His million watt smile made her cheeks flame, and she willed herself not to cover her exposed pussy with her hands.
The gravel of the driveway was about as conducive to heels as a 100 degree day was to ice cream, and she stumbled several times, Parker’s grasp saving her from an ignominious tumble. Worse than stumbling though, was the wobble of her exposed flesh as she haltingly walked in the torturous shoes.
“How does anyone walk in these things?” she ground out under her breath as she faltered once more, saved by his viselike grip on her upper arm.
“Practice, girl. You’re going to be getting plenty of it.”
She flashed him a questioning look when instead of guiding her to his truck, he directed her down the driveway.
With a grinding of gravel, trying to extricate herself from his grip, she stopped in her tracks. His grip tightened, and he continued walking. When she stood her ground, he turned to her, eyes narrowing. “Walk, Ashley.”
Despite the t-shirt, she felt especially naked outside in broad daylight, essentially dressed like a hooker. It felt like there was a spotlight on her pussy, the curls just peeking out from below the hem of her shirt. “I can’t walk that far in these, Parker.”
He stood directly in front of her, releasing her arm to tip up her chin with his finger. His cold gaze locked with hers, her heart galloping at the intensity she saw in his eyes. “You’ve already got punishments coming, Ashley. If you don’t move, you’ll only add to them. It’s your choice.”
Searching his face for playfulness or mercy, she found neither.
He stepped close and reached around her hip, slapping her ass, hard. “Do you want me to spank you right here, girl? I will, if you need it.”
She swallowed. “No, Parker. Sir.”
He grinned, white teeth bright in the sunshine, and extended his arm toward the house. “Well then.”
The three hundred feet downhill to his house felt like three hundred miles, made worse by their proximity to the main road the closer they got to Parker’s house. She dreaded what would happen if a car happened to pass by the driveway entrance.
Please just let me get there without breaking an ankle.
Absurd thought, that. He had such a grip on her, that she felt like a ragdoll compared to his strength, completely under his control.
A fresh surge of moisture slickened the lips of her cunt at the thought.
Thankfully no cars were to be seen, and she sighed in relief once inside Parker’s home.
Then her mouth went dry.
Drake was sitting in the living room, his long legs crossed as he read the paper. His dark eyes flicked up, then pointedly lower as she stood in the foyer between the living room and dining room. “What are you two doing here?”
His deep voice washed over her, and her cunt spasmed. She felt like sinking into the floor. She tensed her body, ready to flee. This was too much.
Too much like your fantasies, you mean?
“Be still,” Parker rumbled at her ear.
“Hey Drake.” Parker’ grip tightened on her arm. “We’re just gonna get Ashley cleaned up and address some … business. Don’t mind us.”
Something passed between the two men, so swift she almost didn’t catch it. An acknowledgment?
You’re delirious, Ash.
Drake said nothing, folding his paper in his lap and staring at her. Her eyes were drawn to the paper, and his lap. She could see the prominent and growing bulge there. Her mouth felt like the fucking Sahara.
“Parker, not with—”
“Nonsense. Drake lives here.” He dragged her by the arm down the hallway. Thankfully once in the corridor, Drake’s dark gaze no longer bored into her — but she wondered what was coming next.
Parker flipped on the lights as they moved deeper down the hallway, the air cooler, sheltered from the sun. Recessed ceiling light washed both of them in muted warm illumination as they walked down the corridor.
They passed a door at their right that had a bolt latched with a silver lock. “Where does that go?”
He glanced at it, then at her, considering. “The basement.”
She looked at the lock, and decided now was not the time to ask why they needed to padlock their own basement door.
He brought her into his room, turning on several banks of lights. The room was huge, and everything about it bespoke maleness. The bed frame and headboard was a deep dark wood tone, possibly cherry or stained walnut, and looked as stout as a tank. It seemed big enough to sleep about five people. The dark bedspread was a deep maroon, almost purple color, the deep pile carpet a charcoal gray. There was little else in the room, save a plush, deeply padded chair and ottoman in one corner, a spot directing warm light directly down upon it. A reading light, or something else?
