“What?” she asked, wincing. “Parker—”
“Sir, Ashley. You’re going to address me as Sir from here on — when I let you talk at all.”
She glared up at him, clenching her jaw. “Sir.”
Parker’s grin was anything but warm; it was the anticipation of the wolf before dispatching his prey. He turned his head. “Drake, will you grab that oil off the dresser out there?”
Drake flashed his grin before ducking back out into the bedroom.
“I’ve been waiting for this for a long time, girl.” Parker pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “Just stay still and let us touch you. Nothing to be afraid of.” His finger raised her chin once more. “And I know part of you likes this. Relax and enjoy it — you don’t have a choice about it anyway.”
Drake returned, stepping into the enclosure, handing the clear bottle to Parker and leaning a muscular shoulder against the tile wall.
Ashley shivered at the sound of the bottle being popped open, the wet sounds of the oil being rubbed between Parker’s big palms. She gasped as he took both breasts, lifting their weight, kneading them in his strong fingers.
“That’s a girl,” Parker breathed. “I love these breasts. So soft, so vulnerable.” His hands worked the oil in, squeezing, lifting, then squeezing again, hard enough to make Ashley whine through clenched teeth.
Drake moved closer, the air in the enclosure heating against her skin. “Keep quiet, Ashley. Let him touch you.”
Her gaze rose to Drake’s as Parker recharged his hands with oil, smoothing more of the cool, slippery liquid over her upper chest, the heels of his hands brushing the slopes of her breasts. She saw something in Drake’s dark eyes, that warmth, that kindness she’d seen earlier, so incongruous with the dangerous energy that emanated from that powerful body.
“You want him to touch you too, don’t you?” Parker’s voice was nearly a whisper. “All you have to do is ask, girl. Ask him to touch you.” His hands slid down the slick slopes of her heaving breasts, the hard fingers squeezing down each breast to the tips, ending with a harsh pinch of her throbbing nipples. “You want to feel his hands. Don’t lie, Ashley. There’s no lying here.”
“Yes,” she whimpered, dropping her head. His fingers kept moving, rolling her nipples, then squeezing again, so hard the pain made her gasp. Her nipples felt like they were hardwired directly to her clit, each impulse of pain or pleasure earthing in her sex. They’d always been sensitive, able to both bring her to the heights of bliss or the depths of misery. But she’d never had someone pay as much … attention, to them as Parker did now.
“He’s waiting for you, girl.” Parker kissed her above an eyebrow. “All you have to do is say those three words.”
“I said I wouldn’t touch her … yet.” Ashley raised her head at Drake’s voice, and she smiled, despite the confusing pain/pleasure of Parker’s cruel fingers at her tender nipples. Drake was a man who kept his word; something else new to her. Did she believe him though? Either of them?
“She’s ours, Drake.” Parker lifted her glistening globes in broad palms, offering them to his friend. “All she has to do is accept it.” His thumbs brushed over swollen nipples that seemed to throb with the very beat of her heart. “Her body already does. All that’s left is the mind … and the heart.”
“Not yet, Parker.” Drake’s big hand clapped him on the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I can’t get an eyeful though. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon, right?”
Ashley turned her burning face against her inner arm at Parker’s knowing chuckle. “Nope. We’ve got all the time we need. She needs to get used to this anyway.”
Why didn’t she fight now? She knew the answer to that, of course. The aching of her nipples, the slickness between the lips of her pussy, the trembling of her thighs, told all. Parker wanted her willing surrender, her active acceptance. But Ashley knew she wasn’t prepared to give it … because she didn’t want that choice.
The truth was that she wanted it taken from her. How had she become this person?
It’s the person you’ve always been. The one he could see within you … then used that knowledge against you.
“No, Park — Sir. I can’t. I don’t … please not again.”
Parker leaned close, pressing light kisses to her hair, whispering. “Not him, girl. Not him. Not ever.”
