by Logan Fox
He frowned at her. “We’ll have to approve everything first. Location, guard duties—”
Cora squealed and ran into him full tilt. He caught her with ease, and held her tight against him, inhaling her scent.
It was so easy to forget how young she was but when her enthusiasm burned like an incandescent flame…it was as if her youth scorched away layer after layer of hardened cynicism from his soul.
“We’re having a party!” she exclaimed into his chest, wriggling like she was bursting with energy.
“We’re having a party,” he said as he stroked her hair.
“A birthday party, if I’m not mistaken,” Lars said as he walked past them. “Sweet twenty-one.”
And then he was out the door without another word.
Cora leaned back from Finn, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Is he—?”
“He’ll be fine.” Finn pulled her back to him. “But we should get Ana in here so we can plan this thing. I don’t want any surprises.”
12
Its taboo nature
It took Lars about twenty minutes to find what he was looking for. By the time he got back to Cora’s room, it had transformed into party planning HQ. A laptop sat on the coffee table, two notebooks open beside with Cora’s illegible scrawl filling a page.
Even Ana was there, and she was only one that noticed he’d arrived. Her eyes darted to the rope and silk scarf dangling from his hand, and then back to him. Color painted her cheeks a moment later, and she rushed to her feet, almost knocking over Cora’s glass of wine as she brought it to her mouth for a sip.
“Ana!” Cora looked away from the computer, lifting her arms away to check if she’d gotten wine on herself.
And then she looked up and saw Lars. And her eyes darted to the rope.
“What are you—?” Cora cut off, throwing Ana a guilty look which Ana missed.
“I, uh…I’ll come back later,” Ana said hurriedly.
“But we haven’t even decided on—” Cora began, but Ana waved her hand absently behind her as she made her way past Lars with a knowing smile directed in his direction.
“We can make anything happen with enough cash,” Ana called out behind her. “Trust me.”
She winked at Lars as she turned to close the door behind her.
When he faced the room again, everyone had gone silent. Cora put her glass of wine down, her eyes flashing to the rope and back to him. “Lars, we have to—”
He tossed the rope and silk scarf onto the table, where it landed in a heap on top of her notebook.
“Get undressed.”
Cora spluttered, started to get to her feet, and then stayed seated cross-legged in front of the computer. Milo and Bailey sat on the settee behind her, and both glanced between the two as if they were watching what was turning into a very interesting tennis match.
“The longer you take, the more brutal your punishment, Princess.”
Her chest expanded how she inhaled.
Lars lifted his hand, fingers outstretched, and twisted it at the wrist. “The more you protest, the longer you’ll have to count.”
“Count?” she snapped, her voice wreathed with caution.
“Get up,” Lars said.
She glanced at Milo over her shoulder, but he just got to his feet and made his way around the settee, heading for the bathroom.
Cora threw him a pleading look. “Lars, listen, this isn’t the right—”
“Five,” he said.
“Five what?”
“Six.”
She got to her feet, but she was frowning hard. “Maybe, in an hour—”
“Seven.” He wriggled his hand again. “I’ve got a strong arm. I don’t think you’ll make it to ten.”
Realization bloomed in her eyes. “Oh no,” she said, lifting her hands as she backed up. “There’s no way—”
“Eight.” Lars pointed to the closed bathroom door. “And then Milo takes over.” He laughed. “You think I’ve got a strong arm?”
“What?” Her voice was a mixture of outrage and disbelief. “You’re joking, right? No.” She swiped her hands in the air. “You hear me? No.”
Lars ambled closer. He snatched his paraphernalia from the table and gave her a smarmy grin. “You’re forgetting something, Princess…”
Cora was retreating again. Her legs bumped into the dresser, and she fumbled around as if looking for a weapon. “I don’t care what you say,” Cora said. “You’re not going to—”
“…We make the rules in here.”
She raced for the bedroom door. But he’d seen her intention, and darted to the side to intercept her. Cora squealed when he snatched her up and wriggled like a fish out of water.
“Put me down!” But it was less a command and more a restrained giggle. “Lars! Put me down!”
Bailey got to his feet as Lars passed him with the laughing, thrashing Cora.
“Please!” she begged through a laughing sob, going limp in his arms. “There’s no time for this.”
“Oh, there’s always time for this,” Lars murmured into her ear. “You only live once, Princess. Remember that after the third time you come tonight.”
. . .
As much as she wanted to break free, to yell at Lars to put her down, her traitorous body wanted nothing more than what Lars had promised. She should have been planning, making sure nothing would go wrong tomorrow night. Instead, her belly writhed and the thought—just the thought—that Lars was actually going to tie her up…
Cora attempted to break free, but she couldn’t stop laughing, and that had weakened her muscles to the point where she had zero control over her body.
Lars dumped her on the bed. She tried to crawl away, but he caught her ankle and dragged her back.
“You gonna strip, or am I going to have to do it for you?”
And God, that question set off a fireworks of tingles through her. “No, I’ll do it.”
