The Death of You

by Allyson Young

  “I’ll leave you to it, then. I have some damage control with Ishmael. Although if the man had kept his mouth shut, Alice wouldn’t be caught up in this.”

  “Good luck with that.” Connor was all for open communication, being one who learned from his mistakes—when he tumbled to the fact he’d made one. The thing about their business, mistakes tended to be immediately apparent. Affairs of the heart? Not so much. He hustled after Rafe, who was already out the door.

  As they cleared the scene room area, screams increased, rather than diminished, and the sounds weren’t those of pleasure/pain. What the fuck?

  ****

  Maddy felt like a hostess at a high-end, albeit kinky, restaurant. Members arrived and she smiled in welcome, checked them in, and directed them to either the locker rooms or the rooms they’d booked for the evening. Her cheeks ached and her feet hurt, but she persevered and figured she’d done well, especially when some of the Doms had winked at her, and a few subs gave her the thumbs-up. Working the desk wasn’t really something that should garner such positive attention but she took it. Until Julie.

  The other submissive had pranced in with two other skinny minis, breezing past Maddy without a glance to head to the locker room. Julie had looked back over her shoulder to give Maddy a cold look, one she ignored. She had another hour to work, and it was going to take a maximum effort to get through it, especially when Master Thomas was bound to show up and demand an explanation.

  She straightened up the work area and sighed. It was a bittersweet ending to a misguided attempt to re-enter this world. Smoothing her little pink skirt over her thighs, she straightened the matching corset, the outfit a close match to the very first fet wear she’d ever purchased. It suited her, especially now that her hair was back to its natural color and she had a little color in her face from actually being outside during the day. It was altogether wonderful not to be in hiding anymore—not from Abbott or her emotions. Tomorrow would be a fresh start, and if her heart disagreed, too bad.

  “Bitch.”

  Whoa. Maddy snapped to and stared at Julie. The other woman was sluttily elegant in a black bustier and thong over thigh-high black fishnets. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re a lying bitch.” Each word was delivered with a poisonous curl of Julie’s perfectly shaped carmine lips.

  Maddy resisted the urge to look behind her in one of those comedic responses. Who, me?

  “You promised.”

  She was tired and the epiphanies, okay, the truths of the past little while were too much. This skinny twit was getting on her last nerve, and it wasn’t like she had anything to lose. “Julie, either speak in some way I can understand or fuck off.”

  A horrified gasp rent the air, and Julie set her hands on her hips, leaning forward in an extremely unattractive fashion. Her mouth was opening and closing like a beached fish.

  “You…you bitch.” The other woman’s vocabulary required a serious expansion.

  Regardless, Julie was drawing attention and Maddy figured it would make sense to take the confrontation elsewhere, like outside. She might not have anything to lose, but the other members deserved an enjoyable evening. She stepped around the counter, a big mistake as it turned out, because there was no longer a barrier between them. Maybe the other woman thought she was coming after her. Whatever, she showed some more of the nastiness Maddy knew was under that pretty exterior, and swung. Julie’s long, lacquered nails grazed her cheek, and she hissed at the sting.

  Grabbing Julie’s wrist as she tried another slap, Maddy wrestled against the surprisingly strong attempt to have her eyes clawed out. The woman screamed in rage and they tumbled to the floor, Maddy hanging on to Julie’s wrist for dear life and landing hard on her hip as a result.

  “What is wrong with you?” she yelled.

  “You said you weren’t interested! You said it!” The other woman was screeching loud enough to wake the dead.

  Grunting with effort, she rolled Julie up against the base of the counter and used her weight advantage to hold her in place. It was like stepping on an eel, not that she’d ever done that, but she’d seen it on television and it was exactly the same. Especially the eel part. When the other woman subsided, Maddy caught her breath.

  “Interested in what? What are you going on about?”

  “Like you don’t know. It’s all over the club. They’re talking about it in the locker room.” The woman’s voice was once again rising in decibels, and she punctuated her statement with another frustrated scream.

  “Julie. Tell me what.” She could feel the presence of others behind her and hear the shuffling of feet. Wonderful.

