be.”

  “You could still leave.”

  “I could. Then you’d have frozen pizza for dinner.”

  “Again,” Kayla supplied.

  “You can stay through dinner.”

  “Big of you.”

  What the hell was it between the two of them? Obviously they’d had some sort of relationship in the past. Stone was a man of few, but sincere words, so she didn’t think he’d been making casual conversation when he said he hadn’t wanted Nate there. And he had left him out in the weather…

  “Something decent” turned out to be magnificent.

  As Nate defrosted steaks, he threw together a salad, and warmed a loaf of French bread.

  Kayla happily helped, despite her appalling lack of domestic skills. She knew how to microwave, fry eggs in a pile of bacon grease, brew coffee in a percolator over a campfire, hotwire a 1970s car with her eyes closed ,wasn’t squeamish about field dressing an elk, could bandage up someone good enough to get them to an extraction point, but blending homemade salad dressing was somewhere out of reach.

  “This kitchen is wasted on Stone,” Nate lamented, turning on the stove’s indoor grill feature. He adjusted the gas jets until the flames suited him.

  “He had the house built,” she reminded him.

  “Because the designer convinced him it would have a higher resale value with a fabulous kitchen.”

  “And just how is it that someone who’s highly trained in search and rescue knows how to prepare a gourmet meal out of a handful of ingredients?”

  “Just because I can rappel from a helicopter to save your butt doesn’t mean I don’t have taste buds. And I’m good at improvisation, no matter the situation.” He popped a radish in his mouth. “Thank God someone stocks his refrigerator.”

  Mrs. Johnson was amazing. She came in once a week, brought fresh food, and fussed over Stone, well, as much as he’d let anyone fuss over him. Kayla’s jaw had dropped when the older woman had actually pinched his cheek and called him Wolfie.