The First Order [Safeword LLC 1] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Peyton Elizabeth

  “Lane and I are fraternal twins and have shared everything in our lives since the day we were born. It was during our secondary education that we realized our penchant for control during sex, very much like the control we maintain over our business and personal life. After exploring various avenues, we started visiting kink clubs in order to fulfill our desires. Eventually, we met like-minded people who guided us toward BDSM.”

  “Um, is that how you found out about Safeword?” Becca asked.

  Ross noticed that she was just grazing through her dinner, although he wasn’t one to talk, since he’d yet to take a bite. But he had to wonder if it was her nerves diminishing her appetite, or if it was that she didn’t want the extra calories that the meal was obviously prepared in. Ross made a mental note to keep track of her meals, knowing how essential her health was to this lifestyle.

  “No, not entirely,” Ross replied, setting his wineglass on the table. One was his limit, as well as Lane’s, if there was ever a chance they were going to have a scene with their sub. While they didn’t plan on doing anything too intense, Ross wanted to play it safe. “As Kennedy informed you, Lane and I own a hedge fund. Our offices aren’t too far from here, and I’m sure you will learn about our company before too long. Safeword LLC is a client, and we have a long-standing friendship with Kennedy.”

  “Is she…” Becca let the question slide, as if unsure of what she was asking.

  Ross laughed and responded with honesty. “Is she involved in the lifestyle? She keeps her personal life rather private, as do we among certain groups, so I really couldn’t answer that question even if I knew. We aren’t the type of people to be involved in discussing other people’s personal choices out of school.”

  “So you asked her to find you a woman?” Becca gave up all pretense of eating and placed her fork on her plate. She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table. He’d have to train her in etiquette, remind her not to act so at the establishments they frequented. “I don’t understand. You and Lane are, well, I wouldn’t think you’d need someone else to find a woman for you.”

  “Why would you say that? Is it because we’re wealthy and not too bad to look at? Becca, we’re not looking for a shallow woman who will endure our kinks just so she’ll be able to enjoy our plush lifestyle.” Ross placed his finger into the fold of the knot on his tie and pulled. Once it unraveled, he slipped it out from underneath his collar. “Kennedy runs a successful business because she can see what women desire. The women who seek her out have submissive needs that only a Dominant man can fill. Regardless of every other aspect in a given women’s life, she isn’t fulfilled unless those needs are complete. As for what Lane and I are looking for in a woman—we want someone who is willing to realize her true nature alongside us, and not only on an intimate level. She must be intelligent and independent in everyday life, yet a submissive intimately. We desire a novice willing to be trained to our specific needs, as well as receive our appreciation in kind. Our goal is to find someone to spend our lives with, and though two months might not seem to be enough time to determine such a fate, it is enough time to strip her, and us, emotionally bare to one another.”

  “Why me?” Becca whispered, a small frown creasing her brow.

  “Because out of all the applicants, your answers coincided with what Lane and I have determined we must have in a submissive. It also helps that Kennedy ran into you last Friday and felt that you would be perfect. So, we’ll take these two months to see how compatible we are.”

  “But the answers I gave—a lot of them were unsure,” Becca said, confusion written across her beautiful face. “I don’t know what my soft and hard limits are, let alone what my likes and dislikes are. The only thing I’m sure of is that I don’t like pain.”

  Ross couldn’t prevent the smile that spread across his face. “I’m not a sadist, Becca, although I think you’ll find Lane has a small streak that runs through him. It’s not that either of us wants to hurt you. We don’t and won’t. As we feel our way through the next two weeks, the days that are provided to us to learn one another closely, Lane can make the smallest sting into one of pleasure. It pleases him to take you to those heights. And your uncertainty is one of the things that attracted us to you, seeing as our main request was an untrained sub.”

  “But I don’t look—”

  Ross placed his tie on the table, waiting for Becca to continue. When she remained silent, he debated on whether to finish her sentence or show her. Deciding to do both, Ross started with the first and knew he wouldn’t be able to wait for Lane to finish the second. He smirked, knowing exactly how to welcome his brother home.