Those strong hands, the rough palms recharged with slippery oil, roamed over her skin, heating her core, even as she shivered at the blatant demonstration of his power over her. “She needs to get used to being touched whenever, wherever, we want.” Parker, his hand leaving a wet trail along Ashley’s ribcage, looked back at his friend. “You should feel the way she trembles, Drake. Unbelievable.”
Ashley couldn’t help but watch Drake. Tension poured off of him, his brawny forearms flexing across his chest, as if he were struggling to hold himself back. His dark eyes shone with an avid glint, an intensity that should’ve unsettled Ashley, but instead, oddly, comforted her. Parker was right that she wanted Drake to touch her too, but his need to temper his lust, to rein in the strength so obvious in his magnificent physique made her feel … safer.
When it was time — when he was ready — he would touch her. And whether she was completely ready for it or not, Ashley knew she would surrender to it.
Finally.
She watched Drake’s eyes as Parker’s knowing, clever fingers traced every contour of her body. The cold oil spreading over her belly made her clench her abdominals, her attention focused like a laser on how close those fingertips were to her now burning pussy. It didn’t matter to her anymore that Drake watched. She was bound fast, unable to fight anything anymore. It was permission to stand down, an acknowledgment of reality. Fighting it lent the spice she needed, and she’d do it regardless to prove to them she was anything but a weakling, but now, helpless under those strong hands and flashing, possessive gazes, she could give up.
This is what she’d always wondered about — if submission could feel anything other than frightening, taboo. She knew now that it could, and she stood on a precipice, a vast, verdant, valley of possibilities, of discoveries — and pleasures — stretching out before her.
“Do you see it?” Parker’s voice turned toward his friend once more. “She’s understanding things now.”
“Be careful with her, Park. She’s fragile, too.”
Ashley’s eyes snapped to Drake’s, and he met her gaze unflinchingly. Was it insult, or the stunned shock of having someone see so clearly the inner girl that she hid? Was she that transparent? “How do you know? How could—”
Parker stepped into Ashley’s line of sight, forcing her to look up at him. “I want you to be quiet now, girl. Drake and I have some things to discuss, and I want you to stay silent for the time being. Can you do that?”
“What? Why?”
“Either you do as I tell you, or I’m going to gag you, Ashley.”
Hanging there in a harness, trussed up, helpless, had her feeling vulnerable enough. She needed to be able to express herself in some way though, and suddenly the thought of being forcibly deprived of speech terrified her.
“Yes … Sir.” She dropped her eyes as she said it, the heat at her face and neck as mortifying as the words themselves.
“Smart girl,” he said, patting her cheek with an oiled hand. “Now, where were we?”
She looked down, watching his hands take her breasts once more, the squeezing deep, hard, the pain almost an admonishment. Then they moved lower, encircling her waist, while the glistening globes of her breasts swayed, their curves shining with oil, the long, hard nipples an inflamed red counterpoint to their pale fullness.
“She’s got such curves, even as emaciated as she is.” Parker’s grin was evident in his voice. “Once she puts a few more pounds back on, this figure will be so lush, so curvy. Perfect for keeping our beds warm at night.”
“I think ten to fifteen more would be perfect,” Drake rumbled. “I wonder though … “
“I
do too,” Parker said, still standing close to her. The conversation was so mortifying she couldn’t bear to look up at him though, the need to avert her gaze an urge of such power, it was almost a physical compulsion. But mortification or not, her clit pulsed with an alarming urgency, those oiled hands setting in motion an uncoiling deep in her belly.
“Look at me, girl.” Parker’s gaze met hers, his brow furrowed. “No talking; I want a nod or a shake of that pretty head only. And don’t lie to me. You do and you’ll get a spanking before we go any further. Did you purposely not eat enough, Ashley?”
She shook her head, swallowing. Making her feel like a bad little girl seemed to be his specialty, and though it made her face flame, it made her pussy clench with need. Something within her, deep within her, responded to this — even needed this.
A slick hand stroked the curve of her hip, laying cool oil down in its wake. “Health problems?”
Ashley shook her head again; it wasn’t technically lying. She held onto that rationalization like a drowning man would clutch a life preserver.
