Ross stood up. Becca winced when she realized she’d taken her eyes away from her pussy. She immediately corrected her mistake, but knew that Ross was well aware of her transgression. Instead of voicing his disappointment, he stepped away from her and walked across the room to where his brother stood. No, no, no, she thought, don’t walk away.
Becca strained to hear what was being said, but their voices were too low. Vowing not to take her eyes away from her pussy, she watched as her cream leaked out of her slit and continued to drip down the inside of her thigh and puddle on the polished oak floor. She wished they would stop conversing and finish what Ross had started. Becca still needed to come in the worse way. She would do better in listening to them in the future.
Becca breathed a sigh of relief when both men started toward her. She was finally going to get the orgasm her body had craved since setting eyes on the Ellison brothers. Neither said a word as Ross took up his stance next to the mirror and Lane started to walk around her. Did her looks please him as they did Ross? If so, why didn’t he touch her? She was surprised when he came to stand directly in front of her.
“Eyes on me, Rebecca.”
Becca’s throat constricted at the sound of her given name. She did as Lane instructed though, and brought her gaze up to his. Instead of seeing disappointment, she saw pure hunger radiating from his dark eyes. The muscle along his jawline was still constricted, causing a tiny tick to pulsate at the base.
“Did Ross go over everything to your satisfaction?”
“Oh, yes, Sir,” Becca whispered, although she wasn’t sure why. Lane was speaking at a normal level, but his intensity left her weak.
“Do you have any questions about the rules as Ross has laid them out?”
“No, Sir.”
Becca was starting to feel a little panic. Ross had told her everything she needed to know, so why was Lane going through this absurdity? Why couldn’t they just get to the reward she felt she had earned? She understood everything now and not only was her body ready for relief, but her fingers itched to repay them. She would prove to them that Ms. Van Camp hadn’t made a mistake in her placement.
“So you understand that your previous hesitation in following orders and your inability to keep your eyes focused on what Ross instructed you to needs to be dealt with, correct?”
Becca couldn’t breathe. She also couldn’t tear her gaze away from Lane. For one, he’d ordered her to maintain eye contact with him. Second, it was as if he’d trapped her soul within those brown eyes and she didn’t want to miss a chance to read some hint of compassion she feared she’d not receive. He wouldn’t call Ms. Van Camp and tell her that they wanted another placement, would he? Ross had ratted her out, but hadn’t said anything other than she’d be disciplined for it. What would her punishment be? Could she talk Lane out of it? Images of whips and canes sailing through the air and landing on her ass filled her head. Could she take something like without using her safe word? Ross had mentioned that Lane had a small sadist streak running through him.
“Ross seems to have worked you into quite a state, Rebecca. The moisture leaking out of your pussy is most telling.”
Becca felt like she had whiplash at his switch of topics—from pain to pleasure. That was where he was leading this to, right? Maybe Ross had mentioned her weakness for pain. She’d be willing to have multiple orgasms in the name of punishment. Becca didn’t answer him, as Lane’s statement wasn’t a question. See? She’d prove to him that she was right for them. She’d never experienced anything quite like this and didn’t want it taken away because she couldn’t follow a simple order.
“You’re to go to your room, second door on your left down the hallway. Once you have prepared yourself for bed, you are to touch yourself until you are the verge of an orgasm and then stop. The only thing that may touch your skin after that are the sheets we have placed on your bed. You may then go to sleep.”
Becca bit her lip to keep from crying out. She knew why and could now kick herself. If she’d simply done as Ross had instructed, she might have had relief this night. Instead, she was being sent to bed completely sexually frustrated and alone. When Lane tilted his head in the direction in which she should head, Becca slowly released her folds. Having held them open that long, the pressure that was now against her clit made her ache worse. Not looking at Ross, Becca made her way across the room, trying not to think of her nudity.
“Rebecca.”
