“Great.” Logan nodded in satisfaction, and the three of them passed the rest of the journey across town by indulging in more general chit-chat.
It surprised and fascinated Fiona how James and Logan could so easily switch from talking about sex and kink to a vanilla conversation. But then, they’d been in the lifestyle for some time now. It was a part of them, so why wouldn’t it be natural? They weren’t solely successful businessmen, just like they weren’t solely kinksters. They had many facets to their lives and personalities, and she was learning more about them all the time. And the more she learned, the more she liked them. She was being taken along on this amazing ride with them, without knowing how long it would last. All she could do was make the most of it. If nothing else, she’d come out the other side with a bunch of unforgettable experiences and valuable knowledge.
Really, she had nothing to lose. Except maybe a little bit of face, and she also ran the risk of ending up with a broken heart.
A broken heart? She chastised herself. Heart had nothing to do with this. This was three people having safe, sexy fun together, and that was the extent of it. James and Logan had each other, loved each other—that much was obvious. There was no room for a third person in their relationship—not on a permanent basis, anyway. She was just a pleasant addition for the time being, and as long as they continued to treat her as respectfully as they had so far, she’d stick around until things fizzled out or until someone else caught her eye. Maybe she’d even meet someone at a fetish event. Now that would be interesting…
She’d been so caught up in conversation with the men that she hadn’t been paying the slightest attention to where they were going, so was surprised when the car pulled to a stop outside a nightclub she’d never heard of. Apparently, lots of other people had heard of it, though. The queue was even longer than the one at the last event she’d attended.
The driver opened the door, and Logan climbed out before leaning back in to offer Fiona his hand. She took it, relishing the heat that trickled through her veins at the skin-to-skin contact. To her confusion, he led her right past the queue and to the front, where he approached one of the security staff. Instead of kicking their arses to the back of the queue, as she’d expected, the guy opened the rope barrier to let the three of them pass. She made a mental note to ask what the hell that had been about when they were alone.
Whipping some cash from his wallet, Logan paid the cashier before Fiona had even found her purse in the voluminous bag. She opened her mouth to protest, but Logan waved a dismissive hand. “My treat. I’m still making up for last time, okay? Now, come on. Let’s go and get changed.”
It was then she realized that James carried a couple of smart black holdalls, and she wondered what the two of them would be wearing this time. The variation on outfits for men didn’t seem as wide as for women, which she thought was a shame. She’d quite like to see James—and Logan, for that matter, though it’d probably never happen—in a pair of arseless chaps.
Nice.
“What are you smirking at, Fiona?” Logan asked, having apparently adopted his Dominant persona.
She, on the other hand, hadn’t decided who she was going to be tonight. Did she have to decide, though? Did she have to stick with either Dominant or submissive, or could things be fluid? She was still finding her feet, testing her limits and trying to figure out where she fit in. With Logan, she was a submissive—albeit a sassy one—and liked indulging in some light impact play, before being ordered to her knees to suck his engorged cock.
But with James, she enjoyed taunting and teasing his delicious body until he begged for release. Other times, though, kink and D/s didn’t come into it at all. More than once the three of them had simply tumbled into bed and pleasured each other in myriad ways until they passed out with exhaustion. There was no set order to what happened when they were together and no expectations. The only given was that they’d all have a great time.
Tonight would be no exception, she knew. So why bother to plan things out, or to steer them in a certain direction? She’d just put on her slutty schoolgirl outfit and go with the flow. James and Logan would look after her, make sure she was safe, so this was the ideal opportunity to dig deeper into the fetish world, to check out what made other people tick, and to maybe uncover a little more of what made her tick. It was a win-win situation.
“Just looking forward to the evening,” she replied, shrugging. “Where do we have to change?”
“Come on,” Logan took her hand again, “I’ll show you.” Leading her to the ladies’ changing area, he then pointed down the hall. “We’ll be down there. But when you’re done, wait right outside here. If we’re not done before you, we’ll come and find you here, so please don’t go anywhere.”
He was asking, not commanding, but she still sensed the earnestness of his tone. “I’ll be right here,” she replied, smiling.
“Good.” Returning her smile, he then turned to continue down the corridor.
James followed, but not before giving her backside a hearty squeeze. Gasping, she shot him a narrow-eyed look even as arousal skittered across her skin. “I’ll get you for that, James Kenrick,” she said quietly, so only he could hear her. “You mark my words.”
Leaning in and brushing the lightest of kisses on her cheek as he moved toward her ear, he whispered, “I was hoping you’d say that, Mistress.”
As he moved away, she saw the glint in his eyes, and the skittering arousal turned into a full-on rush right between her thighs.
God, an entire Friday night spent with James and Logan… The possibilities were endless.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Wow!” Fiona said, getting into the limousine, dropping her tote bag to the floor and allowing herself to flop onto the rear seat. “That was amazing.”
James and Logan had entered the vehicle behind her and were settled side by side on the left-hand seat. They were close, very close, and Fiona wondered just how horny they were after the evening’s activities, whether they were itching to get their hands on each other.