  “Becca, there will be times that we voice our pleasure and there will be times you will feel how you please us. But always know this—your physical appearance is beyond what we could have hoped for. Your hair is like blonde silk with a hint of strawberries, whereas your eyes are the color of their leaves. Your face is heart shaped with luscious lips just begging to be kissed. You have a neck of a swan and move with the same grace as one gliding through the water toward its mate. As for your body, Becca, your curves are voluptuous and display your sexuality with every step you take. Your skin is the color of pure cream. You are a vision to the both of us, I assure you. And I plan to prove it to you.”

  The cute frown that marred Becca’s face deepened as her eyes voiced her question of how. Ross’s cock was still hard and the picture he just painted with his words didn’t help matters. He wasn’t going to find relief tonight, but this exploration of her beauty wasn’t about seeking release—it was to instill the confidence she would need to endure the sexual promise he and Lane had given.

  “Rebecca, your first lesson is about to begin.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Undress. Slowly.”

  Rebecca stood trembling in front of a stand-up swivel mirror surrounded by dark cherrywood. Ross ordered her to position herself in the middle of the living room. While she waited for his return, Becca couldn’t help but feel the material of her dress brushing against her nipples. She glanced down and saw they were hardened into tiny pebbles. The central air inside the apartment traveled up the inside of her thigh, causing her to feel the moisture from her pussy that slowly made its way down the inside of her thighs. She had been grateful that he had dimmed the lights, until he had rolled the mirror directly in front of her. No amount of shadows could hide the curves her body possessed. Becca realized that this must be what they referred to as a scene, but she felt very vulnerable being so out in the open.

  “While you slowly strip, I will go over a few ground rules. The list will grow as your time with us lengthens. You will not hesitate once given direction, Rebecca.” Ross placed himself beside the tall mirror and crossed his arms, raising one brow. It was his way of warning her that she was stretching his patience with the first rule. Becca slowly brought her hand up to the knot at the side of her wraparound dress. She didn’t want to break any of his rules and risk him not thinking she was worthy of his time. “Some Dominants prefer that their submissive avert their eyes in their presence. We do not. Your eyes are so very expressive. It is very important that we are able to read your reactions to our directions. Lane and I prefer that you maintain eye contact with us, unless instructed otherwise as I am about to do. Watch your hands in the mirror as they remove your dress, Rebecca. Next, you are to refer to us as Sir when we are in a scene, and are only permitted to speak when spoken to.”

  Rebecca immediately looked at her hands as they loosened the fabric bundled at her waist. A shot of pride traveled through her, as she didn’t hesitate. Had that pleased him? Ross’s words seemed to be caressing her body with a sensual, warm touch as they left his mouth. Each rule that he stipulated produced a throbbing deep in her core. Why was that?

  “If you fail to follow these rules, you will be subjected to any punishment that we see fit. You will have no say in the matter, Rebecca,” Ross said, his tone hardening. Becca recognized that he used her give
n name when instructing her or when he expressed disappointment in her. She would much rather have him use Becca when he addressed her. It already made her feel like she was being rewarded. The approval and intimacy that it referred to was comforting. “You were given two safe words. One is to be used between us in any given scene and it is my understanding that you used the most common among submissives. Please repeat it for me.”

  “Red.” Becca slipped her hand underneath the supple fabric of her right shoulder and watched as it slid down her arm. One breast was now exposed and it took every ounce of strength in Becca not to look at Ross to gauge his reaction to the sight. Were they too big or too small? Were her nipples to his liking? She wasn’t quite sure what his tastes were in regards to the size of a woman’s breasts.

  “Do I need to remind you of my title, Rebecca?”

  Becca’s heart skipped a beat at her mistake. “No…Sir. My safe word is red, Sir.”

