by Amy Valenti
"It suits you,” he said, running his finger carefully across the handcuff ring.
"It's beautiful. Thank you so much, Sir.” I tried to keep my attention on him, rather than the box he was holding—a box bigger than, but otherwise identical to, the one he'd left in the kitchen yesterday.
Amused, he held it out to me. “Go on, open it."
I thanked him and ripped open the new gift, trying not to act like a five-year-old at Christmas. The collar inside was stunning—heavy-duty black leather with silver studs, and an O-ring I just knew Pierce was going to love tugging me around by.
Speechless, I looked up at him, wanting to ask if this was really what I thought it was, but unable to find the right words.
Pierce smiled. “Yes, little tease. If you want it."
Then he kissed me hard, as if he could see longing etched clearly into my face, driving the thoughts from my head and the strength from my limbs. Trembling, I stood on tiptoe to press myself closer, letting him know that he was exactly what I wanted for my birthday, and his arms closed tightly around me, crushing our bodies together.
"Happy birthday,” he said when we drew apart. “The ring is for you to wear at all times. The collar, I expect you to wear at home, unless we have company."
He brushed his fingers over my naked neck, and when he spoke again I knew a dramatic shift in our relationship was beginning.
"You know what these gifts signify?"
It was a formality. We both knew exactly what was happening.
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell me."
"They mean you own me, Sir."
He nodded approvingly. “They do. Once I put the collar around your neck, you'll become my slave."
His slave...
I let the words leave their signature on my soul, finally allowing myself to believe.
His property. Owned by him. Collared to him. Bound to him.
He read the wonder and excitement on my face and smiled. “Are you still with me, little tease?"
I grinned, realising I'd been miles away. “Yes, Sir. Sorry."
"Stay there and close your eyes."
He moved away from me as I complied, and I listened to the sounds of him moving around.
A shock went through me as something cold brushed my breasts, and I gasped, realising it was the cuff-chain I'd abandoned on the coffee table. My nipples hardened, partly from the chill and partly from the touch, and I sighed when Pierce's warm mouth replaced the cool of the metal, his tongue teasing each peak for a fraction of a second before he withdrew.
Aching for his touch, I waited. Pierce took one wrist and clipped one end of the chain to the cuff, then repeated the motion with the other, restraining my hands behind my back. I couldn't help but give a tug at the cuffs, testing the restraints.
"Open your eyes."
I did, to find him looking me up and down with an expression that made me want to melt.
He circled behind me, and it took all my willpower not to turn my head to follow his movements. I could feel his appreciative gaze heating my skin.
"I should make you come to work like this,” he said idly.
Oh God, oh God, oh God...
The pleasurable ache between my thighs intensified at the thought, and I tried to hold still. But if there was a hotter scenario in the world, I couldn't find it.
"I should make you give me evidence reports while I push inside you and finger-fuck you until you can't stand..."
Had I just thought there was no hotter scenario? I'd been wrong.
Biting back the urge to beg for his touch, I squirmed a little, squeezing my thighs together to try and ease the demands of my pussy.
Pierce slapped my ass lightly as a reprimand, barely hard enough to sting, and I tried to relax. “I'm sorry, Sir."
"Since it's your birthday, I'm gonna go easy on you for that, little tease,” he said, but as I met his eyes I saw he didn't expect as much control as the words implied. At least, not tonight.
"Thank you, Sir,” I replied softly.
He smiled, stepped behind me again, and there was a rustle of clothing as he stripped off his shirt. When his chest pressed against the bare flesh of my back, I almost fell back against him.
He encircled my waist with his arms and pulled my body in line with his, my bound hands pressing against his obvious arousal. I closed my eyes as he began to trace his fingers back and forth over my abdomen, travelling lower with each pass. His measured breath against the side of my neck was driving me insane. For what seemed like an eternity, I waited.