Ashley shivered at the thought.
“Bathroom is this way,” Parker said, hand outstretched. “Take off your shirt though.”
She turned her head to look back down the hallway, for the door to the bedroom remained wide open.
“Just do it, girl. You can’t take a shower with your shirt on can you?”
Pulling it over her head, she handed it to Parker, who folded it in his hands and draped it over the back of the chair. He pointed toward the bathroom, his expression sober. She looked down at her feet, and back at him, questioning.
He chuckled. “You can take them off in there. I want to watch you walk first.”
Blushing as she walked, she felt his gaze on her ass, the heels lending her hips an exaggerated roll and sway.
Then she walked into the bathroom and gasped.
Chapter Fifteen
Maybe she’d gotten a little cocky, too sure she could handle whatever the gorgeous man standing in the doorway behind her could dish out. When she saw the shower she knew she was a fucking idiot.
Oh Lord.
Parker’s laugh rumbled behind her. “Like it? It took forever, and a shitload of money to get it this way. I can’t wait to try it out.”
She turned her head back toward him, feeling even more naked now than she had before. “You mean you’ve never used … it?”
He shook his head, the grin on his face somewhere between angelic and wolfen.
The bathroom was huge — almost as big as his bedroom. The room was done in a dark slate tile, with gold fixtures. A roman shower seemingly big enough for an entire football team dominated most of the room, frosted glass doors accented with gold trim and long burnished handles masking the interior. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t what elicited her shock.
It was what hung above the shower.
Chains.
Silvery links of stainless steel reached up to a block and tackle that sent chills down her spine. The first images that popped into her head were those of a side of meat, hung up for inspection. Ashley shivered. The block and tackle assembly was suspended from stout ringbolts embedded in a bare old-growth timber that spanned the ceiling of the bathroom. The chains terminated in rubberized cuffs, currently hanging open. She felt a simultaneous urge to flee, and a morbid curiosity about how those cuffs might feel clasped around her wrists.
Parker’s hand along the small of her back gently urged her forward.
Standing at the threshold of the huge shower, Ashley looked up at those chains. “Why …?”
A hand stroked the curve of her bare hip. “Because I enjoy it. You’d better get used to it, because you won’t have a free moment in that shower. You’ll always be bound in there — whether you’re attending to one of us, or we’re attending to you.”
Us.
“Parker. I don’t think I can do this.” She backed up and collided with his solid chest. Muscular arms descended immediately upon her, wrapping her tightly in their strength, squeezing her back against the hard planes of his body.
Warm breath tickled her ear. “Problem?”
“I—I just can’t.” She tried to twist from his grip, but his arms tightened further, pressing a gasp from her. If it weren’t for those
chains hanging above them like asps, the feel of his strength would have had her panting, and her pussy gushing. As it was, all she wanted to do was get away.
Parker turned her in his arms, marching her backward until her heels struck the base of the shower wall, her back against the frosted glass. His lips were turned down in a frown, those eyes assessing, not missing one bit of her reactions. “Tell me. Why does the idea frighten you?”
“It doesn’t frighten me, Parker—” a muscle in his square jaw clenched “— sorry, Sir.”
“Then what is it? I need to know.” His hand caressed the vulnerable weight of her breast. “This is all about communication, Ashley. If you don’t tell me, I won’t know, can’t prevent you from being hurt.”
“This is about making me helpless. Hanging up in here like a side of beef.” She affected a scowl at him. She wanted to be helpless though, on her knees, taking that big cock of his into her mouth. But the idea of being bound, helpless in the shower. Something about it … was it unease? Dark fascination? Both?
“Side of beef? No. Making you feel helpless? Definitely.” He squeezed her breast firmly, drawing a breathless sigh from her. “Rendering you helpless should go without saying, girl. Especially in here.”
She looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.
Parker’s eyes roamed down, drinking in her naked flesh. Instinctively, she covered her sex with her hands.
“Now, you know better than that I think.” His fingers seized both of her hard nipples, the gentle squeeze a warning. “Drop them, Ashley. Now.”
Reluctantly, she dropped her hands, , forcing them to hang at her sides. His hand stroked the dark fur of her mound. “As fetching as these curls are, this needs to be bare. Soon enough.” He gave a tuft of her pubic hair a playful yank.
With Herculean will she kept her hands where they were, clenching them into little fists lest he see how much her fingers trembled. It was just being bound, tied up. Why the hell was she having this kind of reaction? Terry had never tied her up. He’d demanded her compliance without it — though she had no doubt there were times he would have resorted to it had it become necessary.
Parker tapped the underside of one of her breasts, the flesh jumping. “Arms up, now Ashley. Along the glass.”
His intent gaze took in the way her breasts moved as she reached up, stretching further at his growling insistence.
“Sir, please. What if … ?” She flicked a glance toward the door. The fact that it remained wide open was perhaps the most galling aspect of this surreal situation. It felt to her as if she were stripping off in a public place, all eyes on her, on her shame, her wanton display of her body. What about Drake? Would he really come in while she and Parker were in there together?
Why didn’t that possibility not completely mortify her?
Stupid question. Stupid girl.
A hand stroked her neck, felt the pounding pulse just under the skin. “Higher, Ashley. Grasp the top of the glass. That’s right, good.”
She knew she should protest, demand he at least he close the door. But she also knew it would likely earn her a reprimand of some sort. Worse, a tiny, but insistent part of her was intrigued, maybe even a little … excited, at the danger of it. She had no clue she’d been harboring latent exhibitionist tendencies.
Parker stood back, crossing his arms, his cool gaze dropping pointedly from her face to take in her exposed flesh. He shook his head slowly, stroking his chin, a finger making a rough noise through his stubble. “You’re not eating enough, you know that?”
“I eat more than enough, Parker. Sir.”
Sure she was a little thinner than normal, but ordinarily she’d have done a happy dance at that fact. The real reason behind it was what sobered her up.
His fingers traced over the lines of her flat belly. “I like definition in some girls, but that isn’t your body type. You’re made to look like a woman.” His palm spread over her belly, stroking oh so slowly. “To please your man, to take him in. Provide him refuge, comfort.”
“I could use a little less refuge, actually,” she murmured, her self-deprecation an automatic, reflexive response. Her curves, while appreciated in more recent years, were anything but, as a teenager. She’d felt like a cow next to her athletic friends. And she’d seen the way boys’ eyes passed right over her, merely scenery, before they fixated on her friends’ lithe perfection.
What was it about teenage boys? And why were some men apparently so different? Perhaps it was merely a case of taking a few years to grow into her body. Regardless, now, even though men told her otherwise, she still struggled with that urge to hide, to just fade into the background, to let the beautiful people bask in the attention.
“Nonsense, Ashley. You’re too thin.” He stepped very close, crowding her against the glass with his big body. “We’re going to make sure you start eating more. I want this body filled out, your curves back to full glory. You’ll just have to adjust, I’m afraid.”
Swallowing, she looked up at him. His fond smile was belied by a far-off shadow in his gaze. “I don’t need to eat more, really. Don’t you like skinny girls?”
His grin sent butterflies fluttering in her belly. “I like healthy girls, Ashley. This little body of yours —” his heavy hands settled on the slopes of her hips “—was meant to be lush, feminine. I’m not looking for wan stick figures. And neither is Drake.”
“W—what?” The vain, competitive part of her exulted in the fact that he found her attractive, that Drake — who clearly could have any woman he set eyes on — would possibly find her appealing.
