The Death of You

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The Death of You Page 10

by Allyson Young


  Connor sat her up. “Hold your hair.” When she complied, he began to lather her back, and the crisp soapy scent that smelled slightly different on both Doms filled the air. Did they share everything? Were they together sexually? She doubted it, although it would be damn hot. She had no quarrel with consensual couplings of any sort, but the idea of watching two guys together had never been her thing. Until now.

  His hands slipped beneath her armpits to slide over her breasts, washing them gently, cupping the soft mounds. He spoke against the side of her head. “We were trying to convey a message to a certain little sub, Maddy.”

  “Oh.” Lord, she was usually so much better at conversation than these one-liners. In fact, she tended to babble, being alone so much. “But, what about Julie?”

  “Rafe made a commitment to her. And we honor our commitments. When it was over, we didn’t go back.”

  “Good thing.”

  “Pardon?” Connor’s hands slipped lower, gliding over her belly to her hips. Maddy sucked her stomach in and he chuckled. “You worry too much, honey. You’re just the way we want you, although we’ll start you on some exercise soon. Something to stretch and limber you up. Ménage is a demanding experience.”

  He was carrying on again as though she was here to stay. The sooner they had that conversation, the better. She really didn’t want to have to reschedule her appointment with the real estate agent. You really don’t want to keep it.

  As he nudged her thighs apart, Maddy thought to protest. “I can do it.”

  “There’ll be lots of times for you to take care of yourself, honey. But right now you’ll allow me.” He parted her folds and gently cleansed her, and the slight soreness in her pussy was replaced with a different kind of ache. He then tipped her on her side like a bath toy, her head on his shoulder and her hip up against a very interested cock as Connor washed her bottom hole. She flinched but he persisted.

  “Part of the training, honey. You have to learn to relax more. You did change your limits.”

  “Jeez, Connor.” She didn’t remind him she was on suspension from the club thanks to him, and that she wasn’t going to be around for anal activity. The press and intrusion of a digit created some very interesting sensations there, and she felt hedonistic enough to experience it. But only a little, so she tried to develop a conversation.

  “Aren’t I supposed to be serving you?”

  “We aren’t looking for a slave, Maddy. And you served us well already.”

  It was altogether confusing, but then every BDSM relationship was different. Communication would sort things out, like the rules…and she was falling right into the tempting trap of permanence. With an effort, she pushed those hopeful thoughts aside and focused on the sexual side of things, along with the finger stretching her bottom hole.

  “Uh, can I ask you something?” She sucked in air as certain nerve endings flared.

  “Anything, honey.”

  “Are you and Rafe…I mean, do you…”

  He laughed. “Are we fuck buddies? What? Do we give off that vibe?”

  They didn’t. “No.”

  “We’re like brothers. We don’t have sex together unless we have a sub between us.”

  Well, she’d asked for it. A nasty shaft of what could only be jealousy stabbed through her and she winced. Connor of course noticed and drew the correct inference.

  “You’re the only sub we want between us from here on in, honey. Believe it and capitalize on our experience. We can’t hold the past against one another.”

  Hah. His and Rafe’s past experience could probably be written up for posterity, maybe taught in some sex ed for adults course someplace. Maddy’s sexual experience had been hurried affairs, while Abbott’s attention was elsewhere, and when she was a teenager. The boys at school copped a feel under the pretense of a kiss, and she’d learned about hand jobs in the hallway near the janitor’s room with the captain of the debate team of all things. One of Abbott’s top men had stolen some moments with her, a handsome, charming guy who clearly throve on danger, because her owner would have killed him if he’d found out. Slowly. Still, Richard had begun to show her what her body was capable of, while teaching her what a man liked, before it got too risky. She regretted losing her virginity to him, now, because she sensed it could have been so much better. But she thought she’d been in love, soon recognizing the desperation of her situation had fostered that belief. Then Richard had been replaced by Ryker, and she didn’t care to speculate on the manner of his replacement.