Becca stopped and turned around, unable to keep her face from flushing crimson as both men raked their gaze over her exposed flesh. She would have thought her previous exhibition in front of the mirror would have made her immune to blushing, but that didn’t seem to be the case. It was Lane who had called out to her, so Becca made eye contact with him.
“We’ll know if you come at any point tonight by how distended your clit is in the morning. And it had better be swollen.”
Lane’s warning rang out and Becca all but turned and ran for her room. No matter what, she wouldn’t come tonight. Becca was starting to think maybe a whip wouldn’t have been that bad if they had only permitted her to come. She found her room and once inside, closed the door and leaned up against the cool, hard wood. It did nothing to diminish the heat of Lane’s words or the warmth left on her body from Ross’s touch. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples contained twinges of pain from how tightly coiled they were, and her pussy felt as if it was twice its size. The throbbing deep inside was only getting worse, but at least they hadn’t sent her away. This was going to be a long night.
Chapter Eight
Becca stretched, feeling the cool satin sheets caress her bare skin. It wasn’t until she went to turn over that her clit reacted to the brush of the smooth fabric. She bit back a moan and brought up her knees in hopes a little pressure would relieve what now seemed to be a permanent ache. Becca had done what Lane had ordered and could now see how this punishment served its purpose. She was never going to hesitate again.
“Good morning, Miss Schuler.”
“Oh!” Becca scrambled into a sitting position, all the while keeping a tight grip on the sheet. Grady was walking across the beige carpet of the bedroom as if it was normal thing to enter a naked woman’s room. Did he not realize that it was inappropriate? Unless Lane and Ross had ordered him to, in which case, Becca wasn’t sure exactly how to react. It didn’t seem to bother Grady in the least as he reach for the golden drapes that covered the window. Yanking the heavy material to the side, sunlight spilled into her room. Becca tried to regain some composure. “Mr. Grady, isn’t it?”
“Just Grady, Miss Schuler,” Grady replied. As he turned back toward her, Becca saw that he was carrying a cup with steaming liquid. Please let that be coffee, Becca thought. Grady took the few short steps that closed the distance to her nightstand and placed the fine china on the dark wood surface. “You’ll find the dresser and closet are occupied by clothes that Masters Ellison chose for you. They are waiting for you to join them for breakfast. If you shall need anything during the day, please feel free to seek me out.”
Before Becca could say thank you or ask questions in regards to her clothing, especially if there were any undergarments, Grady drifted out the door as quietly as he had entered. She tilted her head, listening for any sounds that he might return. When she heard nothing but silence, Becca let the sheet drop and slipped out of bed with a low moan as the throbbing in her pussy returned. Would her punishment be over with today or would they extend it?
Needing to pee but wanting to see the clothes that Lane and Ross had chosen for her more, Becca made her way over to the armoire. The dark wood was outlined with carved swirls deeply ingrained, giving it an older look. Becca wondered if it was a modern reproduction or if it was an actual antique. Pulling on the round brass-and-ivory knobs, she swung the doors open. She couldn’t prevent her mouth from doing the same.
There had to be at least twenty dresses, all various colors, textures, and styles. The bottom shelf contained matching
shoes and sandals that would adorn her feet. She wiggles her toes and sank them into the plush carpet, wondering if Lane and Ross had really been the ones to choose them. Becca had her doubts, since she’d never met a man all that interested in what a woman wore. More often it was what she didn’t wear. They were more concerned with how fast the clothes could be removed.
A pang in her bladder reminded Becca that she’d better get moving, but couldn’t prevent herself from going over to the dresser. Pulling open a drawer, Becca found a couple of T-shirts and jeans. It was so in contrast to what the armoire contained that Becca wondered if they were for her. She opened the rest of the drawers, seeking out panties and bras. A part of her knew she wouldn’t find them. Becca could feel moisture leak out of her pussy at the thought of wearing another dress without panties and briefly wondered what she was going to do when she needed to sit down during the day. She’d be mortified to find she left a stain on any of their furniture.
