by Lana Grayson
No.
But I didn’t have a choice.
I wanted to trust the woman I loved as badly as she wanted to trust me.
But we weren’t fools. We didn’t say it, but we felt it. In every breath, in every promise, in every kiss, we waited to see who would betray the other first.
And I knew it would be me.
Reed rifled through the mini-fridge. He jiggled a bottle of water at me.
“No.” I snuggled into the leather chair with my blanket. Hamlet’s wagging tail beat at my feet. “I hate you.”
“O-kay.” He held up a small carton of orange juice. “This?”
“Nope. Hate you.”
He flashed a can of pineapple instead. “This?”
“Hate you.”
The dimple disappeared as he slammed the mini-fridge shut. He tossed me a soda and knocked the blanket over my head.
“Safe word doesn’t apply to beverage choices.”
Max grumbled from the DVD player. “Or the movie selection.”
I shrugged. “I’m just practicing.”
Nicholas ended his call. I smirked as he plucked me from my chair and settled me onto his lap.
“You want to practice using your safe word, Ms. Atwood?” His voice dripped sin like melting wax. Every drop stung me more than the last. “That can be arranged.”
Nothing good would come from his threat. Nicholas captured me, bound me, and held me as his hostage. I had no defenses against the warmth of his fingers or the spiced sharpness of his scent.
And he knew it.
Trusting him wasn’t my greatest weakness, it was the power I offered him, the submission he desired, and how easily my body responded to the simple closeness of resting in his arms.
Like any other lover.
Girlfriend.
Prisoner.
Heiress.
I liked the sound of that.
Nicholas’s phone chimed. I grabbed it before he did, flipping through the alert.
“Nick?” I flashed the screen at him. “Why does this app think you’re ovulating?”
Reed snickered. “So that’s what we’ve been doing wrong.”
I thumbed through the brightly colored program, decorated with daisies and pastel greens and more information about my body than I felt comfortable having in my own head, let alone someone else’s iPhone.
The happy little app dinged with the word the Bennetts loved more than any other.
Fertile.
Nicholas took his phone. He held me tighter against him, like he thought I’d try to leap away.
I debated it. The past couple days suddenly made much more sense. My step-brothers hadn’t touched me, not even Nicholas. Now I knew why. They were…saving up.
Oh, Christ. I should have been insulted. I should have lectured them or fought them or did something to shame them for their perversions.
But it was better to let them hope. They could track me on a calendar or hold me down to fuck day after day, but the Bennetts would never get their heir.
I wished I had the courage to reveal everything to Darius, and not just the infertility. The stock. Josmik. How I earned Reed and Max’s alliances and wedged myself within Nicholas’s heart. Darius tried to steal my family and its fortune, but he played his full hand and exhausted everything he could do to me.
I won.
And if Nicholas wanted to ravish me in nightly delights for a lost cause, all the better. His attentions shielded me from the nightmares and the insult of my kidnapping, abandonment of my company, and nights in a strange bed.
Not that Nicholas’s bed felt strange anymore—only returning to it with welts on my back and the touch of another man seemed bizarre.
Then again, Nicholas eagerly reminded me where I rightfully belonged. I did enjoy his lessons, even if they were programmed into an alert on his phone.
“What are you planning?” I bit my lip. “Should I be worried?”
His voice promised more than he revealed. “Just what do you think is about to happen, Ms. Atwood?”
I had a good imagination. I arched an eyebrow.
“Do your worst, Nicholas Bennett. I’m not afraid of you.”
He brushed his lips against my neck, murmuring between heated breaths and gentle kisses. His voice rumbled everything secret inside of me.
“You aren’t meant to fear me. You were made to obey me.”
“I won’t do that either.”
“You will. And I won’t need restraints or whippings to earn your obedience.”
“What will you use?”
“Nothing.”
My stomach twisted, but I wasn’t sure if I welcomed the fluttering. “You’re confident.”
“You’ve already surrendered to me,” he said. “And I’ll prove it.”
“How?”
He nipped my neck as Max sunk into the chair next to us, entirely too close for such sensual talk. The screen flickered as the movie started. Nicholas curled his arms over me.
“No talking during the movie, Sarah. Bennett house rule.”
I couldn’t resist. “How would you stop me?”
Max answered for him. “We’ll find something to stuff in your mouth.”
I quieted, imagining the salty taste of his cock. The thought promised more fun than watching Batman for the second time in the month, but I traced an imaginary zipper over my lips. It disappointed Max. I smirked.
Nicholas threatened me with obedience, yet my step-brothers expected me to misbehave. What good was submission if they waited to see how I would inevitably challenge them?
Maybe I wouldn’t.
Just this once.
I cuddled against Nicholas’s chest, curling my fingers in the silken vest he wore under his jacket. Even at home, Nicholas preferred his slacks and dress shirt, refusing the casual shorts Reed wore or jeans like Max. It wasn’t the pajama party, sleeping bags, and popcorn I’d sneak into Josiah or Mike’s bedroom, but I could handle a quiet night under my step-brothers’ control.
I thought.
The movie began just as Nicholas’s hand twisted in the hem of my dress. He hesitated, as if he expected me to bat away his touch so near his brothers.