But she was taking too long, laughing as she was, because a few seconds later, Bailey appeared beside Lars. He ran his hands roughly up her thighs and tugged at the button of her jeans. She gaped at him, tried to slap his hand away, and then delivered a kick to Lars when he tried to pin down her ankle.
“Hey, I’m serious,” she said, grabbing Bailey’s wrist. “There’ll be time for this—”
“Bailey, gag her.”
“What?” Her heart gave a hard thump in her chest. “No. No way!”
Which was when Finn came out of the bathroom, his shirt off and his eyes bright and fixed straight on her where she struggled on the bed.
And her body, as if sensing a predator, went limp in self defense.
Holy hell, but he had a beautiful body. His sculpted muscles stood proud as he worked his hands together. They shone too, as if he’d put oil on them.
A massage?
Now that would be a treat.
Her body relaxed even more at the thought, and Bailey peeled off her jeans while she lay hypnotized by Finn’s slow, determined approach.
“Thought she’d be naked already,” Finn said, his ruined voice sending a shiver all the way down her spine.
“She doth protest too much,” Lars said.
A coarse, thick rope brushed her ankle. She looked down, instinctively tugging her ankle away when Lars tried to loop the rope around it.
He stroked her calf, murmuring, “Easy,” to her as he glanced up at her with mischief glittering in his green eyes.
“What’s your safe word, Princess?” Finn asked, coming to stand in front of her.
Bailey grabbed her other ankle, drawing it away. But there was only one rope, and that Lars was tying off against the foot of the bed. Leaving her tethered by one foot like an animal prone to roaming.
“Swan,” she said.
Her skin pulsed with anticipation, trepidation, lust. But her heart was fluttering like a butterfly against her ribs. She licked her lips, and glanced over at Lars, who was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Don’t hurt me,” she
said.
Lars made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want to you, Princess.”
“No, but come on,” she said, writhing on the sheets. “No slapping and stuff. I don’t like that.”
“How would you know if you’ve never tried?” Lars asked, shrugging his shoulders. His shirt glided to the floor as his fingers went to his jeans.
“I’m pretty sure I won’t.”
Fingers touched her shoulders, and she flinched. Tipping her head back, she stared at Bailey. She’d expected an apologetic look on his face, but all she saw was wary anticipation.
“You can always tap out,” Finn said, trailing his fingers up her bare leg.
They’d left her underwear on, but for how long? It was damp already, and that made her even more aware how clothed they were.
“But then playtime’s over for good, so I’d try and stick it out long as possible,” Lars said, and his eyes darted up to Bailey. “Take off her shirt.”
She snatched her hands away from Bailey, but he caught them again, lifting them up so Finn could lean across and hike her shirt up her ribs.
Bailey didn’t pull it off all the way though. Just as her head broke clear of the collar, he twisted the sleeves around her wrists, trapping her inside the fabric. He did such a thorough job that, even when she struggled to slide out, she couldn’t.
There was no point in protesting.
She could see hunger in each of their eyes now. A need that only she could fulfill. It scared her, but it also filled her with a sense of pride.
These strong men were too weak to hold themselves back from taking what they needed from her. A weakness she couldn’t help but exploit.
She wanted them to take as much as they wanted.
More.
Until she had nothing left to give.
. . .
Cora’s arms had been warm, but her skin was cooling. Bailey gripped the mess of fabric and fingers he’d made with her shirt so tight he could feel her pulse against his thumb.
Her heart raced.
But his did too.
This felt so fucking wrong, on so many levels. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—stop.
Her presence intoxicated him. It had, for so long. To have her this close, naked but for a triangle of dark fabric, was a temptation he couldn’t resist.
There was a safe word, at least, if she wanted them to stop. And she wasn’t fighting anymore.
Except…that had been the hottest part of all, when Lars had snatched her up like that and carried her to the bed like a caveman who’d had enough of dragging women by the hair.
She was into this. He could see it from the tremble in her mouth. The way her chest rose and fell. Her wide, eager eyes tracking every movement Finn and Lars made.
What did he have to do to make her look at him with such voracious apprehension?
He wanted her to worship him like she worshiped these two men.
Bailey took off his vest. Lars had stripped to his briefs—a glance in his direction had been enough to establish that and the size of his massive erection—but Finn was still wearing his jeans.
What the hell was he supposed to do? And why did this feel like some kind of test? Was it because of how fucked off Finn had been in the library earlier?
Jesus, it wasn’t like he’d meant to come so soon. How the hell these two managed such stamina, he didn’t know.
Cora was so beautiful. So erotic. So intense. Even thinking about fucking her made him want to come.
But they held back.
So he’d have to try, even if it killed him.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t kill him.
But it would be the perfect way to go.
Bailey leaned down, stroking Cora’s hair out of her face as he touched his lips to her forehead, then her nose, the corner of her mouth.
Kissing her would be too much, too intimate right now. So he grazed the side of her neck, her earlobe, her jaw.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she gripped him with clumsy, tangled hands as she made encouraging sounds.
He climbed onto the bed, keeping her bound hands pinned with a knee as he ran his hands over her breasts and squeezed her. His reward was a deep throated moan and an arch of her back that pushed her tits hard into his palms.
