by Avery Gale
Chapter Sixteen
Three weeks later…
Standing in front of the one-way glass in Tristan’s office, Brodie looked out over The Knight’s Club’s main room, but he barely registered the scenes taking place below. His mind was lost in the memory of the past three weeks. He’d never been one to wax poetic, but the first night he and Lawton made love to Cressida had been as close to magical as any sexual experience he’d ever had. Even thinking about the first time he’d pressed his naked flesh against hers and pushed the swollen head of his cock against her heat made his cock throb to make that sweet slide into heaven again. That first time—and every time since, sliding inside her scorching heat exceeded any of the fantasies he’d had over the past two years, and that was saying a lot. There had barely been a moment since the day they’d first claimed her that he or Lawton hadn’t been with her. They’d only spent enough time at the office the first two weeks to keep their heads above water, choosing instead to spend as much time as possible getting to know Cressida as lovers and showing her all the physical pleasures of a D/s ménage. Juggling their professional lives in order to spend a week on his father’s boat meant they’d had to squeeze in as much training as possible between trips down to their respective offices. It had been challenging, and they hadn’t gotten to spend as much time with her at the same time as they would have liked. They’d hoped she would begin to see the long term possibilities of the arrangement, but they’d yet to actually ask her how she saw things playing out.
Their week in the Caribbean had been a holiday in paradise filled with lazy mornings spent in bed, sunshine filled afternoons on the deck, and tequila fueled dancing in open cantinas around the islands. Brodie and Lawton had talked while Cressida slept one night before the trip and decided to avoid heavy discussions about a long term commitment during their trip, hoping by letting her enjoy the relaxed time with them as a threesome would set the stage for the important discussion they’d have after returning home.
Cressida had loved the jet skis his father kept on board, and “strip racing” had quickly led to their lovely sub being naked beneath her life jacket—but that was how she’d spent most of their time on-board, so it hadn’t been much of a change for her. At first she’d been very hesitant to be nude in front of the other men on the boat, the first day her reluctance had forced them to push that boundary by restraining her on the deck and deliberately calling out various members of the boat’s crew making frivolous requests until she had finally relaxed.
Having a crew who understood the value of discretion meant they hadn’t hesitated to continue her training without concerning themselves the stewards or navigation officers might happen upon their scene. One of the hazards of wealth was being forced to continually anticipate public exposure of their lifestyle, but Brodie’s dad had assured them the yacht’s crew was so well compensated, their loyalty was assured.
After the first night’s struggle over clothing, they’d enjoyed displaying their beautiful treasure, and had been thrilled to discover Cressida was even more of an exhibitionist than they’d hoped she might be. Before they’d left New York City, they’d gotten a preview of that particular attraction when she had ignited flaming passion as they’d taken her on their open balcony. But since there weren’t many apartments higher than theirs in that part of the city, her risk of exposure had been minimal. Because the chance she’d be “caught” had been so insignificant, they hadn’t been certain how she would react to direct observation. Both he and Lawton had been thrilled to see her blossom as a submissive, but they weren’t naïve enough to think that desire would automatically transfer to a venue where Cressida might well be faced with people she already knew.
The intensity of the past three weeks and the fact they’d spent so much time waiting for the chance to make her their own, made this wait even more interminable. Thinking back on how things had gone when they’d told her earlier in the week they’d be taking her to the club tonight, Brodie remembered how surprised he’d been by her less than enthusiastic reaction. But the quick flair of panic he’d seen in her eyes had worried him more, even though he hadn’t thought her concern was related to the club itself. He’d briefly wondered if the knowledge her stalker was still out there had played in to how timid she’d become, but that hadn’t seemed likely either.
Lawton had been cooking their dinner, so his focus hadn’t been fully on their conversation, but his frown let Brodie know his friend had sensed Cressida’s mood shift despite his distraction. When Brodie questioned her, the stuttered response she’d finally given them had squeezed his heart. He and Tristan had grown up living privileged lives, they’d always had money and really didn’t know what it was like to live solely off the money they earned from the token salaries they drew from T.E.G. Hearing her plans to go to a spa in Brooklyn and hit a couple of discount fetish wear boutiques made him feel like a first class jerk.
Lawton had spun on his heel to face them, his pained expression reflecting how Brodie felt. Realizing they’d failed miserably at instilling a sense of comfort and security in the woman in their care. In his opinion, one of the most basic premises of their chosen lifestyle, was ensuring their submissive felt safe and cared for. All four owners of The Knight’s Club had been in agreement when they’d drafted their version of the Knight’s Code of Chivalry, including all the elements of the original code, but adapting it to reflect the behaviors they wanted to see reflected in the members. They’d incorporated safe, sane, and consensual into their version of the Code, but protecting and honoring a submissive who’d given you their trust were each equally important factors in his view. The Knight’s Club Code of Chivalry was displayed throughout the club itself, their website, and all Doms, Dommes, and Masters signed a pledge to uphold the Code both inside and outside of the club.
Brodie had taken her hands in his, stilling her chilled fingers as they twisted together—a habit they’d noticed she displayed anytime she was nervous or especially distressed. “Pet, we’ll be providing your clothing because we have something special in mind. Now, why do you want to go to the spa?” Lawton’s snort of exasperation drew his attention, “What?”