“For Christ’s sake, Park, let her talk a little.” Drake raised a hand toward her. “This is turning into twenty fucking questions.”
Parker’s hands tightened around her, mirth in his voice. “Stay out of this, prick. You want to give her directions? Then stop being a pussy and come touch her.”
Her eyes met Drake’s, not knowing even what she wanted, not knowing what unspoken message he would see in her eyes. His dark eyes bore into her, searching. Then he tilted his head to the side, as if to mull something over. “Fine.” Drake’s voice was so low Ashley had to strain to hear it.
“About time you dropped the act, Drake.” Parker’s hand gripped a slick breast, holding it up. An offering. “These stiff nipples tell us what we need to know. She wants this as much as we do.” Parker’s smoldering gaze met hers. “The body betrays.”
His hands continued their exploration of her body. He coated his palms with more oil, spreading the cool slickness over her shoulders, the tips of his fingers tracing her delicate collarbones. She found herself panting gently as they moved slowly down her torso, his fingers tracing each rib, his touch as gentle as a feather across her heated skin. His palm smoothed over her belly, a wetted fingertip playing within the well of her navel. Parker chuckled at her intake of breath at the tickling exploration.
“She’s nervous,” Drake said, his tone low, intense.
Parker patted the slick flesh of her belly. “Probably worried about it — like all women seem to be.”
Ashley wanted to smack him, even as her head wanted to nod in sheepish confirmation. She knew she wasn’t fat, but she certainly felt like she could lose more weight. Despite the comments from Tara, and now Parker and Drake, she still didn’t feel comfortable with her own body. She never really had. Yet, here, helpless, on display, there was no room for such modesty.
Parker turned his back on Ashley, leaving his palm behind him, stroking her abdomen. “What do you think, Drake? Should we tell her what a man thinks when he sees a flat belly like hers?”
Drake’s grin lit up his face, then he lowered his gaze, shaking his head. Before Ashley could wonder just what the joke was, Parker had turned back to her, his soft lips moving against her forehead, his hand gently squeezing the subtle curve of her belly. “When we see it, all we want to do, all we can think about, is making it swell with our seed. Imagining your waddle as you walk, heavy with our child.”
Her breath hitched at his words, a tingling beginning in her cunt, even as her cheeks flamed.
His oiled finger stroked her blushing cheek. “Most men wouldn’t know how to verbalize it, but I guarantee we’re all thinking it. Remember that next time you’re walking down a beach in your bikini.”
“Is that all I am to you? To men?” She knew it was a mistake, but the words fell from her lips unbidden, as if they needed to he heard, no matter the consequences. “Am I just a bunch of body parts to you?”
Parker tensed, his eyes growing cold. “What did I just tell you?”
She remained silent, but kept her gaze locked with his. He had to learn that she wasn’t going to make any of this easy on him. On them.
“So, you can keep that lip zipped after all, can’t you?” Something danced in those gray eyes, making the butterflies flutter in her belly. “Doesn’t matter of course — you’re going to be punished for disobeying me. But to answer your question, yes, sometimes that’s exactly what we’ll see you as. A possession.” His fingers glided through the curls of her pubis, easing between her thighs until he held her sex in the palm of his hand. His squeeze was gentle, but the meaning underlying it was ominous. “Our possession, Ashley. Does that bother you?”
“I—”
His oiled finger wagged in the air. “No words. Yes or no.” He beamed, one sharp eyebrow quirking. “Though I know how much it kills you not being able to express yourself the way that agile mind of yours wants to, you’re going to learn how to do it, like it or not. How to do this my way.”
She hoped he could see the intensity in her eyes, the urge to snark so intense, she actually bit into her cheek to suppress it. It was wrong — even she knew that. She wanted this, wanted his control. More than that, she needed his control to be implacable, immoveable, to know that nothing she said would change the course he’d set for her. It was crazy, but the throbbing of her sex, the wetness gathering between her labia told her it was the truth of things. She knew it for what it was, the truth of her nature. Her problem was making sure she’d found the right man — men — to help her explore the full extent of that nature. Did she expect them to really know what she needed, the dark depths of her desires, when she wasn’t even sure of them herself?