He finally brushed one fingertip across my clit, and I couldn't help but cry out. The touch was gone as quickly as it had come, his hand moving lower, exploring my pussy with infuriating slowness. When his finger returned a second time, I clenched my hands reflexively into fists, pushing them back against Pierce's cock. His breathing caught, and he began to work on me in earnest, plunging two fingers inside me, bearing down on my clit with his thumb at the same time.
Shaking now, I tried to concentrate on keeping upright, involuntarily pushing down on his fingers, unable to keep from gasping out incomplete phrases of encouragement—Oh my...oh, yeah...more, please, you have no idea what this...ah! Just like that, just a little more, oh God, I'm so...
And all the while he kept his fingers moving, adding a third as I moaned unrestrainedly. The only things keeping me from collapsing were his free arm wrapped around my waist and my own willpower.
"And Santoro...Layton...Beaumont...all the techs you work with... If they all walked in to find you there, hanging in my arms, trying to remember what a fingerprint match is while I had three fingers buried inside you...I wouldn't stop. I'd let them watch the show, let them see you're mine."
It was too much—I could hardly stand it. I'd thought I couldn't get any more turned on, but his words lit a fire in my mind that burnt all the way down my body, and without warning I found myself on the verge of climax.
"Permission to come, Sir?” I whispered desperately, terrified I wouldn't be able to hold on for his assent.
For a long moment, he drew out my torment, and I felt myself beginning to tip. Mortification dawned in my mind as I realised I was going to disappoint him, and it was enough to pull me back from the edge for an extra split second, long enough for him to growl in my ear, “Come for me, little tease. Let me hear you..."
His palm grinding down against my clit was all it took. I cried out wordlessly, riding wave after rhythmic wave of pent-up pleasure as it ebbed from my muscles. He withdrew his fingers, holding me up as I sagged against him, trying to regain awareness of where I was.
"Thank you, Sir,” I murmured, as soon as I could remember how to talk.
"You're my slave in everything but name, little tease,” he said when I could stand without support, his gaze intense and affectionate all at once. “Are you ready to wear my collar?"
"Of course, Sir."
He really has to ask?
He kissed me, and I melted against him again, basking in my Dom's love. Drawing back, he told me, “Go to the bedroom, kneel and wait for me."
Without further discussion, I did as he asked, dropping into position beside the bed.
It was at least ten minutes before he joined me. I resisted the urge to fidget, feeling my nervous expectancy fade to calm acceptance. The message was clear—this would happen on his terms, not on mine.
After a while, he entered the room, stood in front of me and said, “Look at me, little tease."
I did, drinking in the sight of him as my eyes travelled up to meet his. He held the collar in both hands and, as I watched, he unbuckled it, then gestured for me to stand up.
"Do you consent to become my slave?” The words were as formal as any wedding vow, and I answered accordingly.
"I do, Sir."
"We'll work on your slave contract more over the next few days. For now, turn around and hold your hair back, little tease."
I did, closing my eyes as the leather strip brushed a
gainst my throat. It took him a couple of seconds to fasten it, but when his hands dropped away, the collar settled around my neck. It was little weightier than the play collar I'd been wearing up until then, and my newfound status finally hit home.
As he gently turned me to face him, my eyes filled up with tears. I wasn't actually crying with happiness, but I was close.
Pierce looked into my face, a small smile on his lips. “My slave,” he said, kissing my forehead and enfolding me in his arms, squeezing tight. “My beautiful little tease."
"Yours, Sir,” I whispered against his shoulder. “All yours."
This was a gift I would carry with me always.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Three
Worth Your While
* * * *
Pierce
"So."
Faye appeared at the top of the basement stairs, wearing a suggestive smile. I looked up from the box I was clearing out, playing dumb. “So?"
She rolled her eyes, skipping down the stairs to stand in front of me. “Santoro's into kink, Sir."
I stared her out, knowing exactly where she was going. “I noticed."