But that wouldn’t be the obedient thing to do.
I wouldn’t hide, even if Reed and Max happened to see the flash of my thigh and the tracing of Nicholas’s fingers. They watched more than that before. They experienced it before.
Again and again.
One after the other.
In the wildest, most overwhelming night of my life.
My pulse fluttered, but I didn’t stop his hand. Nicholas’s voice rumbled against my ear.
“You know what phrase to practice saying, don’t you, Ms. Atwood? If you use it, I might take pity on you.”
Pity? It didn’t matter how many times I surrendered, I had no need for a Bennett’s pity.
“I’m stronger than you think.”
He hummed. “What did we say about talking during the movie?”
“But you—”
His kiss silenced me—a nibble that demanded, conquered, and quieted. He had no right to control me so thoroughly. The graze of his lips stole my protests. His wicked tongue flicked against mine. It was not an innocent touch.
His scent enthralled me. It bound me against him with the strength of chain and the gentle tickle of a feather. Spicy and masculine, sharp and clean, Nicholas was everything dark that lingered beyond the halo of a fantasy. He was once my warden, preventing my escape and responding to my every challenge with greater defiance. When I walked, he followed. When I fought, he overpowered me. When I angered, he responded in blind passion.
His kiss tempted me, revealing my inexperience. I understood nothing about my body, yet I eagerly submitted to the demands of a man more experienced. Far more powerful.
How was I supposed to resist Nicholas?
I had no reason not to believe him when he vowed to protect me.
But that was a harder submission that partin
g my lips and permitting the tingling victory of his tongue against mine.
I so easily loved the man, but my instincts warned me not to trust the Bennett.
He palmed my thigh. I curled against him. His fingers teased, but where he intended to touch, the wetness I couldn’t deny, hid between my crossed legs and the layers of my unspoken resistance.
I studied the hardened length of his jaw. Perfect. His countenance was forged for a lifetime of authority, the world of wealth, and nights of stolen passion. Each of my step-brothers possessed an unnatural appeal—Nicholas’s golden eyes and uncompromising grace, Max’s dangerous strength and thriving hunger, and Reed’s charming dimple and playboy simplicity.
His hand squeezed the swell of my thigh. I squirmed in a restless struggle against the delicious thrill.
I shouldn’t have been attracted to them.
It was wrong to let Nicholas fondle me in front of his brothers.
It was worse he let his brothers take me.
My life was a series of mistakes that somehow ended in pleasure. This was another moment I wouldn’t regret. Every right decision and necessary complication and lost reward tangled within the hem of my dress, easing higher and higher with his encouraging tug. A murmur accidentally slipped from my puffy lips, eager for the return of his kiss.
“Sarah, quiet.” Reed chastised with a smirk. “Watch the movie.”
I didn’t dare apologize, not for my breathy whisper or my revealing sigh. Nicholas parted my thighs just enough for his hand to paw lower, exactly where I needed him to touch.
Nothing compared to Nicholas’s attention. Just the barest of brushes, the slightest bump of his knuckle against my panties enraptured me more than Max’s flogger or a delicate lick of Reed’s tongue.
His second stroke pressed harder. My shiver pleased him, as did my eager humiliation to arch my hips toward his tease.
Once, Nicholas used ropes and bindings to touch me.
Now?
I willingly gave myself to a Bennett.
He explored the silk of my panties with a bold possession. The material gathered to the side. The darkened theater hid my vulnerable body from my step-brothers, but the exposure still flushed my cheeks. Nicholas darted a finger against my slit. He easily slipped within my slickened folds.
And growled.
He was allowed to make noise, but the instant I whimpered, his gentle touch turned to pinch. I quieted only as I realized his stroking was not meant for my excitement. His attention focused on the movie and not the trembling woman tensing in his arms, silently begging for the next flick, rub, or press.
Cruel.
That’s what he was, and I was a fool to ever think otherwise.
I shifted toward him, and Nicholas slowed his touches. I relaxed, and he began again, circling my sensitive nub and savoring each twitch of my breath. I gripped his arms, but his pace didn’t increase or slow. He just…touched me.
Heat twisted within my core, punishing me for my eager wetness. I wanted a lick. A kiss. Something big and thick that could pierce through me and silence the demanding insanity that nearly drove the whimper from my lips.
I was supposed to be quiet.
I was supposed to submit.
Was I supposed to just let Nicholas tease me into oblivion?
It was easier to be held down, forced to spread my legs under his command. I had no idea how to ask for relief, not even from the man I was foolish enough to love.
He teased, and I shifted against his lap. It earned a harder rub of my clit. The sensation rocked me. I tensed and shifted again.
Grinding against a Bennett.
Christ, I’d have died of embarrassment if he didn’t suffocate me with heat first.
The shudder rolled over me, promising a blistering end to the torment. I arched again, striking the same spot with a harder touch. I bit my lip and slid against his fingers.
Nicholas hummed. He removed his hand.
And pulled his phone.
My nails might have sliced through his shirt had he not suddenly stood. He scooped me into his arms and unceremoniously set me in Max’s lap.