  “You’re going to scene.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Maddy pushed away from Julie and clambered to her feet. Julie cautiously got up and glowered, bright blotches of color high on both cheeks, and her eyes spitting fury.

  “You don’t deny it, then.”

  “I’m not scening. I haven’t had a chance to tell Master Thomas yet.”

  Julie stared over her shoulder but Maddy didn’t dare look, certain the club owner was bearing down, and also afraid Julie might sucker punch her if she quit watching her. Once again locking eyes with Maddy, the other woman sneered. “Liar. Like you’d give up the opportunity to scene with those Masters.”

  There wasn’t time to dwell on the inference of that statement, although Maddy understood it well enough—and the room spun crazily. They were here. Julie took her down in a credible tackle and Maddy’s breath whooshed out under the impact. The crazy woman got in a smack to her eye and a convincing hair pull before being yanked away by a big pair of hands. Maddy screwed her eyes shut and prayed to be transported elsewhere, anywhere, someplace to carry on with her life away from here.

  “Sweetheart?” Had Rafe’s voice always poured over the senses with the smoothness of dark chocolate? If memory served, and of course hers did, it had indeed. She refused to look at him.

  “Maddy? C’mon, honey. Did she hurt you? Fuck, Rafe, the bitch clawed her.” Connor’s voice was redolent of caramel.

  Wonderful. On her ass, her boobs falling out of her corset, hair probably a tangled mess, and, if the soreness manifesting in her cheek was any indication, probably a swollen eye. Maybe a black one. And claw marks. Lovely.

  Hands slipped over her limbs, over her corset. They’d be doing a strip search next and didn’t her pussy like that idea? Too bad they were in the freaking foyer and there were dozens of witnesses, although maybe she was an exhibitionist after all because her entire body woke up screaming for these men.

  But the voices and murmurs receded before the deep tones of Master Thomas urging them back to whatever they’d been doing. Seemed she was fated to put on a show at the door with Rafe and Connor. She willed her arousal back and cautiously peeked up at two worried, devastatingly handsome faces that broke into big smiles simultaneously. There was no sign of Julie, and Maddy was mean enough to hope something nasty was befalling the other woman.

  “Here, I’ll pick you up.” Rafe shifted to work his hands beneath her.

  “No. Please. Just help me stand, okay?” It was a bitch to get up wearing stilettos.

  They lifted her between them so effortlessly she gasped like Julie had, and promptly shut it down. No way was she imitating that twit. When she was steady on her heels, they stepped back a little and stared at her anxiously. Her Viking and her dark warrior. Rafe’s hair had grown long enough to fit in a ponytail holder, which he rocked, and he looked hellaciously hot but strained around his eyes. Connor still sported the same short hairdo, and there were new fine lines around his mouth. They weren’t okay and it broke her heart. She forgot she was mad at them, forgot about her confusion and how the bone-deep longing couldn’t totally be assuaged by the things she was accomplishing in her everyday life. Ridiculously fat tears welled and spilled and her bottom lip trembled despite her efforts to get it under control.

  “Sweetheart.”

  “Honey.”

  T
hey somehow gathered her up between them, their big bodies dwarfing her, forming a cocoon to shut out the rest of the world. They held her tightly and she wanted it to go on forever.

  “You really okay? Aside from what we can see? She didn’t land one to hurt you anyplace else?” Rafe sounded so worried.

  Her reply was muffled but it was okay. She didn’t want them to let go, and she couldn’t relinquish the fine material of their shirts clutched tightly in her hands. “I’m good.”

  “Come home with us?” Connor sounded worried too.

  She wiggled, and they loosened their grip enough so that she could look up at them. They hid nothing from her, so unlike the stoic visages they’d affected the day the cab had taken her away. “We didn’t talk that day.”

  “We know.” Rafe answered, surprising her, because Connor was the more verbose of the two. “But we’re gonna.”

  Connor repeated himself, only it wasn’t a question any more. “Come home with us.”

  She was weak. A totally spineless specimen, and she should be ashamed of herself. “Okay.”