She bounced a little on her toes as she realised I wasn't going to make it easy for her. “Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
I drew it out—the idea of bringing Santoro into our game was one I was pretty happy with, and I felt almost playful. “Am I gonna regret it if I say yes?"
"No, Sir.” Her eyes begged me to hear her out.
I relented, keeping my amusement inside for now. “Go ahead."
"Can I call Santoro out here to come and play with us, Sir? Please, pretty please..."
Santoro had always carried himself a little delicately on certain Monday mornings—sitting down slowly, keeping his wrists covered by his shirt to hide the cuff-marks, occasionally wearing a turtleneck to hide the marks left by overzealous use of lips and teeth.
Faye was enough for me on her own, but earlier this week, I'd noticed her watching Santoro with a small, secretive smile hovering about her lips. When I'd questioned her about it later, she'd said, “Oh, come on, Sir. He's probably been bound and gagged all weekend..."
"You noticed too, huh?"
Her answering giggle had been devilish, and I'd tugged a little on her collar, prompting her to meet my eyes. “Think he knows about us?"
She'd pondered that question, weighing up variables before shaking her head. “I don't think he could hide it if he knew."
"Want to tell him?” I'd asked casually, and heard her breath catch even as I'd turned to pick up my coffee. I'd already known the answer—it was just a matter of time until Faye enticed him into our bed.
I hadn't expected her to jump at the chance this quickly, though. It had only been three days.
I pretended to consider it, turning away to set down the box of junk. Faye waited in silence, watching me, showing more restraint than she had when I'd first began to top her, nearly a year ago. She'd come a long way, and I was proud of her.
"Yeah,” I said finally. “Call him."
Faye shrieked, throwing her arms around me, and I grinned into her hair as she almost squeezed the air from my lungs. “I love you, Sir!"
She released me, and I handed her my cell phone. She dialled immediately, perching on the edge of the workbench in the corner and swinging one leg as she waited for an answer.
"Tommy! What'cha doing?” She watched me watching her as she listened to the response. “Cancel it. Trust me—I have a more fun way for you to spend your night. If you come over here, Zach and I will make it worth your while..."
She cocked her head closer to mine, and I could just about hear Santoro's baffled response come from the phone. “You and Zach? As in, you and Pierce, you and Zach?"
"Yup."
"Okay—one, when the hell did that happen? And two, why does this sound like you're offering me a place in a threesome?"
Faye grinned. “A while ago. And because we are."
We waited as Santoro fell silent. I could practically hear the wheels in his head turning as he considered his next words—could almost see the fear and desire in his eyes. The next few moments were critical, and I laid a hand on Faye's shoulder in warning. She nodded up at me, a touch of anxiety on her face.
Finally, Santoro spoke. “Ummm...Faye? I don't swing that way. And even if I did, I'm pretty sure Pierce doesn't—"
"C'mon, Santoro. This is me you're talking to,” Faye said quietly. “I want this. Zach wants this. And I'm pretty sure you want it, too."
I took stock of the junk I still had to clear out as silence descended again. Faye fidgeted. Then Santoro sighed. “He wants what? To watch me fuck you? For me to watch him fuck you?"
Rolling my eyes, I took the cell from her hand. “Amongst other things, Santoro."
"Boss?” His voice was alarmed, and I sighed inwardly
Should have got him over here before spooking him.
"Come over to my place. My girl and I wanna make you an offer.” Without bothering to negotiate further, I hung up.
Faye bit her lip. “Think he'll come?"
My mind already beginning to map out possible scenes, I kissed her forehead reassuringly. “He'll come."
* * * *
While we waited for Santoro's arrival, I calmed Faye's nerves, pressing her up against the wall and kissing her until she was pliant and relaxed in my arms. By the time we heard the knock at the front door, we were both more than ready to welcome him into our bed.
