“That’s my girl, relax. Let me in.” Cyrus panted the words into her sweat-soaked neck, and then, at long last, he was in. Lily whimpered at the incredible fullness as she was so full of cock, she could barely breathe, and then Cyrus withdrew almost all the way out and then pushed back in again.
Lily screamed and shook her head, the sensations almost too much to process. Sloan kissed her and then he, too, moved, pitching her headfirst into another orgasm.
“God, no, I can’t … too much… oh god… not again.”
Lily didn’t know what came out of her mouth as the two men coordinated their movements and set up a thrust and retreat rhythm that set Lily alight from the inside out. Her body wound tighter and tighter, every stroke increasing her pleasure until the world went dark. The most incredible orgasm yet ripped through her body, the force of which threatened to split her in half as her men thrust harder, deeper seeking their own release, until she could no nothing but hang on. Sandwiched between them, she was helpless to do anything other than feel, as hands touched her everywhere.
“You’re ours now, always. I love you so much.”
“That’s right, we love you. Let go, we’ve got you, sweet girl.”
In her befuddled brain, she couldn’t determine which one of her men had said that, or maybe they had said it together, but it was all she needed to truly let go and just feel. Deeper and deeper she fell into this world of pain and pleasure that caused her to scream until she was hoarse and tears fell down her cheeks. Tears of happiness and bliss, as her body shook in the aftermath of her orgasm, the trembles not wanting to seem to stop even after both men had grunted their own releases and had withdrawn from her body. Lily fell into an exhausted sleep, only to be woken up time and time again by one or the other of her men making sweet tender love to her. And it was love that made her whisper her love for them over and over, until they all finally just collapsed into a deep sleep as the first rays of the morning sun bathed the bedroom in an orange glow. One of her men got up to draw the curtains shut and that was the last thing Lily remembered until she woke up with a start alone in the big bed.
Deliciously sore and bone-weary, she hugged the pillows to herself and inhaled deeply. They held the scent of both her men and she couldn’t help the sheer giggle of happiness that escaped her. Her men. They truly were hers and she was the luckiest woman alive, even if she might end up walking with a permanent waddle. Lily winced as she slid her feet out of bed and padded across to the bathroom. The heated rumble of several men’s voices carried up the stairs and a lump of dread settled in her stomach and threatened to chase away her happiness. She recognized the voices as those of her men and was that O’Hara? His broad Irish lilt was very distinctive. Goose bumps broke out all over her skin, and she hugged her arms to herself. They’d never had talked about the issue of the asshole master last night, but she knew she couldn’t avoid that subject any longer. Lily used the loo, and then washed her hands and brushed her teeth. She stared at her wide-eyed, pale-faced reflection, and she stiffened her shoulders. Time to face this. It was the last hurdle that remained, the last thing that could cause a rift between her and her men, and she point-blank refused to give that asshole any more power. Cyrus was right. He needed to be stopped, and she was the woman to do that. Just as soon as she’d had a soak and got dressed. It wouldn’t do to face O’Hara like this.
Half an hour later, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and with her hair pulled back into a pony tail, make up and thus battle armor in place, Lily made her way down the stairs and pushed the kitchen door open. She could do this.
Chapter Sixteen
“If we can’t act tonight, because you two can’t convince your sub to play ball, then—”
Cyrus slammed his mug of coffee on the table and growled. That was the only word for it, as Sloan watched his brother fist his fingers as though to punch the plainclothes cop, and James O’ Hara put his hands up to placate the other man.
“Cy, James is not the enemy here.” Sloan put his own mug down and eyed the rum in the cabinet with a certain amount of longing. As much as he could do with the hit of some alcohol in his system this morning, he needed a clear head for this discussion. He reached over to touch his brother’s shoulder instead in an effort to placate him, but Cyrus shrugged him off,
“He is when he wants us to force Lily to do something that she can’t cope with.” Cyrus glared at Sloan, and O’ Hara shook his head.