“He asked you a question, Ashley.” Drake’s deep voice flowed through her, startling her. Her eyes flitted to him, his expression stony as ever, then back to Parker. She shook her head, her gaze sliding away from Parker’s as his smile broadened, the pleasure on his face both exciting to her, and at the same time almost an affront; his enjoyment of her discomfiture galled her even as she knew it was the stuff of her most fevered fantasies. To have a man take joy in subjugating her, bending her will to his.
“Good, then we understand one another, girl.” Parker stroked his palm back and forth over her swollen sex, and she moaned at the exquisite friction against heated tissues. “Quiet and obedient is how I like you, Ashley. If you remember that, things will go very well for you. You’ll have more pleasure than you dreamed was possible. We can bring you that.”
His fingers twined in her oil-slickened curls, twisting, tugging, the sting making her hiss. “But if you insist on not doing as you’re told, we can bring you plenty of pain too.” His other hand smoothed down her thigh. “But maybe you need that on some level too, don’t you?”
There was no way on God’s green Earth she was going to answer that one, no matter how dead-on accurate his assessment of her desires might be. Some things were just too raw, too dangerous for her to speak out loud. Would putting such desires in her own words somehow legitimize these two men using them against her? Absurd, though that train of thought was to her rational mind, the lust-crazed part of her that craved, needed more — much more — fought against that restraint. That part of her wanted to tell them everything, every dark, forbidden need she’d harbored all these years. She was probably the only woman on earth as twisted as she was, but that elemental force of her desire cared not a whit.
It only wanted fantasy to be made real. All of it.
His hands continued their ministrations, Parker dropped to one knee, kneading the firm muscles of her thighs, massaging the tension from them. It was wonderful, despite the tension still thrumming through her body. She hid her face against her arm, the coiling in her belly starting once more as his fingers stroked the trembling flesh of her inner thighs. Almost of their own volition, her legs spread then as far as her bound together ankles allowed, Parker’s approving murmur making her smile aga
inst the curve of her biceps.
His touch drifted down to her calves, squeezing those powerful muscles in his hands, making her legs quake, and her feet tingle. He finished with her feet, the oil slipping between her toes, his strong fingers lifting each foot slightly and pushing slow, deep strokes along each instep, the sensation making her sigh. She heard the noise of the buckle at her feet, the small chain falling to the tile.
Parker rose, tilting his head toward Drake. “Gonna need your help, big guy.”
She looked from one man to the other, their avid gazes giving away nothing. Suddenly, Parker’s hands were at her shoulders, turning her in place. Rather than twisting above her, the harness seemed to swivel at its attachment, allowing her free movement. They turned her until she faced away from them, the smooth tile filling her vision while the men worked behind her.
Hard hands palmed her upper back, slickness spreading down her torso.
“Will you look at that. Jesus Christ,” Drake said, a big hand grasping her shoulder, squeezing its urgency into her flesh.
“Quite an ass, isn’t it? Couldn’t believe it myself when I first saw it.” Parker’s voice was as filled with proud possessiveness as a little boy’s showing off his new toy to envious friends. “Wait until you see her in the jeans I got for her. Your fucking head’s gonna explode.”
Warm breath brushed behind Ashley’s ear. “You’re in trouble now, little girl. I told you he loves asses. You’re going to be walking funny when he gets done with you.”
Ashley shuddered, the movement making the chains of the harness shake.
“Shh, just be still.” Parker pressed his lips to the nape of her neck. “Nothing more than you can bear. I meant it.”
Ashley’s startled yelp accompanied strong hands clutching both of her buttocks, kneading her flesh firmly, the grip almost painful.
“Firm too.” Drake’s voice was thick, rumbling just behind her, giving her little doubt as to whose hands squeezed her ass. “How did she …?”
“I don’t know either,” Parker said, somewhere off to her right. “She wears those goddamned suits. Hard to get a read on her ass in those things, but I had a fairly good idea she was hiding a great one. No idea it was that great though.”
Trent Evans Page 17