Jesus, Ash. Get a grip. You’ve got more important things to worry about than impressing boys.
“Oh sure.” Parker eased his hips against her, the hard length of his cock under his slacks rubbing along her belly. Threatening, promising. “He likes women with something to hold onto, something to rest his head on.” Parker’s eyes flashed. “Something to spank.”
“You mean he’s … like you?”
Parker’s laughter rolled through the tiled room, the richness of his pleasure making her wonder if she’d missed some inside joke.
“His needs match mine, if that’s what you mean. You’ll find out soon.”
Oh fuck …
“First though, we need to get our little prey trussed up. We wouldn’t want you to get away, now would we?”
She gulped.
A long finger pressed between her trembling breasts. “Will you be a good girl and stay in position? Do I need to bind you now?”
The stern clench of his jaw convinced her obedience was the better course of action, at least at the present. “No … Sir.”
He beamed. “I like that you’ve taken so quickly to that, Ashley. I’m glad to see it.”
Being inordinately proud of his praise made her feel both giddy and ridiculous. She wasn’t a twelve year old girl trying to impress a cute boy at a middle school social. Yet, here she was stark naked before the towering form of Parker, basking in smug self-satisfaction because he’d deigned to express pleasure at her behavior.
You’re messed up, you know that?
His long fingers worked down the front of his dress shirt, more of his tanned flesh exposed with each slip of a button. When he spread his shirt wide, pulling it from the clutch of his slacks, she had to remember to breathe. And not drool.
He discarded the shirt, and she drank in the tanned, muscular sight before her. His broad shoulders seemed to go on forever, the cords of muscle there flexing as his hands worked his belt free. The powerful chest called out to her hands to stroke all that smooth, hard muscle. She watched the tight abdominals bunch as he folded the black leather of the belt back upon itself, snapping it against his palm a couple of times and grinning at her startled jerk. He hung the belt from a towel hook. “We’ll just save that for later.”
She inhaled sharply as he moved to her, his hand wrapping around her nape, a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Stay right here.”
His lips brus
hed hers, his hand tightening on the back of her neck. Then he walked out, Ashley’s avid gaze traveling down the long, muscled vee of the back that tapered down to a trim waist. The slacks perfectly outlined a firm ass she’d been longing to get her hands on since almost the first moment she’d met him. There was power there that she couldn’t wait to experience, to feel. Thus far, he hadn’t let her touch him much at all, and she realized then that she’d missed it, wanted to explore that powerful male body, revel in the feel of that strength which spoke to her in the most primal of ways.
She felt the exposure of her position acutely as she stood there, her back pressed to the cold glass in the dead quiet of the bathroom. Why the hell did he leave?
Her hands came down off the top of the glass, and she made a frustrated sound, battling with herself. Yes, she knew nobody would know if she took her arms down to cover her breasts, to give her a much-needed respite from her blatant exposure. But she also knew if would be just her luck to have Parker saunter back in there to catch her hurriedly reaching for the top again, caught in her act of disobedience.
Maybe …
She took her arms down, crossing them over the swells of her breasts, and stuck her chin out. She wasn’t going to be some fucking doormat. Her pussy tingled at the thought of the fight to come, and the inevitability of her losing it. He needed to know that she wasn’t some broken, scared little animal, desperately seeking the succor of a strong, wealthy man.
A strong, wealthy, gorgeous man.
Then Parker reappeared in the doorway … and he wasn’t alone.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Parker’s grin belied the words, his eyes dancing with a mischievous pleasure.
Drake’s massive frame filled the space next to Parker, this new presence in the room ratcheting the tension in her body into the stratosphere. She looked from Parker’s pleased smile to Drake’s stony, dark gaze. Absurdly, though she should have been mortified at the situation, her eyes alighted on the dark lashes of Drake’s eyes. Not for the first time she resented the fact that so many men seemed to have the beautiful eyes that women spent hundreds of dollars and hours of torture to get.
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