Becca’s bladder couldn’t wait any longer, so she slammed the drawers in frustration. Before heading into the bathroom, she swiped the coffee from the nightstand. The cup felt delicate in her hand and Becca found she missed her favorite sturdy Starbucks mug. Scurrying across the carpet and then the bathroom tile, she placed the cup on the marble countertop and sat down on the toilet. Even the chill of the seat couldn’t take away from the heat that now seemed to be a permanent fixture of her pussy. No matter what happened today, she promised herself she would do what they asked. She wasn’t about to lose what she’d found.
* * * *
Lane looked over the rim of his coffee cup to see Becca standing a few steps away from the table. He loved the open living area of the great room, including where Grady had placed the table so that it overlooked the view of the city. What appeared even lovelier was Becca wearing the light-pink slip-on dress that hugged her curves as if the material had been cut just for her. He could see that she’d made use of the makeup they’d had delivered, and was pleased to see she’d taken a light touch in its application. The pale shade of lipstick that glistened over her full lips shimmered in the morning sunlight.
“Good morning,” Lane said, replacing his cup onto its saucer.
“Good morning, Sir,” Becca replied, her apprehension evident.
Lane felt his cock stirring at the uncertainty in her voice. It never failed to arouse him when a woman was unsure of what to say or how to act and then looked to him for direction. After Becca had turned in for the evening, Ross had gone over every detail of the time he’d shared with her. Lane was regretful that he’d missed out, especially when Ross described her first scene, but his business meeting couldn’t be rescheduled. This morning Ross was the one that had had to leave prior to Rebecca’s waking up. “I’m sorry Ross had to depart earlier. It’ll be just the two of us this morning.”
These two months were to be split into getting to know her and furthering her training. He and Ross had discussed her second scene, which would take place this evening, but he had the small task of verifying that she’d followed his orders last night. Once that was out of the way, Lane would spend the rest of the morning meal getting to know her.
“Rebecca, come to me and stand in the display position.”
Again, Becca’s trepidation set his blood afire and his cock was now throbbing in need. While she didn’t falter in her walk over to him, he was well aware she wasn’t quite sure what he meant. There were many different positions she would learn and he would enjoy teaching her every one of them. Lane waited until Becca was directly in front of him before relieving her of her anxiety.
“Feet shoulder width apart with a straight posture,” Lane instructed, tapping his fingers on her thigh. The dress Becca was wearing hung a few inches below her pussy, allowing him unhindered access to her. “Your fingers should be linked behind your neck. Chin up and your eyes straight ahead. The majority of the time, when we ask that you take this position, you will be naked.”
Various expressions crossed Becca’s face. Lane couldn’t bring himself to look away from her communicative green eyes, as they appeared to be the windows to her emotions. At first, a fire seemed to ignite within them at his instructions. By the time she was in position, looking out over the panoramic view, Becca’s cheeks had more color and there was uneasiness displayed in her eyes. Had she done what he’d requested last night?
Utilizing his full access to her now, Lane deliberately took his time in lifting her dress. Slipping his fingers underneath the supple fabric, he slowly raised the material up until her bare pussy was on full display. The cleft between her legs couldn’t hide her swollen red clit or the dampness of her slit. Her apparent willingness to please them overwhelmingly satisfied the Dominant raging inside of him. Becca’s sweet scent drifted up and he had to close his eyes at her delectable aroma.
“Very good, Becca. I’m pleased that you were able to follow orders.” Lane gently replaced the soft material over her thighs. He knew she probably expected him to touch her, or even go the extreme of giving her release, but Becca needed to be well aware of the disappointment she had generated by not obeying their first command. “Please, join me for breakfast.”