“I’d wager every woman wants to go to the spa before their first visit to a kink club—that’s not what concerns me.” Turning to Cressida, he continued, “Two things, baby—first, as your Masters it is our right, responsibility, and privilege to pamper you, so we’ll always pay for your spa visits and club wear. My second issue is with your plan to visit a spa we don’t know anything about—sorry, my love, that’s just not fucking happening for too many reasons to list before dinner.”
The look on Cressida’s face had been something between incredulous disbelief and apocalyptic fury. Under different circumstances, Brodie might have actually stepped in to negotiate because Lawton’s edict had certainly made him sound like a first class ass even though he was ordinarily anything but tyrannical. But, it had been the fit Cressida had thrown that earned her a paddling she would likely remember for a long time. Brodie had explained—in great detail, that it had been her attitude, not her disagreement that had put her over his lap. Thinking back on the way it had all played out, it was easy to see Lawton’s declaration had simply been the spark that set her off—what he didn’t know was why she’d been spoiling for a fight to begin with.
“You look worried. Anything I can help with?” Brodie was startled out of his thoughts by Tristan’s voice, amazed the man had managed to get so close without him noticing.
“You move like a fucking cat, you know that? Christ, give a man some warning next time.” Tristan’s all black ensemble made him look as dangerous as Brodie knew his friend could indeed be.
Tristan chuckled, “Well, in my defense, I really didn’t make any attempt to be stealth, you were just completely wrapped up in whatever was on your mind. Now, what’s your boggle?” Brodie often forgot the friend he’d met in college was more than the manager and Dom in residence at The Knight’s Club. He’d asked Trista
n once why he’d continued his studies until the Ivy League had finally just accepted the fact he was apparently going to be a lifelong fixture on campus. The last time Brodie had checked, his friend had not only earned a PhD in Behavioral Science, but he’d been close to completing his MBA as well. In an unusually candid moment, Tristan had explained he’d known since he was a small child he would never have to earn a living like other people, but he’d grown up knowing the key to fulfillment wasn’t money. Tristan insisted money didn’t mean anything unless you understood people, so he’d devoted himself to that pursuit first.
With that thought in mind, Brodie turned to face his friend recounting what had taken place earlier in the week. While he’d been talking, they’d moved to one of the sitting areas in his spacious office. Brodie appreciated that Tristan had settled in the casual grouping because the acoustical cone above them meant their voices wouldn’t travel beyond the small circle. The security measures Parker had insisted on incorporating in T.E.G. building and the club had seemed over-the-top at the time, but Brodie had slowly come to appreciate how proactive those enhancements had been.
Before they’d gotten far in the discussion, Lawton stalked through the door swearing a blue streak before finally sagging into a chair, “That woman is pushing my patience to the limit. She had a hundred excuses why I shouldn’t have a car and driver at her disposal. She’d planned to ride the bus for God’s sake. The only thing worse would have been thinking about her down in the subway. I’ve known her for two years and never seen her act out like this. What the fuck? There are moments I think she doesn’t want this at all.” Brodie had never understood his friend’s hatred of the city’s subway system, but it had always been completely out of the question as a method of transportation as far as Lawton Hill was concerned.
Lawton’s uncanny timing made Brodie smile, “We were just discussing that.”
Tristan smiled and shook his head, “I really should make you too numbskulls retake the Intro class. Does it occur to you that she’s pushing you to see if you’re really committed to this? From what little I know about her background, the only person who has ever consistently had her back is her sister. And what have you two jokers done to make her feel secure? Have you talked to her about what happens at the end of this month? Do you really think she didn’t do her homework? And by that I mean she’s watched and listened these past two years, so she knows your reputations.” Brodie was working hard to stay in his chair, the only thing keeping him from wiping the floor with his friend was the fact he was right—who are you kidding, he’d kick your ass. Tristan had been studying every conceivable form of self-defense since he was a kid, and his three best friends had stopped grappling with him years ago.
“Fuck. We were trying to ease her into accepting that a ménage relationship could work long term. We didn’t want to rush her.”
“And how’s that working out, do you think? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like your sub is acting out so you’ll prove yourselves worthy of her submission. She wants to know that you won’t turn your back on her if things get a little rocky—because that’s sure as hell how her father handled things.” Holding up a hand when Lawton started to argue, Tristan just shook his head. “Think about it, you two are asking her to completely change the paradigm you’ve been operating under for the past two years, but for all intents you have had to change very little. You’re still in charge, calling the shots, you are still her bosses—but now you’ve added sex and the ability to punish her if she disagrees with you.” Brodie was completely stunned. When Tristan laid it all out on the table, it made him wonder why she’d stuck it out this long.
Brodie hadn’t even noticed Parker had entered the room until he spoke up from where he stood leaning back against a case filled with Knights Templar era antiques, “The person who has made all the concessions is the one who needs to feel the most secure—and doesn’t. I know what she means to you, or at least I thought I did. Why is it the one woman that means the most, is the one you are letting down? You guys suck.”