“I have to answer this email,” he said.
An email? Was he kidding?
I raced to soothe my hair and pull my dress down. My core ached with a bitter disappointment, but the shock chased it away. Max grinned as his hands roamed where Nicholas had just abandoned.
“You’re free to say the safe word, Sarah.” Nicholas said, a dashing tease in his tone. “If you feel the need to practice.”
Max wasn’t as subtle as his brother. He tormented me with every aggression Nicholas expertly hid. Max didn’t tickle a path up my leg or gently guide my legs open with soft caresses or practiced demand.
He ripped my panties aside and impaled me against his finger in a single, brutal thrust.
My body shuddered in a war of shame and thrill, insult and lust. I struggled against his harsh strokes, but every violation of his touch layered me in the promise of instant, uncoiling shivers.
Nicholas watched as I breathed a gasped plea.
I bucked, eager for my sudden cresting…
Max chuckled and dragged his finger out of my tightness just before my peak.
Oh, God.
They were toying with me!
“Easy, baby.” Max pinned me as I squirmed, desperate to escape the aching torment of my stolen moment. “You’ve gotta behave first.”
Behave?
I struggled, but his finger plunged within me again, stealing my strength and engulfing me in burning desperation.
“You don’t get to come until Nick says you can.”
No, no, no.
The instructions horrified me. I blushed as though they had simply cuffed me to the wall and taken the tightness they owned.
What did he mean? Permission for my own orgasm?
Did he expect me to beg?
To ask?
How much power did Nicholas wield over me?
Max thrust a second finger inside me, testing the heat and wetness and absolute foolishness that was me submitting to my step-brothers. I knew better than to offer them my body.
Nicholas was right. He didn’t need the collars and leashes.
I captured myself in my own confusion and secrets.
My pussy clamped over Max’s fingers. He scolded me and withdrew, tasting the slickness as I panted in a pained frustration.
“Of course…” Nicholas pocketed his phone, his attention returning as I suffered in Max’s sadism. “You can always practice using the safe word.”
Christ.
They expected it. They meant for me to beg for their mercy as they dominated my body and stole my pride in twisting delight.
Absolutely not.
I resisted them before, faced each of them with an unrelenting determination to protect myself, my family, and every last secret I kept.
And each of them defeated me in their own way.
But not this time.
Not now.
Nicholas demanded my submission, but he anticipated my challenge. He offered me relief…if I admitted my weakness for my step-brothers’ touches.
I wouldn’t give in.
If they wanted to torment me, they’d torment me. I was ready to play the game. No safe word would whisper from my lips, no matter how delicious their torture.
But Max’s attention forged a new type of agony. The sensations raked me with sweat and trembles. I didn’t fight him, didn’t even whimper as his fingers forced through my tightness and sought the secret spot deep within me that buckled my courage and crippled me in his arms.
I bit my lip, but Max saw through my resistance. He drove me to a breaking point, teetered me over an edge of utter damnation, and then withdrew once more.
I panted in his lap and fought the rushing heat scalding me from the inside.
Max loved every moment of it. It wasn’t the sting of leather, but he reveled in any pain he caused, even if it came at the expense of
my pleasure. His strength was too much. I’d never escape his grip. Again and again he buried his fingers in the most desperate part of me and punished me with the peak of my satisfaction. Then, he’d kick me into the bottomless, hopeless, frustrating pit of my own depravity with no reward.
Only frustration.
Only need.
Max’s frantic pace shuddered my entire body in breathless paralysis. I arched, but he shifted me, cradling me against his chest only to drop me into Reed’s waiting arms.
“Fuck,” I groaned.
Reed winked. “Not yet.”
Christ, it only got worse.
Not Reed.
I’d never resist Reed.
He broke my every defense, cracked my hesitations, and toyed with my frustration. He pushed my legs apart and gave a playful smile. Reed pretended his attention was meant to prove his devotion. I knew the truth.
He’d undo me with desire.
He was a friend. He was my first ally. Hell, he was almost like a real step-brother.
But Reed was still a Bennett, and his amusement was delivered in cruelty. The flick of his finger teased with softness, but even his gentleness jerked and flinched my body. I demanded more.
Under Nicholas’s instruction, Reed had spent hours learning every secret of my body. He meant to take me just like Nicholas, to leave his mark within me. He’d learned how I reacted, wetted, and crested, if only so his seed had the best chance to steal what belonged to his brother.
They were all lunatics.
And I couldn’t stop wanting them.
Reed didn’t have the patience of his brothers. His attention drove me too fast to the peak and damned me too low when I dropped without satisfaction. I fought him, gripping his wrists and gasping for breath. He laughed.
“Safe word?” He pinned my arms. “Come on, Sarah. You used it for everything before. Just whisper it to me.” He glanced at his brothers. “I won’t tell anyone.”
I said nothing. I asked for nothing.
And Nicholas watched with a cruel enthusiasm for the moment I’d finally crack and beg for the relief he’d give.
As if it wasn’t obvious.
As if it hadn’t been his plan all along.
The damn app revealed it. Today was their best shot at saving my life or stealing my company, whatever they pretended the reason was now.