  Epilogue

  Maddy welcomed the reprieve, her Doms taking such good care of her after torturing her with such great glee. Rafe gave her a sip of water, and Connor tenderly wiped the perspiration from her face, lifting her hair from the nape of her neck. She’d lost count of the times they’d edged her, bringing her up to the very brink, so close to tumbling over the precipice of a momentous climax, before denying her the release.

  It was her punishment for ignoring the message from her heart, allowing pride to carry her out their door that awful day, and it was something she’d never do again. They’d had the talk, with her tucked up on the couch, an ice pack on her face while Connor massaged her skull where Julie had pulled her hair. Rafe rubbed her sore feet and, despite the rawness of the discussion, it was far less painful that pretending she could live without them. And them without her.

  The trust Rafe had asked for that day in the shower was put to the test in the playroom, a ritual with lasting significance she’d happily carry forever. Then they waited days for her to heal before announcing her punishment, administering it with only a few hours of dreaded anticipation.

  “Stay with us, Maddy.” Rafe pinched a nipple, and she gave him her complete attention. The clamps had been everything Connor promised, and their removal tipped her so close to coming that for an instant she’d teetered on the razor edge of pain and pleasure before falling back, speaking rudely to her Doms.

  Rafe rewarded her obedience with a leisurely suckle of both those tormented buds and her head dropped back against Connor as she moaned. “Please.”

  “You think she’s atoned enough, Rafe?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I have. Promise.”

  There was some satisfaction in knowing they were as desperate as she. Their leathers bulged at the laces, and she’d caught Rafe rearranging himself, wincing as he did so. The cadence of Connor’s words changed, becoming precise and almost pedantic, proof he was struggling with his own arousal.

  She was certain every inch of her exposed skin glowed from their floggers, including her breasts and pussy, and she’d craved the sting, the bite of pain. It opened all the places in her that she didn’t want to keep hidden from her Doms, her guilt, remorse, and self-doubt. But now she wanted to come more than anything.

  Connor toyed with the base of the plug he’d worked into her an eternity ago. The initial preparation by Rafe’s fingers had elicited the same intriguing effects she recalled from her time in the bath with Connor, and the press of the anal wand, although foreign, was even better. The vibrations it emitted had made her quake and tremble, and she was glad to have the handholds in the swing for support. The dildo, pink and freaking huge, filled her front passage, squelching with her own lubrication, making her Doms chuckle. When she got close to coming around it, her clit pulsing from the teasing licks and strokes, the little pinches, they’d taken it away, leaving her clenching helplessly. The swing didn’t allow her to close her legs and there was no friction…

  When the wand had made her dance, Connor replaced it with the plug, taking his time, using copious amounts of lube to facilitate its entry, all the while crooning his approval and making those filthy, sexy comments that drove her madder with lust. As he tugged it free, turning it in minute increments, she begged shamelessly, promising sexual favors she wasn’t certain were possible.

  “You’ll do that for us anyway, sub.” The dark, erotic threat in Rafe’s voice, spoken quietly against the shell of her ear, made her shudder and she turned to him, blindly, seeking his mouth.

  Connor traced her spine as Rafe kissed her. “You’ll marry me, but Rafe makes the first baby.”

  As a proposal, it wouldn’t appear on You Tube as the most romantic, but it scored high on creativity.

  Tearing her mouth from Rafe’s, she gave the only possible answer. “Yes.”

  Connor traced his tongue over the still tender tracings of the tattoo Rafe had applied to cover Abbott’s brutality. A coiling of concentric circles, it had satisfied something deep within her warrior Dom, and made her his. Theirs.

  The swing adjusted, leaning her forward slightly, and the soft, velvety feel of a stiff cock pressed into the cleft of her buttocks. She ignored the inclination to tense, desperate to seize the orgasm hovering just outside her reach. Connor was naked, his body hard and hot as he pushed steadily past the stretched ring guarding her back passage.

  “That’s it. Stay relaxed, Maddy,” he urged. His belly flexed against her and she reveled in the difference in the textures of their skin. Everything seemed magnified, from touch to scent, to the very breaths they took. The swing rocked gently until Rafe steadied it, taking hold of her waist.