“Which part?” James asked, his luscious lips curving up in a sexy grin. “Would that be the part where you sucked Logan’s cock for an audience, where I licked your pussy for an audience, where you watched people being spanked, flogged, whipped and caned or where you saw a gagged, blindfolded, handcuffed man being fucked up the arse with a strap-on?”
“Um… Can I say all of it?” she said, enthused. “I’m just learning so much. Being able to watch people is great because I can get an idea whether I might like to try something without actually doing it—”
“You mean you wouldn’t want to fuck James up the arse with a strap-on?” Logan interrupted, his grin positively devilish.
“I-I never mentioned that specifically,” she stuttered in response, her cheeks heating up. “Why?” She turned her gaze to James. “Would you want me to?”
James still wore the sexy smile. “I wouldn’t say no.”
“Christ!” she said on a lengthy exhale. “I think I need a drink.”
“Of course,” Logan said, moving over to the mini-bar, collecting three glasses and filling them with chilled champagne. “You’ve earned it. Here you go.”
Taking the drink with thanks, Fiona relaxed back into the sumptuous leather seating and supped at the liquid. It was cool, crisp and delicious, and the bubbles soon set off a pleasant buzz within her. It was only her second alcoholic drink of the evening. Logan, in his usual bossy mode, had limited the three of them to a single alcoholic beverage while at the club—and she enjoyed it immensely, closing her eyes as a further mouthful trickled down her throat.
As she began to unwind, memories of what she’d seen and done in the past few hours flashed into her brain, shocking and arousing her all over again. Her eyes were well and truly being opened to the fetish and kink world. Just when she’d gotten to a point where she thought nothing could surprise her, something came along to prove her wrong. Essentially, the only limit wa
s a person’s imagination.
Her own imagination snagged onto Logan’s comment. Would she be interested in using a strap-on with James? She enjoyed topping him, yes, but could she go full-on Dominatrix and fuck his arse? It wasn’t like he wouldn’t be able to take it. God knows Logan had had that pleasure often enough. It’d just be a fake cock, wielded by her instead of Logan. And she was sure the two of them would teach her what to do, how to do it properly.
Still, with her eyes closed, she imagined herself in the position of the woman she’d seen earlier, pounding a big black dildo into her submissive’s upturned bottom. Both of them had clearly been getting off on their actions, big style, and Fiona had been rapt. But did that mean it’d get her off? Maybe there was only one way to find out…
“Fiona, are you all right?” James’ voice sliced through her filthy imaginings.
Opening her eyes, she met his gaze and nodded. “I’m fine, thank you. Just, um…decompressing, I suppose. Trying to process everything.”
“Fair enough. I think we probably all need to unwind and switch off a bit. How about going the very long way back to the hotel?”
“What’s that?”
“Dunno, really.” He shrugged, then smiled. “I’ll leave that up to the driver. We can see the sights of the city all lit up.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
Scooting up to the partition, James pressed the button to lower the screen and speak to the driver. She couldn’t hear what was they were saying, but soon, the partition was back in place and both men were looking at her expectantly. It was then she realized that Logan was patting the space they’d left between them on the seat. They wanted her to sit with them. Either that or it was because she’d get a better view of the aforementioned sights from there. Who cared? Sitting between two gorgeous blokes in a limousine, supping on expensive champagne wasn’t exactly a hardship, though the latter did seem to be going to her head rather quickly.
Moving over to take the place they’d created for her, she smiled at both of them in turn before settling back into the seat and waiting for the show to begin. She wasn’t entirely sure where they were at that moment, just in a maze of nondescript back streets and one-way systems. As they made their way through the dim city roads, she finished off her drink and accepted a top-up from Logan. The three of them sat in a companionable silence, and Fiona suspected that they, too, appreciated the opportunity to wind down after an intense evening at the club.
Before long, a familiar sight came into view. Ah, Oxford Street. Since she’d been making more of an effort to explore London during her spare time, she was getting a real handle on the city’s layout and improving her sense of direction. Now she knew where they were, she was sure she’d be able to figure out where they were going, and probably even what they’d see on the way.
Or she could just sit back, relax and enjoy herself. That was the whole point, surely?
Yes… Enjoy herself. She could do that. Letting out a happy sigh, she watched the designer and large high street retailers whizz by in a blur, to be replaced by Marble Arch, then impressive buildings and even more impressive hotels. Though, she thought with a sense of pride, not as impressive as the Totally Five Star. She’d definitely lucked out there.
Hyde Park Corner and Apsley House soon appeared, and a left turn along Constitution Hill provided a view of the side walls of Buckingham Palace, mostly screened by trees, until the space opened out and they could see the building itself. They continued to get a good look at the royal residence as they looped around the memorial to Queen Victoria and headed back up Buckingham Palace Road.
What followed was a tourist’s dream journey—like being on one of the tour buses, but much more comfortable, and with champagne. The Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey, then across the river to the London Eye and the South Bank. Tower Bridge and the Tower of London with their strategically placed lighting were particularly awe-inspiring, drawing gasps and murmurs of appreciation from all three of them. Back across the river, still with excellent views of the Tower, then a column that was a monument to the Great Fire of London in 1666, followed by St. Paul’s Cathedral. Eventually they glided past Trafalgar Square, up toward St. James’s Palace—which Fiona felt was massively underrated due to its more famous neighbor—and back into Mayfair.