  The club—and the porn she viewed—had only firmed up some of her knowledge. So Rafe and Connor had it over her in spades. Not that she wouldn’t be a willing pupil if only she could stay. Which she couldn’t. Case closed.

  As if he felt her withdrawal, he ceased his pleasurable torment of her anus. “That’s a start. Good girl. Now switch around so I can do your feet.” He maneuvered her through the water until she was tucked up against the far end of the tub, admiring his handsome face and broad shoulders while wondering why it was so nice to be his good girl. The tub could qualify as a pool, clearly built with three people in mind. Or more. Maddy blinked at the thought. She liked watching, and she’d been okay with being watched at Vantage, but she wasn’t sure about sharing or being shared with anyone other than them—and she was at it again. Thinking about spending more time with them. Damn. She focused on being cared for instead.

  Connor proceeded to wash her toes and the soles of both feet, working his way up her ankles. He rested each foot on a muscled thigh, massaging the arch until she moaned with the joy of it. Rafe could work on her back and Connor could do her feet. If either of them did a full scalp massage, she was a goner.

  “Tell me what you were implying about Julie.”

  She hesitated only for a second, her loyalties with these men. “Her reasons for wanting Rafe aren’t the nicest. She’s racist.”

  Connor stared at her before nodding once. “He figured. Not that it’ll be an issue.”

  Well, she’d said it, and didn’t really want to talk about racism being alive and well at Club Vantage, although Julie was the only one Maddy had picked up on. Rafe could avoid her if he liked when he returned to the club. There were plenty of other subs available. Maddy was going to cherish the memory of her time with these Masters and never consider those other subs in her next life.

  Her hair had fallen from her grip during the bathing, and the ends drifted along the surface of the water. Connor reached out and gathered a bunch of strands, using them to rein her in against him.

  “You’re actually blonde,” he commented, running a finger down her part.

  “I colored it as a disguise.”

  He lifted one broad shoulder. “Your choice, honey. But you can go back to blonde if you want.”

  “Um. Maybe.”

  He stared into her eyes, then nodded. “We’ll shower off, wash your hair. Then we’ll have something to eat and talk.”

  Talking was good. Maddy nodded and scrambled to stand up, Connor rising alongside her like some kind of god of the ocean. Water ran off his solid body in rivulets, droplets beading in the trimmed hair at his groin, dripping down the head of his fat cock. It grew a little more beneath her interested stare and Connor laughed.

  “While I’d like nothing better than to feel your sweet mouth around my dick, Maddy, we’ll end up in bed with nothing else getting done. C’mon. Shower.”

  She hadn’t thought they needed a bed, particularly. She wanted to taste him too, give him what she gave Rafe, before she moved on. Not exactly like leveling the playing field, although she wanted to be fair, but for the memory. It occurred to her she hadn’t gotten hers after sucking off Rafe, and how it hadn’t mattered. Pleasing him had been enough. She sighed and went with Connor to shower. And swooned through a hair washing. She was so definitely a goner—if she wasn’t planning to get gone.

  ****

  The tantalizing scent of roasting meat wafted up the stairs as Maddy made her way towa
rd the source, wrapped up in a robe that belonged to Connor. Despite turning the sleeves up a dozen times, they flirted with her fingertips in a thick clump, and the belt was wrapped around her middle three times in an attempt to contain the wad of fabric doubled up to hang over it so she could walk without tripping. She felt like a marshmallow and couldn’t contain her pout. Connor had refused to allow her access to her own clothes, and the ones they’d stripped her out of in the kitchen were conveniently missing. She knew it was so she couldn’t get to her laptop and purse. This trust thing wasn’t going both ways, although they had her number. Still, she was annoyed.

  “Careful, honey. Watch your step.”

  She wasn’t speaking to him. He’d plucked her from the shower, right when she was nearly prostrate from his tender care, and wrapped her up in a huge, soft towel, fresh off a warming bar. It was another example of the high-end finishes in the big house and she wondered how two ex-military types obtained such means. It made her a little uneasy, considering she well knew there were both legal and not so legal ways of making a lot of money. But she hadn’t inquired, because Connor again showed his interest in her bottom hole, laying her over his lap, then tugging the towel up to give him access.