  This was it. DP. Despite her need, or perhaps because of it, her heartbeat ratcheted up and her breath hitched in her throat. Connor whiffled his lips between her shoulders, a curiously calming sensation, while Rafe stripped off, the show momentarily distracting. She’d never tire of looking at him either, all bronze skin over rippling muscle and heavy bone.

  He stepped into her, between her knees, her legs spread so widely he fit without any modification to the apparatus that held her for their attentions, and notched his cock at her opening. “This works, Maddy. Big breaths and push out against Connor.” He pressed inside and his eyes widened. “God, woman, you’re tight. Wet. I can feel him.”

  “We’ll make you fly, sweetheart.” Connor was so big, the feel of him took her voice, and then the burn in her anus splintered into something different, a dark, edgy pleasure. She concentrated on relaxing every muscle in her body, trusting them to take care of her. She welcomed Connor’s sudden grasp on her hair, the tiny pain anchoring her as Rafe forged ever deeper until she was packed full of cock.

  The sensations changed, her inner walls lighting up with the drag against untried nerve endings. And through it all was the intense fullness as he fought for territory against Connor’s throbbing erection. She couldn’t process, desperate need clawing at her, and she bucked in their hold. They held her steady, and the confinement drove her higher.

  Connor released her hair. “You okay?” The words sounded as though he was speaking through a mouthful of broken glass, all splintered and sharp.

  She grunted, a little horrified by her inability to frame an answer, but she was so freaking full and she needed…something.

  ****

  Rafe bit off a chuckle that telegraphed to his screaming cock. It knew what their little sub needed, as she would the next time they took her this way. But he was up, literally, for the challenge, and so was Connor. He met his partner’s dilated eyes over Maddy’s shoulder and they began the act they’d perfected over the years. Except this time it felt like more. Special.

  Setting his feet and bending his knees, his ass clenching, Rafe pulled out a certain distance and the little muscles in Maddy’s sheath rippled along his length as Connor worked further up her ass. Feeling his buddy’s co
ck slide along his own dick, separated only by the thin membrane between Maddy’s colon and her vagina, made his eyes roll up with the sensation of tight, molten heat and indescribable friction. He forced his concentration as he slammed back up into her, Connor now partially withdrawing. His friend took up the rhythm, flexing his hips and taking Maddy’s weight on the downstroke, building the energy right along with Rafe.

  He could feel an enormous orgasm develop at the base of his spine to boil in his balls as the curvy bundle that was their submissive gasped and groaned between them, her fine skin dewing with her efforts. He was damned if he’d go over without her and willed his climax back, waiting for her to fall first. Each thrust and retreat coaxed louder, if incoherent, bursts of sound from Maddy, and he thought he could hear her grinding her teeth past the slapping sounds of three bodies meeting in a weird cadence. Her hair streamed in wild strands, glowing in the halogens, and he remembered the mark he’d set upon her, imagining how it would appear. She was fucking well theirs.

  Doing a little tooth grinding of his own, Rafe powered up his efforts, meeting Connor’s faltering strokes. With a keening wail, Maddy shuddered and clamped down, little heels kicking against the back of his thighs. Rafe let loose his control, his cum spurting forth to bathe her channel, his heart thumping in tune to his pulsing temples. Hoping his brain would eventually settle so he could gain control over some basic motor skills, he heard Connor’s telltale groan as the other man flexed powerfully and drove deep as he came, their cocks possessing Maddy as one. It wasn’t Rafe’s imagination that his partner’s verbalization was more heartfelt, more complete, because his own release had echoed Connor’s. This was intimacy, and far better than plain sex. Well, kinky sex, but still better. There were so many things he wanted to do to their sub, with their sub, and he was certain Connor had his own list.

  Carefully, he withdrew to a whimper from Maddy, and Connor followed suit. She drooped in the swing, and Rafe hastened to free her, working in tandem with his friend, who took her weight as the last buckle came free. Connor looked ridden hard and put away wet, blond hair sweat soaked at his temples. He smiled, a wide, satisfied grimace, and Rafe nearly laughed out loud with what could only be joy. When had he ever felt joy? Connor relinquished her, and Rafe held her tenderly.