“Did I say anything about forcing her? Fuck man, if either of you were the sort of Doms to force a submissive I’d have you both up on assault charges faster than you can say ‘blow job.’ Stop going all uber-possessive and listen to what I have to say.” O’Hara rocked back on the legs of his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, one eyebrow raised, and stared Cyrus down.
After what seemed like an eternity, Cyrus’s tense stature relaxed a smidgen, and Sloan blew out a huff of relief. He didn’t feel like coming between his brother and the burly cop. Quite apart from the fact that assaulting a police offer was a criminal offense, he liked O’Hara. The man was a regular attender at the club, and an experienced Dom. He was also going over and above the call of duty to nail Lily’s asshole master, and had done his utmost to keep their girl out of it so far.
“I don’t have to spell the consequences out to you guys.” O’Hara spoke again and shuffled through the papers and pictures spread over the kitchen table. Unmasked, the man they believed to be the asshole master looked like just an ordinary guy. In his early fifties, he had close cropped grey hair, a long, thin face and a slash of a mouth, set over a prominent chin, and a nose that was slightly too large for his face. Clean-shaven, softly spoken, immaculately attired, he gave the image of perfect propriety. It was only the cruel expression in one shot as he stared into the camera that gave a possible hint to his true personality. The hair on Sloan’s neck stood to attention at the thought of that man’s hands on Lily. He shook the disturbing images away and concentrated on what O’Hara was saying.
“He’s spooked and possibly dangerous. I don’t think it’s a co-incidence that he came looking for Lily once she hooked up with you guys. While she was just doing her thing and staying away from the lifestyle, she was no threat. Now, well…”
The door pushed open, admitting a determined, if fragile-looking, Lily, and O’Hara fell silent and smiled at her briefly, before turning the pictures face down on the table. Nonetheless, Lily’s steps faltered, and she went pale under the make-up she had chosen to wear today. An unusual addition for when they were at home. Then again, she was expecting to work at the diner today. Sloan hadn’t had a chance to tell her that neither one of them was going in today. Martha had agreed to open up and shut down, and with the extra two waitresses he’d employed last week, they were covered.
Not that he gave a hoot about the diner right now. He’d close the damn place if he had to. Lily’s safety was far more important than the loss of a day’s takings. O’Hara didn’t have to spell it out for them. Lily was in danger.
He held out his arms and Lily scooted into his embrace. Sloan closed his eyes, rested his head on her hair, and inhaled the sweet floral flavor of the shampoo she used. If only he could keep her wrapped up in his arms forever, but she was far too independent to let him, for starters. Lily took a deep breath, pushed against his chest and he reluctantly let her go, but not before he claimed a kiss that made her breathing hitch. Cyrus stepped up and he, too, pulled her into a fierce hug and kissed her. By the time his brother released her, Lily looked flushed and a little bit rattled in the good way. Sloan passed her a fresh mug of coffee and she murmured a quick thanks, wrapped her hands around the mug, and inhaled deeply before she took a cautious sip of the fragrant brew.
O’Hara cleared his throat and continued talking.
“Like I was saying, this guy hasn’t evaded capture for so long by being dumb. Lily here might well be the only person to identify him, and I want this guy off the streets. We think, though we can’t be sure, tha
t he has another young girl locked up in the basement of his town house, and—”
Lily’s audible gasp stopped the man again and he ran his hand over his face, as though he was tired. Cyrus swore and stepped back up to Lily, but she shook her head at him and sat down at the kitchen table instead. Putting her mug down, she picked up one of the pictures and looked at it for the longest time. A lone tear slipped out of her eyes and made a zigzag path down her cheek, and Sloan’s heart broke a little.
“You don’t have to do this, pet. Not now,” Sloan said and Cyrus nodded his agreement, while O’Hara frowned. He reached across to put one large hand on Lily’s wrist and she jumped and pulled her hand away, not once taking her eyes off the picture of the asshole master.