  It had been a mildly embarrassing experience, although he’d merely applied some kind of warm gel and offered up a little incentive to accept his care. The expert way he’d sought her clit, a thick finger sliding through her folds to circle the small knot of nerve endings, rubbing and circling as he held her steady with his other hand around her waist, took her up without pause. Maddy could admit to burgeoning arousal as he had bared her nether regions, offering up her ass for inspection, spreading her legs at his urging. The picture her brain painted of that particular visual Connor was treated to added to the quick climax. She’d been putty in his hands—until the clash of wills over wanting her stuff. How was she going to convince them about letting her go when he wouldn’t even give her latitude over her stuff? Asked and answered.

  She muttered under her breath and concentrated on not falling ass over tea kettle down the curving staircase. Her hair was still wet, and it would end up a mass of snarls because Connor hadn’t let her find her detangling comb. She knew she was acting like a little kid, but it was easier than thinking about the utter determination these men were exhibiting. If something bad happened to them because of her, she’d never forgive herself.

  “You look…plush.” Rafe didn’t bother to hide his laughter, standing at the foot of the stairs in just an ancient, beautifully worn pair of jeans, wearing them in that way only men totally secure in their hotness could pull off. Maddy missed her footing on the second to last step and fell—right into Rafe’s strong, manly arms. Of course she did, and of course he caught her like the hero in a HEA romance. His chiseled chest muffled her shriek as well as the breath she expelled, knocked out of her by the contact of their bodies.

  When she could pull oxygen into her lungs, she spoke with as much dignity as she could muster. “Put me down. Please.”

  Rafe set her on her feet, patting her ass as he did so. He regarded her speculatively and she quailed, already recognizing that look. “How’s your bottom, Maddy?”

  Her cheeks heated and she sniffed. “Fine, thank you for asking.”

  “No need to be so formal, sweetheart. Connor and I like anal a lot, and DP is one of our specialties.”

  Tact obviously wasn’t. There was really no need to rub her face in the fact they fucked women together. Without looking in Connor’s direction, she shrugged. “Whatever.”

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed and she sensed she’d pushed him as far as she cared to push. He grabbed the lapels of the robe and yanked her against him, peeling the fabric apart and over her shoulders and down her arms, much like she’d been divested of her shirt before. Her nipples pebbled, and not merely from being exposed to the cooler air. He worked the rest of the fabric loose with an impatient tug on the tie, and she stood in a knee-high pool of white terrycloth.

  “Rafe!” Her protest went unheeded as he spun her around.

  “Bend and grab your ankles.”

  “I can’t.” She wasn’t that tall, but her legs were the longest part of her and she never could do that toe touch thing. Besides, she wasn’t in the club and he had no right to inspect her.

  “Do your best.” His tone was dark and uncompromising. Maddy bit her lip and complied. Rafe was giving her a clear message, forging ahead and implying she was theirs to command, and darned if she didn’t want to obey. She was so weak.

  The placement of his hand on her right butt cheek made her grip her calves harder, and she squinched her eyes tight when he pulled the flesh aside. A second later he pressed a kiss on the cleft and released her. “Nice. You’ll be feeling a bit warm. Good choice of lube, Con. Okay, sweetheart. Up you come.”

  She popped upright, Rafe steadying her while Connor watched, a smile lurking on his firm lips. They were clearly partners, aware of the other’s thoughts and opinions, desires and actions, and she was at a clear disadvantage. As she stooped to grab the robe, Connor forestalled her.

  “You won’t need that, Maddy. C’mon. I’m sure dinner is ready.”

  “But—”

  He urged her forward in Rafe’s wake, no support there. “We turned up the heat, honey. You’ll be fine.”