  “Much better, Becca. And if you are uncertain or need an opportunity to compose yourself?”

  “Yellow, Sir.” Becca had answered him as she repeated her actions on her left side, but wasn’t quite sure she didn’t need a moment to compose herself at this moment. The weight of the fabric fell as gravity took over, and the material tumbled to the floor to lie at her feet.

  “Please repeat the safe word that Kennedy provided you that will end this contract.”

  “Monarch, Sir.”

  “Rebecca, where are your eyes?”

  The surprise of her given name made Becca realize she’d been staring at her dress on the ground instead of her hands. She’d been so caught up in answering him appropriately that she’d forgotten her first instruction—keeping her eyes on her hands. Becca immediately brought her eyes up to her hands only to find them clutched underneath her belly button.

  “Th–they were on my dress, Sir.”

  “And what did I tell you to keep your eyes focused on, Rebecca?”

  “My hands, Sir.” Becca couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. Would he punish her? A stab of fear shot through her. She knew she couldn’t handle pain, yet she didn’t want to disappoint him. The warring emotions were almost too much to handle and she watched as her knuckles whitened against each other. Becca swore to herself that she’d do better in following his instructions. She didn’t want him to stop and take away these feelings that he’d stirred within her. “I’ll do better, Sir.”

  “You’ll be chastised a little later for your infraction, Rebecca. Right now, I’d like you to lower your hands to your sides.”

  Becca felt the stiffness in her knuckles as she loosened her grip. She brought her hands down to her sides, not taking her eyes off of them. Becca’s focus made her conscious of the fact she would have kept them tightly closed. She forced her hands to remain relaxed, feeling the pads of her fingertips brush against her thighs.

  “Now, I want you to look at your right shoulder.” Ross closed the distance between them, walking around so that he was standing directly behind her. She blinked rapidly, trying to resist the urge to look up at his face. “Tell me what you see.”

  “I–I’m not sure I understand, Sir.” Ross’s finger trailed from the curve of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm. “It’s my shoulder, Sir.”

  “Your shoulders are sensual cambers scattered with enticing freckles begging to be caressed.” Ross brought his hands underneath her mounds and cupped her breasts, lifting them up until she was spilling over his fingers. “Now tell me what you see.”

  Becca knew she could do better than just saying the word breasts. He wanted something more descriptive. Unfortunately, his touch was distracting her mind from searching for the correct adjectives. “My breasts in your hands are s–sensitive to your touch, Sir.”

  “I like knowing they are sensitive, Becca,” Ross said in a low voice that dripped like rich caramel over her senses. “I see beautifully formed swollen tits bound in creamy flesh. Your taut areolas are soft with miniscule bumps that tighten under the warmth of my touch. Your burgeoning nipples appear magnificent in their eagerness to feel the moisture of my tongue.”

  Becca gave a ragged sigh and struggled to inhale whatever oxygen might be left in the room. Ross seemed to have left none for her. Light perspiration now coated her skin. She’d never been so aware of her breasts before and was astonished to find that he’d instigated a deep ache within them. Ross hadn’t touched her nipples, but his words seemed to have triggered a pinch within them that wouldn’t dissipate.

  Ross gently released her breasts and brought his warm hands down to her cool stomach. It wasn’t as flat as Becca would have wanted it, and she mentally cringed at what she would say if he asked her to describe her abdomen. She wasn’t good at this game and wanted it over with, yet she’d never felt so aroused. It was if her body had awakened from a long winter’s sleep. How had Ms. Van Camp known this was what Becca had needed?

  “Please describe where my hands are, Rebecca.”

  “Oh, my stomach, Sir.”

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  “I–I’m not happy with that part of me, Sir.”

  “Then let’s change your view, shall we? I see porcelain skin that is soft to the touch while the slight swell speaks of your fertile health.” Ross stroked his thumb across her lower abdomen, which caused her muscles to contract as well as her pussy. “Your voluptuous curves lead into what an artist would see as perfection, lightly etching your lines to catch the blossoming of your hips. The only thing their artwork lacks is the ability to capture the grace with which you tilt them as you walk, framing your flower between them.”