As the exclusive shops gave way to stately buildings and the hotel grew ever closer, Fiona realized she’d downed the second glass of bubbles without even being aware of it. Oops. Oh well, no harm done.
Only when they pulled up to the side door of the hotel and Fiona attempted to get out of the vehicle did she come to the conclusion that, actually, that wasn’t the case. Almost as soon as she’d gotten off the seat and reached for her bag, the world began tilting uncomfortably, then spinning. Shit!
She was vaguely aware of being gently pulled back into the car and settled onto the rear seat, then of whispered, hasty conversation.
“What the hell—?”
“Get her back to her room—”
“If someone sees her with us—”
“Make sure she’s okay—”
“Not eaten properly—”
“What if she’s sick?”
Fiona opened her mouth at that last, planning to let them know that she wasn’t going to be sick. She wasn’t that bad. Just a bit tipsy, that was all. And tired. So incredibly tired all of a sudden…
God, if she didn’t trust the two of them implicitly, she’d wonder if she’d been drugged. But then one of their snatched comments came back to her whirling brain. She hadn’t eaten properly. She’d been later finishing work than planned, and to ensure that she was ready on time, she’d had to rush back to her room straight away and jump into the shower. The only thing she’d eaten since lunchtime was a bag of crisps she’d found in her cupboard, which she’d munched on before putting the finishing touches to her makeup, packing her bag and heading out to meet James and Logan.
That’d be it, then. Not only had she drunk on a practically empty stomach, she’d drunk what was probably some of the finest champagne available. And now she was going to be carted back to her room and miss out on what would no doubt be some totally mind-blowing sex with James and Logan.
As she barely hung on to consciousness, she was aware of the vehicle moving again. “Whatareyoudoing?”
“Shh,” a voice said from close by, and a hand stroked her hair. “You’ll be all right, sweetheart. We’re going to look after you.” She thought it was probably James, though she couldn’t be sure. “I’m going to take your hair out of the pigtails, honey, so when we carry you in it’ll help cover your face. We don’t want your colleagues seeing you, do we? Especially not in this state. All right?”
“’Spose.”
Gentle hands carefully pulled at the ties securing her hair, then raked through the strands. It felt nice, so relaxing that she teetered on the brink of unconsciousness once more.
“Hey,” James said softly, patting her cheek. “Stay with us, Fiona. Let us just get you up to our room and get some food and water into your system, and probably some painkillers, then you can sleep all you want, okay?”
“’Kay.”
The car drew to a stop once more, and she grumbled as she was helped out of the vehicle, then quickly lifted into strong arms. Her head was tucked into a broad chest, and strands of hair tickled her skin. Somehow, she held on to just enough common sense to resist the temptation to brush her hair away from her face. What had James said? Yeah, that was it—didn’t want her colleagues seeing her, especially not in this state.
A giggle escaped, surprising her. The surprise set off more giggles, and she tittered away, her face still pushed into the chest of either James or Logan—she had no idea which—as she was carried up the steps of the hotel and into the lobby.
Through the sudden buzzing in her ears, she heard a wry voice. Logan. “She’s all right. Just had too much to drink, that’s all. My sister.” The arms squeezed her, as though in warning not to open her
mouth and expose his blatant lie. “We’re going to get her upstairs and get some food and water in her. That’ll teach her to drink on an empty stomach.”
Hey! How did he…?
“Fuckingknoweverythingsmartarse,” she grumbled. Who the hell had he been talking to, anyway? One of the door staff, probably.
Chuckling, Logan continued his journey, and she sensed the movement of the elevator as they were carried up to James and Logan’s floor, then, after what felt like the longest ever walk down a corridor, came the unmistakable swish and click of the key card in the lock.
Finally, a muttered “Thank fuck for that,” followed by the whomp of the closing door and, a few steps later, she was lowered onto a bed.
Ahh… Now I can sleep. Fiona let her eyelids flutter down, sealing off the outside world.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Ah-ah, no you don’t!”
Through the thick fog of her mind, Fiona felt herself being gently pulled upright, and pillows were piled up behind her back.
“Fiona?” James said. “Are you still with us, sweetheart? Can you try to stay awake, just a little bit longer?”
“Don’t wanna.”
“I’m sure you don’t, but we’d really like you to. We want to get you into some more comfortable clothes, get some painkillers into you, plenty of water and some food.”
“Wanna sleep.”
“You can sleep, just as soon as we’ve done all that.”
“Humph.” She folded her arms, her eyelids fluttering again.
“James,” Logan said, striding over. “I think we should just get on with it. You can see how desperately she wants to fall asleep. I just placed an order with room service for some nice unhealthy food, which should arrive soon. So, in the meantime, let’s get her into some pajamas and a dressing gown. Maybe a black coffee to keep her awake long enough to eat, then plenty of water.”
“Yeah, all right. I’ll go and make the coffee, first. You want one?”
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