  She felt at a total disadvantage, although maybe that wasn’t quite true. The pants Connor had donned were drawn tight across the front, outlining a clear bulge. She knew he hadn’t been unaffected when he’d had her facedown over his lap earlier, his cock stiff and weeping. He’d stuck to his edict that they needed to talk rather than fuck, however. And Rafe moved a little stiffly, a sign she’d come to recognize as somebody afflicted with a pesky hard-on. Maddy squared her shoulders and went with her nakedness, but she chose not to speak and tugged her elbow free from Connor’s hand.

  The kitchen looked the same, although the counter was now empty and shining, and she gathered up her tattered composure. Connor herded her to the same stool she’d sat on before, but before she could clamber up, he dropped a towel on the seat. Grateful for the gesture, although she didn’t acknowledge it, Maddy took her place, sitting primly with her toes tucked behind the rung, knees together, her hands clasped in her lap. If either one of them instructed her to take any submissive display pose she was going to lose it and scream her safe word to the rafters. She had no business encouraging their handling of her person and wished it hadn’t turned her on. What they’d shared had been wonderful, and there was that additional something…like they were such a part of her. But she had to go.

  Rafe set a plate in front of her, holding a perfectly grilled hunk of meat resplendent in its juices beside a loaded baked potato. A small bowl held a salad topped with croutons and a sprinkle of feta. Maddy’s mouth watered and her stomach growled on cue. Connor made a suspicious choking sound she knew was a stifled laugh, but she continued to ignore him. “Thank you.”

  “I heard this was your favorite. What would you like to drink?”

  “Water’s fine.”

  He poured a glass from a pitcher he retrieved from the fridge and put it beside her plate before setting servings for himself and Connor. He’d doubled the protein and she found herself speculating on how fit they both were. Probably watched what they ate and worked out. Duh. She picked up her utensils after spreading a napkin over her thighs. She fell to, and nearly moaned at how good everything tasted.

  As she munched on the last mouthful of medium rare beef, Rafe spoke to Connor. “I looked through your recent research. Seems like somebody is really determined to find our Maddy.”

  The food turned to sawdust in her mouth and she choked it down rather than spit it out. After a swallow of water she clenched her fists beneath the countertop and voiced her terror. “Why are you still poking around? I told you my story. Why are you still pushing it? I thought we were going to discuss my leaving, not you meddling!”

  “You can’t keep running, Maddy.” Connor w
as the voice of reason, but her teeth were chattering.

  “That would be my choice.”

  “Honey—”

  “No. I told you. He’s not somebody you mess with, and he’s got a guy who will put you in the ground without a second thought. And make it hurt. He likes to make it hurt.”

  She shoved away from the island and nearly fell from the stool, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface. Connor caught her and swept her up—enough of being carried like booty—settling her on his knee. Rafe hustled from the room and returned with the cursed robe, dropping it around her shoulders. She huddled into its depths.

  “Maddy, we’re not leaving you to face this on your own. It’s clear you believe whoever it is will catch up with you eventually, and it’s no life for you. Hiding out, no friends, no…” Rafe trailed off, not as adept with words as Connor, but no less compelling. If she allowed herself to be compelled.

  “And if he comes here?”

  “Then we’ll deal with him.”

  Wow. Connor just held her, his body a strong refuge at her back as Rafe looked at her with calm certainty.

  “Who are you guys? What makes you think you can tangle with Abbott and guys like Ryker and win? And how come you can afford all of…this? And how come you’re not concerned about identify theft?” Had she jumped from the frying pan into the fire? Were they criminals too?

  “Maddy, sweetheart.” Connor cuddled her closer and rubbed his chin over her hair. It reminded her she was a disheveled mess and yet they still wanted her, planned to deal with Abbott—for her. She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm her heartbeat. Rafe ran two fingers down her face, from her temple to her jaw, and she leaned into it, closing her eyes.

  “Connor comes from money.”

  “Maddy doesn’t care about that, I’m sure, Rafe. She’s obviously not without her own financial resources,” Connor interjected, his features unreadable.

  Maddy knew there was a story there, but Connor projected a wall around him a mile high. And they’d apparently had a look through her purse, seen her cards and wallet. It was intrusive, and further reminded her they weren’t prepared to let her go without a fight.

 

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