“I’m sorry, I understand this is difficult for you,” O’Hara said and Lily put the picture down slowly. She frowned as a tear drop fell on the table and then wiped the tears off her face with an angry swipe of her hand.
“Is this him?” she asked, and Cyrus and Sloan pulled up a chair either side of her. She glanced at them both and took a deep breath, when they both put a hand each on her shoulders in a silent show of support.
“We believe so,” O’Hara said. “You don’t recognize him?”
Lily pursed her lips and took a closer look at the picture.
“Maybe, he always wore a mask once I was with him, and it’s been a long time since I saw his face. I’ve done my best to forget it, but the eyes are right.” A shudder went through her and Cyrus swore under his breath and ran his hand up to the base of her neck.
“It’s okay, Sir. I want to do this,” Lily said, and pride filled Sloan at her courage.
“If you’re sure, sweet thing.” Cyrus grumbled his reply, and Sloan wasn’t surprised to hear the barely concealed emotion in his brother’s voice. He felt just the same and squeezed her shoulder, earning himself a watery smile from his girl, and a mouthed I love you.
“Ditto, babe,” he said, and she turned her attention back to the picture.
“It could be him. He’s older than the man who found me in that park. And he’s lost weight, or maybe he just seemed bigger back then. If I heard his voice, I’d know if it’s him.”
O’Hara smiled and nodded.
“I’m counting on that. He will be at the club tonight, and we need you to be there to identify him. Don’t worry, you will be watched by several of my men as well as your Doms. I’ll make this as safe as I can for you, little one.”
Sloan raised his eyebrows at the address the other men usually reserved for a sub he was in a play scene with, and Cyrus, too, glared at him with a mutinous she’s ours so back the fuck off expression, but the words seemed to help Lily. She relaxed back in her chair and glanced at him briefly.
“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate that.”
O’Hara smiled and proceeded to show her the rest of the pictures. Lily confirmed that the house looked like the one she was held in, but she couldn’t confirm the location. A picture of the mask he usually wore while at the club had her rear back in horror, and eventually a plan was formed. By the time O’Hara made his excuses, Lily looked worn out, and by mutual agreement Sloan and Cyrus ordered her back to bed. They spent the afternoon watching sci-fi movies with their girl sandwiched between them on their big bed, and eating copious amount of junk food between them, until the inevitable time came to get ready.
* * * *
Lily swallowed past the lump of fear and bile lodged in her throat as the doors of the club shut behind her. At her request, her men had blindfolded her. She didn’t want to see what was going on, too frightened that something she might see in that club setting would set off a panic attack. As it was, the smells and sounds of the main play area made her want to heave. Over the heavy bass of the music, implements hit flesh. Grunts of pain and moans of pleasure rung in her ears and she concentrated on just putting one foot in front of the other.
Her heavy play collar signaled her belonging to her Sirs, and the steady pull on her leash further grounded her. Cyrus held her leash in his hand, and both men flanked her either side, one hand on each of her elbows while Sloan’s deep murmur in her ear guided her steps.
If her heart beat any faster it would try and drum through her chest bone, and soon even the sounds of the club were lost to her, unable to hear over the roaring in her ears. Only Sloan’s voice penetrated, as he called her his brave girl, and eventually her bare thighs made contact with a leather surface as both men’s hand shifted to her shoulders and urged her down onto what felt like bean bag.
Lily let herself sink into its embrace, and the pressure on her leash increased.
“That’s our girl. I’ve tethered you to the floor. Cyrus and I are right here. You’re in a corner of the club clearly visible. He’s not checked in yet, so relax, pet. He has booked a private room, so we expect him to turn up shortly, unless that’s a ruse and we’ll be back to square one.”
A whimper escaped Lily at that thought and then Sloan’s warm lips covered hers. The tender kiss calmed her further and slowly the sounds of the club invaded her consciousness again. A woman’s laughter, someone greeting Cyrus and footsteps leading away, someone else approaching Sloan and his monosyllabic replies as he fobbed the other man off.