  Becca watched as his hands dipped farther down, suspended right above her bare pussy. Her clit was enflamed, glowing a bright pink, and had been overly sensitive since she’d left the spa. The dampness growing inside her thighs was becoming alarming. If air could cause such a fiery reaction, Becca wasn’t sure she’d be able to cope with Ross’s touch. She was finding it hard not to lean back against his broad chest for support. Ross pulled his hands away and stepped back. She nearly collapsed in frustration.

  “Place your fingers inside your folds, Rebecca. Pull them apart and show me your pussy.”

  Becca had to lock her knees in place. Ross had stood behind her with his mouth close to her ear as he described parts of her body that she never would have considered erogenous. After listening to his words and seeing and feeling her body respond to him, Becca was on the verge of accepting his portrayal of her sensuality. But now, seeing her bare mound and being instructed to expose her pussy, Becca felt her vulnerability return in waves. In her mind, there wasn’t anything pretty about her pussy.

  Not wanting Ross to think she was hesitating, Becca slowly brought her hands around and slid an index finger into each fold. Much to her surprise, her newly waxed skin felt like slippery velvet.

  “Pull up and expose yourself to me.”

  Becca was surprised when her hands didn’t slip and she was able to separate her folds, exposing her engorged clit and drenched labia. Her juices flowed as if he had turned on a faucet. She would have been red with embarrassment at her condition if it weren’t for the state of flushed excitement she was now in. She kept her eyes glued to her pussy, not wanting to give Ross a reason to add to her earlier punishment. How was Ross going to describe what she was displaying as anything other than what it was? Becca had reservations that he would be able to do so without her fainting dead away.

  “You are easy to read, my dear Rebecca.”

  Ross walked around her, coming to stand in front of the mirror. He was blocking her view and Becca hesitated on where to look. Ross took the decision away from her when he slowly bent to one knee—directly in front of her bare pussy. He shifted so that she maintained her view. She was both mortified and set afire when he inhaled deeply.

  “Your smell is intoxicating. Moisture is flowing down your inner thighs and glistening like a beam of light shining down from a streetlight on a puddle gracing an empt
y street. Do you know what that tells me? It divulges your arousal at being put on display. Lane and I look forward to presenting you at the club among other places. A friend of ours is very good with rope. Maybe we should ask him to slip some twine in between your folds, similar to how you have your fingers, and make sure your pussy is open for viewing. I’d be profoundly honored to say that your cunt belongs to us both. Do you see what I see? Your pussy is open, revealing satiny pink skin and a flaming red clit that’s throbbing with the beat of your heart. Do you feel your clit pulsating?”

  Becca felt her pulse in her ears just like she did when she was about to have an orgasm, but couldn’t quite reach that point of release. If only Ross would touch her—just one touch would bring her the explosion she desperately sought. Becca couldn’t hold back the whimper of utter conquest that escaped her throat. Ross had done nothing but run his finger down her arm and express his appreciation for her body and he’d somehow taken her beyond anything she’d ever sexually experienced.

  “Do you now see what I see, Becca?”

  The heat of her name coming from his lips soaked into her skin. Yes, Becca saw herself as he pronounced—a sensual, beautiful woman. More importantly, she felt it. A sense of confidence washed over her, as if they had consummated their connection. She felt cherished.

  “Yes, Sir,” Becca whispered.

  “A man could get used to coming home this.”

  Becca couldn’t hold back her cry of surprise at hearing Lane’s voice from across the room. Her head swung up and her eyes caught his. She could see the intensity in his dark gaze and couldn’t help but make comparisons with his brother. Ross wasn’t what she would call laid-back, but he did have a sense of tranquility that Lane didn’t seem to possess. The muscle in his jawline tightened as he placed his briefcase on the floor and closed the door behind him.