I cocked my head at Faye, and she dashed for the basement steps with a grin. I watched her go—loose, tangled hair falling around her shoulders, clothing in disarray and lips swollen from my kisses. Santoro would know immediately what she'd been doing for the past twenty minutes, which had been my intention.
As she greeted Santoro and invited him in, I followed her slowly, giving him time to take her in, to realise how much he wanted her. As I ascended the stairs, their conversation became clearer.
"Glad you could make it.” Faye's voice was slightly coquettish—not overplaying it, just enough to be noticeably different from the way she acted at work.
Santoro was cautious—something I sympathised with. He was reluctant to give up his only safety net—the suggestion he'd misunderstood the meaning behind Faye's call and was shocked by the idea we might think him interested in a threesome involving only one woman.
"Faye...have you gone crazy all of a sudden?"
She laughed softly. “No more than usual."
I reached the top of the steps soundlessly, in time to watch Faye pull his jacket from his shoulders. He relinquished it without a fight, his eyes hungrily tracking her movements, belying his nervous chuckle. It was enough to send a brief spark of territorial irritation through me, though I knew how irrational that was. I wasn't used to sharing her, but this had been my decision. And if things went the way I hoped, she'd be sharing me, too.
Santoro didn't notice my arrival—Faye was standing too close, looking at him too intently, for him to be aware of anything else. I leaned against the kitchen doorframe, waiting for the right time to step in.
"So this is...what? Some kind of alcohol-fuelled character assessment Pierce thought up?” He fidgeted a little, still clinging tight to his feigned ignorance.
In response, Faye slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her hips against his, and kissed him gently. In typical Santoro fashion, he held out for only a fraction of a second before he reciprocated.
Never could keep his mind on a puzzle with a pretty girl within fifty feet.
Watching him crush her against him, deepening the kiss as his hands began to wander, I fought the temptation to grab Faye by the hips and pull her out of his arms, back against me. That'd only scare him more—he might have wanted Faye, but the idea of sleeping with his male boss was still gonna give him some trouble. Instead, I waited them out, and within a couple of minutes Faye extricated herself from his embrace, stepping back three paces and turning to l
ook expectantly at me.
I gave her a faint smile, tugging her against my side before turning my attention to Santoro. His libido was blurring the edges of his wariness, but he still reminded me of a rabbit caught in headlights.
"Boss—” he began, then faltered, speechless.
"Santoro.” I looked him up and down, not bothering to hide my intentions. From his Faye-tousled hair to his half-open shirt to his obvious arousal, he was the missing piece of our puzzle, and I was pleased with what I saw.
He flushed a little, obviously uncomfortable with the blatant way I was checking him out, and snapped, “Pierce, what the hell is going on?"
I shrugged. “No catches. You want a place in our bed tonight, you got it."
Santoro nervously licked his lips, looking from Faye to me and back again. He opened his mouth, then closed it again as he bit down on what he'd been about to say. He wouldn't dare to take the plunge without a little help, and I tilted up Faye's chin to give her a brief, hard kiss before sending her back to him.
She stepped into Santoro's arms and attempted to recapture his lips, sighing as he gently dissuaded her, made cautious by my presence.
"Faye—"
"Don't you want me, Santoro?” she asked plaintively, and I stifled a smile at the way she was handling the situation.
He groaned, his eyes flitting to mine. “You know I do, but how can I—?"
The words were cut off by Faye's insistent lips, and with a soft sigh of surrender he returned the kiss.
One of my girl's hands dropped from his hip, reaching behind her for me. Guessing her intent and only half-convinced it'd work, I stepped up beside her, putting my arm around her waist. Santoro felt it and broke off, but he was too intoxicated to step back, even though there were only inches separating the three of us.
Faye turned her face to mine without disentangling her arm from around Santoro's neck. I kissed her, slowly and deeply this time, putting on a show for our boy that Faye was only too happy to participate in. After a few seconds she turned her head again, resuming her kiss with Santoro while her free hand rested on the back of my neck.