It had become painful to keep his jeans on; his cock strained so hard against that thick fabric it felt like it would burst a seam.
He kissed her chin, a lush eyebrow, and the top of her head as he stood to take off his jeans.
The other two men had been busy. Lars had tied off Cora’s ankle, and was twisting the scarf around his fingers, turning it into a rope.
Finn had stripped to his trunks, and was kissing his way up Cora’s leg. He reached her knee, and she began squirming.
“Take it off,” she said, wriggling her hips. When the two men didn’t respond to her, she tipped her back to look at him. “Bailey? Take it off.”
Her underwear. He reached for her hips, and then stopped.
She shouldn’t be calling the shots. Not now. In here, she was Princess, not La Sombra. Not capo. Just a woman.
Their woman.
In here, she obeyed them.
“Nine,” he said.
Lars barked a laugh. “Boy catches on quick, don’t he, Milo?”
Finn just let out a soft growl and carried on working his way up Cora’s leg.
Wisely, she didn’t argue the point, but her eyes did widen.
Finn shoved her legs apart. Since she still wore her underwear, it shouldn’t have been that lascivious. But it was. It was so fucking hot seeing her spread like that, unable to move, unable to fight.
He climbed back onto the bed, all too aware of how close his cock was to the warmth of Cora’s arms. He wore boxers, but his dick was tenting them like they smelled snatch and wanted out.
When he looked up, Lars’s eyes were on him.
It shouldn’t have—fuck, he’d never thought of a guy in any kind of sexual way—but having those eyes on him made him harden even more. Knowing, in a few minutes, he’d be seeing Lars fuck Cora.
And it would turn him on as much as fucking her himself.
. . .
Her entire body was on fire. Electricity pulsed through her, just under the skin. The smallest tear, even a pin prick, would send a thousand volts of current arcing from her like lightning.
And it was because no one had touched her yet. Not where it mattered. Not where she hummed and purred like a little kitten. Her entire body ached with the need for one of her men to stroke her. To thrust into her. To make her come.
But, instead, they were raining kisses on her body like a moth rain in June.
Finn was almost to her inner thigh. And then he forced open her legs so suddenly she gasped.
Instinct took hold. She tried to close her legs again, a flurry of unbidden thoughts spilling through her mind; embarrassment about her body, her trembling thighs.
But Finn grabbed her thighs—one in each meaty hand—and dimpled her skin how he held her open.
He scraped his teeth over one hipbone, catching the fabric of her underwear, and let it snap back against her skin. Then the other.
She writhed, and Finn gave her a light slap to the side of her thigh. She stilled in shock, and he made a sound as if this had pleased him.
And that sent a whole flurry of bliss through her.
Lars’s mouth brushed against her stomach, then he caught one of her nipples between his teeth. A burst of pain had her gasping, but then a twist of silk cut off the sound.
They’d gagged her again.
And it wasn’t even as if she’d been making that much noise.
But maybe they preferred their captive silent and obedient. Which shouldn’t have pissed her off, but it did.
She spat out the gag. It took Lars a few seconds to notice, since he was still lavishing bites and kisses on her breasts, but when he noticed, he froze.
Straightening, he gave he
r a cool stare as he took away the gag from where it had landed over her neck, and said, “Are you doing this on purpose? Do you want us to punish you? Because it’s not a punishment if you want it, you realize that, right?”
She said nothing, but she couldn’t look away from his intense stare either.
Until Finn yanked her underwear to the side and ran his tongue over her slit. Her back arched off the bed, eyes squeezing shut as a wave of pleasure crashed over her.
Lars pushed her down again with a hand on her belly. Then he came in for a kiss, and it was all she could do to keep breathing.
Finn’s tongue returned, making her moan hard against Lars’s mouth.
Now she had two tongues to contend with—one expertly working her mouth, the other tantalizing her more and more with each slow lick up her slit.
The weight keep her hands down disappeared.
Bailey?
Concern flashed through her; the thought she’d done something wrong, that he couldn’t stand the sight of Lars and Finn doing unspeakable things to her while he had to watch. Her chest grew tight, and what pleasure there was became dim.
But then a third hand clamped down on her thigh.
There was a snick as he cut away her underwear.
Baring her.
She squirmed, wanted to close her legs, unable.
Instead, all she could do was try and kiss Lars back as a second tongue—Bailey’s—flicked over the sensitive nub of her clit while Finn still licked the length of her entrance.
Lars drew at her, their breath growing hot and humid how they panted through their kiss. First one hand, then another, grabbed her breast.
And she couldn’t tell whose it was.
Realized that it didn’t matter.
There wasn’t a pleasure point in her body that wasn’t being lavished with attention.
And she felt like she would explode.
No…she was exploding. A climax pounced on her out of nowhere.
Her hips bucked hard, grinding two mouths against her sex. A tongue speared inside her while a warm mouth enclosed her mound and sucked.
Lars moved back, giving her air to gasp with. But then he had her nipple in his mouth, teasing that bud of puckered flesh with his teeth until she saw stars.