Lane thought he’d heard a small whimper come from her throat, but wasn’t sure as she’d already moved to take the seat across from him. He saw her look down at the chair before settling into the curve of the wood. Hiding a smile, Lane figured she was trying to figure out a way to not leave a wet mark in the center. He didn’t bother to tell her that the reason they had wooden chairs was that they were easier to wipe down.
Lane watched as she gathered some fruit that Grady had set out, along with a bagel and some cream cheese. He took a moment to savor her loveliness. The sun was hitting her strawberry-blonde hair in such a way that it appeared to be a lighter shade of her dress. The natural waves stopped inches below her shoulder, but had enough volume so that they appeared longer. The ends curled under, giving her an elegant appearance. He also noticed that her hands were shaking, and wondered if Ross’s scene last night had given her the confidence in her beauty that they sought to give her.
“If there is something not to your liking, Grady would be more than happy to fix something else.”
“No, Sir. This is fine.”
“We are no longer in a scene, Becca,” Lane said, reassuring her that once he’d dismissed her from her position, they were now simply partners within this unique relationship. “Please, call me Lane.”
“Um, where is Ross?” Becca asked, slipping a piece of watermelon into her mouth.
“He needed to meet with some of our analysts this morning,” Lane replied, knowing that if Becca were to be a part of their lives, she should know how dedicated they were to their business. “As you are aware, we run a hedge fund. It wasn’t easy, starting a business from scratch, but we now have billions of dollars under management and are very successful. In order to make sure our clients get the returns they require, it takes a lot of our time. We have an excellent staff, but Ross and I make sure that one of us is always available.”
Becca didn’t respond, but instead concentrated on her breakfast. Lane wasn’t sure if it was because she was shy or unsure of how to proceed after he’d viewed her pussy. Ross said he’d conveyed their need for an independent woman outside of the bedroom, but maybe he needed to reinforce that.
“Are you close with your parents?”
As Lane expected, that grabbed Becca’s attention. Her head snapped up and their eyes collided. For a brief moment, he wasn’t sure she was going to respond. She swallowed and he watched at the graceful way her neck moved as the melon glided down her throat.
“Yes. Mom and Dad live in Indiana, but I speak to them once a week. My father is a painter, but my mother is a stay-at-home wife and mother. My best friend had come to Chicago for a job and convinced me that there were more opportunities in the city than there were in the small town where we grew up.”
“I can’t say that I’m sorry you lost your job, as it
led you to Safeword LLC, but I do apologize that they didn’t see the value in your contribution to their company.”
“And how would you know that I was good at my job?”
“I don’t,” Lane replied, reaching for the carafe to pour her a cup of coffee. “But your written responses on the application, as well as your grades from your transcripts, tell me all I need to know. Your handwriting is very precise, which denotes that you pay attention to detail. Your 4.0 grade point average tells me that you’re an overachiever.”
“I didn’t finish college, though,” Becca said, almost as if she were arguing with his assessment. Lane could see they not only had to work on Becca’s view of her outer appearance, but also the confidence of her inner self. “They were just a few classes that I was able to afford.”
“Those few classes were toward a future education, were they not?” Lane asked, refilling his coffee as well. He replaced the carafe and picked up his cup. “If you had any career to choose from, what would it be?”
Becca’s fork halted inches from her mouth, which was now turned down into a frown. Had no one ever asked her these questions? Lane felt a simmer of anger at the past men in her life, with their little regard to her aspirations. If it were up to him, she’d never feel that her hopes and desires weren’t important.
“I really haven’t given it any thought,” Becca replied, laying her fork back down on her plate. “I was just taking some prerequisites. It’s not like I could afford college full-time. After our contract is up, I’ll start looking for another job.”
“Are you looking forward to that already?” Lane was able to convey that in a teasing manner, but he found he truly wanted an honest answer from her. “And what makes you think that once our contract has concluded, we won’t want a personal one drawn up between the three of us?”
“I didn’t mean to suggest I wasn’t—well—I guess what I meant was—”
The First Order [Safeword LLC 1] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 6