“Not interested, mate, move on.”
“Sure, can’t blame a man for trying. She’s hot.”
“Asshole.” Sloan’s murmured curse made Lily smile, and she leant closer into the warm, solid presence of his thigh as she wrapped her hands around it. His hand patted her head and she could almost pretend they weren’t here, until she heard him.
Lily froze, especially when Sloan rose abruptly and then the music stopped. Everyone shouted and before she knew it rough hands grabbed her from behind. Lily opened her mouth to scream, but a foul-smelling gag was forced between her lips, and then the asshole was there.
“What a slut you are, parading in here with those two. Did you really think you’d get away with that?” The yank to her hair really hurt, as though he’d ripped a chunk of it out as he forced her to her feet.
No, no, no. She wasn’t that girl anymore. She wouldn’t let him get away with this. He had no damn right. Fury replaced Lily’s earlier fear, and she managed to spit the gag out. Balling her hands into fists, and not caring about the pain in her scalp, she swung them back wildly.
His grunt of pain in her ear brought a moment of elation, before the asshole’s fingers dug into her chin, and his hot breath blew in her face. With his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air supply, he lifted her off her feet with an arm ‘round her waist. Lily bit down on the fingers invading her mouth, and he dropped her to the floor. White hot pain took her breath away, as her shin made contact with something hard, and she whimpered at the agony in her ribs. The bastard must have kicked her.
“You bitch will pay for that. How fucking dare you bite me.”
He yanked her back to her feet, and Lily could just about make out his eyes as the backup generators kicked in slowly and some lights came back on. The cold, evil stare that connected with her once had the power to bring her to her knees. Now, however, it just made her want to lash out at him and scream. Where were her men and why were the lights out? None of this made sense, but if she could keep him here, then surely someone would come to her rescue, confusion or not?
“Let. Me. Go.” She spat the words at him, and those cruel eyes narrowed and the asshole laughed. It was a sound to chill her bones.
“Never, slut, you’re mine.”
“I’ll never be yours. I never was. Help… Sl—”
He stuffed that god-awful gag back in her mouth, silencing her while dragging her away.
From far away, Lily heard Cyrus and Sloan call her name, and she kicked and struggled but it was useless. He blocked her every move, clearly ready for her putting up a fight this time. A punch to her face made her head spin and there was a sharp scratch to her neck. Terror raced through her, as she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and then there
was nothing but blissful darkness.
* * * *
Cyrus paced the narrow confines of the hospital corridor like a mad man. What was taking those quacks so damn long?
“I don’t know how you can just stand there calm as fuck as though this was a stroll in the fucking park, bro.” He glared at Sloan’s back and his brother sighed and turned round from the window to look at him.
“Wearing a groove into the floor is not going to help, Cy. She’ll be okay. You’ve heard the docs. They established what that asshole injected her with, and have given her an antidote. She just needs to sleep it off, and there shouldn’t be any lasting side effects. Let them do their job. We’d only get in the way.”
Cyrus punched the wall with a growl and the approaching nurse threw him a worried look and then hurried past him.
“And stop punching things, unless you want us to get thrown out. I, for one, want to be the first thing she sees when she does wake up.”
Cyrus swore and rested his fore head against the cool wall. Damn his brother and the fact that he was right.
“I can’t lose her, Sloan. That was too damn fucking close.”
Sloan punched him in the shoulder and sighed.
“I know, Cy, but it’s over. Trust me, when the generator kicked in properly and I saw she wasn’t there anymore, my heart near damn stopped.”
Cyrus nodded his agreement.
“Cunning bastard. Thank God O’Hara had all the exits covered. We owe that man a big stiff drink.”
Sloan’s short humorless laugh echoed around the corridor.
“At the very least. Though I want to slug him, too. He knew the bastard uses drugs. Why did it not occur to anyone of us that he would do that? Jeez, we’re lucky he got the slow-acting poison. She’d be—”
Let's Get It On (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 16