“Fuck you, man. We’ll see if you do any better when the time comes.”
“Not happening, brother.”
“If the frat house pissing contest is over, can we get back to the subject at hand? I warned you I would have my hands all over this arrangement, I intend to keep my nose in your business until you make it right or she walks.”
Parker snorted, “And at this point, I’d say it could go either way.”
Tristan glared at his friend as both Brodie and Lawton snarled. “You know how organized she is, good God, she single-handedly manages the executive offices at Templar, and bails me out regularly when I can’t keep my head above water here at the club, and I know she’s done the same for Parker.”
Parker stood crossing his arms over his chest, looking for all the world like a protective older brother, “Yes, she does a lot for all of us. She deserves to be happy. Don’t fuck this up.”
*****
Lawton had finally heard enough, “Damn it, Parker, enough with the judgement. Either help us figure this out or get the hell out of here.” He wasn’t surprised to see all three of his friends’ jaws drop because he was usually the answer guy—not the one asking for help. Brodie might be their legal strategist, but Lawton was the one who figured out ways to make their clients’ visions become reality. Hell, he was the one who created games that fed the fantasies of millions of gamers around the world, so he wasn’t without problem solving skills, but this one had him stymied.
Parker simply nodded once in concession and sat down to join the conversation. They spent the next half hour brainstorming solutions much like they had when they were putting together ideas for TEG and the club. These were roles they were all comfortable in, this process was well practiced so the conversation was productive. By the time they were notified by their driver that Cressida would be arriving soon, Lawton finally felt as if he had a better understanding of where they’d gone wrong and how to best salvage the mess they’d made of things.
Both Lawton and Brodie met the car at the curb of the curved drive in front of the club. Seeing her slip her small hand in Brodie’s much larger one and step from the car stole his breath. Despite that they had personally selected her shoes and clothing, the first sight of her long legs clad in black silk stockings and fire engine red fuck me shoes sent a rush of blood to his cock making him grateful the leather jacket he wore would conceal his arousal until they were back inside the club. Knowing how little she was wearing under the lightweight trench coat had him fighting the urge to shove her against the car and sink into sweet pussy right out on the sidewalk—screw the consequences and media frenzy that would surely follow.
Pressing a kiss to her forehead he looked down into her eyes, “You are stunning, baby. We’ve been anxiously awaiting your arrival. And you smell good enough to eat—a theory we’ll be testing soon enough.”
“We’re anxious to show you off, pet. Are you ready?” Brody had pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, and the pink flush that washed over her cheeks let Lawton know Tristan and Parker had been right—they had been far too focused on selling her on how easily they could live together rather than courting her. They’d been acting like they’d already won her, when they hadn’t given her much incentive to want what they offered. A mistake his parents and Brodie’s father would find unforgivable, and certainly one they shouldn’t have ever made.
“Yes, sir. I think so.” Lawton was pleased to hear just the right amount of hesitance in her voice. They didn’t want her frightened, but anticipation could enhance the experience making her first visit memorable.
“Before you walk through the door of The Knight’s Club for the first time as our sub we want to be sure there is no question in anyone’s mind who you belong to.” Pulling the black velvet case from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, Lawton smiled down as her eyes widened. She’d read enough about the Dominance and submission that she’d know they would want her to we
ar a collar keeping the wolves at bay, but he also knew she wasn’t expecting something custom made for her.
Flipping open the case, he let her look at the stunning piece of jewelry gleaming against the midnight silk lining the small case. The three strands of gold were each a different shade indicating their three distinctive personalities, but it was the specially designed lock that drew the eye. The lock was hidden at the front behind a knight’s shield with two swords crossed over a large tapered baguette cut diamond—no one would miss the glaring symbolism signifying two knight’s guarded their gem.
As Lawton clicked the collar into place, Brodie pointed out the fact they were both wearing a gold chain matching one of the strands of her collar and holding a small key. “This collar protects you, pet—in several ways. First, it announces loud and clear that you are not available and that’s a far bigger issue than you realize because you look absolutely amazing and wonderfully fuckable. It also ensures that no other Dom touches you without our permission—which they’ll never get.”
“If you had make a misstep inside, another Master or Mistress would be within their rights to punish you—this puts that responsibility firmly back in our hands.” Lawton ran his fingers over the stands of her collar suppressing his smile when goose flesh pebbled her skin at his touch.
“The other thing you need to remember is, this collar also sends a very clear message to the unattached submissives in the club. It shows our commitment to you, it commands their respect and makes it inappropriate for them to approach us for scenes.” He doubted she fully grasped the significance of what he’d said, but she wouldn’t have to spend much time in the club to figure it out.
“So this tells everyone that you are my Masters?” Lawton smiled, at her thinly veiled question.
“Yes, baby, that is exactly what it tells them. Remember always, the submissive really is the one who has the power. Nothing happens without your consent and in this case, these chains and keys mean just as much as the collar you are wearing.” Lawton and Brodie were already crafting rings that would match the permanent collar they would give Cressida eventually—but first they had another piece of bling to give her. They already had her engagement ring, but they didn’t plan to propose at the club, they had something far more romantic in minds.