“Sarah, for God’s sake, it’s us!” Ryan spoke urgently.
Sarah didn’t answer. She just kept struggling and trying to inflict more damage. Together they got her through the door, and Ryan kicked it shut. Sarah then went limp, either at the end of her strength or awaiting another opportunity. Warily, they laid her on the couch and backed away. Both looked like they had gone a couple of rounds with a wildcat. Sarah was disheveled, her hair streaming in disarray, her clothes mussed, and the look in her eyes echoed the one on her face. Alain looked both aroused and slightly intimidated. Ryan was in awe of her and rethinking their plan.
“Get the fuck out of my house, you bastards,” Sarah gritted. “Or I’ll call the police and have you charged.”
Alain smiled at her and advanced, his hand outstretched. Sarah launched herself at him and managed to slam her fist into his chin.
“Merde!” he shouted. “Stop it, little one, please.” He managed to wrap her up and subdue her.
“Fuck off!” Sarah spat at him.
Ryan spun and went looking for restraints. This was insane. Sarah had to calm down, or she was going to get hurt in her struggles. He held back a laugh. At this rate it would be he and Alain who would need a trip to the emergency room.
After looking in vain in the kitchen, he went into the bedroom. Success. He located several ties in the dresser in the bedroom and tested the headboard of the king-size bed. Grabbing a light throw from the chair, he shrugged off his jacket and returned to the living room, wincing at the pain in his wrist, which was swelling and turning blue and bleeding around the distinct bite mark. Alain was holding Sarah close, murmuring to her. She was still spitting epithets at him, but no longer struggling. She looked exhausted, still clearly feeling the aftereffects of the illness. Ryan’s heart hitched with worry.
He managed to wrap Sarah up in the throw, effectively immobilizing her, and lifted her from Alain, carrying her into the bedroom. She tensed up and snapped her teeth at him, but he easily avoided her effort and laid her on the bed, holding her still. Alain tied her wrists and ankles to the head and footboards, and they moved away, the adrenalin burned off. Sarah shut her eyes against them, and they left the room to consult.
“Fuck, Alain,” Ryan said, “Your face is a mess.”
“Those scratches on your cheek aren’t terribly attractive, either, mon ami,” Alain fired back.
They stood looking at one another for a few minutes and then dissolved into laughter. Probably not appropriate, and certainly not if Sarah heard them, but holy shit, their little woman had a side to her they had never seen before. It almost made them forget how this all had come to pass. Alain sobered first and went in search of a bathroom to clean up, while Ryan went out to shut the car door and pick up the groceries. The coffee cream had survived the ordeal, for which he was truly grateful. Sarah might cut them a bit of slack if she could have her coffee the way she loved it.
When Ryan came out of the bathroom after treating the scratches and bite with antiseptic and bandaging his wrist, Alain had a bag of ice on his nose, now swollen to twice its size. What a sorry pair. He had a large pair of kitchen shears at hand.
“I checked on her, and she’s sleeping,” Alain advised. “I wanted to wait for you before I cut her clothes off.”
Ryan hesitated. He wasn’t so sure they should follow through with the plan.
“Don’t wimp out on me now, Rye,” said Alain. “We need her helpless and dependent upon us. If we leave her any control, she’ll cut our balls off, maybe literally, and won’t listen to a thing we say. She’s submissive to us. This is just a temporary aberration.”
Ryan shrugged and accompanied Alain into the bedroom where Sarah slept, bound and spread. His cock jumped, and he lectured himself. This was about her, for her, and his needs and Alain’s came dead last. But oh, she looked so fuckable, and they had been without her for a while. Alain carefully pulled all the strands of hair away from Sarah’s face, smoothing it out on the pillow. His face spoke volumes about how he cared for her. He began to cut through the fabric of her coat, cutting along the seams where he could, and the fabric folded away from her body, allowing Ryan to tug it lose. Sarah stirred and awoke at the sensation, her eyes flying open and immediately filling with anger and something else he couldn’t read.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
Alain pressed a kiss to her forehead, careful not to incur further damage to his lip or nose. “Making you comfortable, little one,” he told her.
“Cutting off my only coat is making me comfortable?” she demanded, bitter sarcasm dripping off the words as she writhed against her bonds.
Ryan calmly explained to her, “We want to get your clothes off, but you clearly won’t cooperate, and we don’t want you to get hurt. We thought you didn’t know it was us when you fought, but you did, didn’t you, sweetheart? So we made it so you can’t fight us anymore.”
Sarah just glared at him. “Stop cutting my clothes off and get out. Maybe I’ll just let this go.”
“No can do, sweetheart,” Ryan answered. “We have lots to talk about, and we aren’t leaving until you accept our apology.”
Sarah sneered at him, “Yeah, right. So you found out it wasn’t me who fucked you over, and now I’m supposed to accept your apology and things will go back to where they were before you fucking tag-teamed me, you bastards! Not going to happen.” She set her mouth and fought tears.
Alain stroked her cheek. “Little one, none of us can live without the other, you know that. Somehow we have to make this right.” He jerked his finger back when Sarah’s teeth nearly clacked around it. “Merde!”
Ryan opened a dresser drawer and found another tie, this one a wide, dated, floral thing. Between them, they managed to gag Sarah. Neither was willing to risk losing a digit. Alain made short work of the rest of her clothes, pausing at the sight of men’s underwear on their darling, but snipping it off as well. Sarah lay naked and exposed to them and both rejoiced, albeit circumspectly, to note the signs of her arousal. Her nipples were beaded and moisture glistened on her labia. Her eyes remained tightly closed.
* * * *
Sarah raged inwardly. The bastards were going to seduce her. And her goddamn traitorous body was going to make it easy for them. This was just great. She would probably have several orgasms that would cloud her thinking and soften her resolve. No, that would only make her hate them more, she was sure. They would have to let her up at some point, and she would leave. After she killed them. The bastards. She refused to think of them by their names. Maybe that would keep her heart safe and the responses of her body at a distance. The soft weight of a blanket disoriented her for a moment, just as the gag was removed. Her eyes popped open to see the bedroom door closing. They had restrained her, stripped her, and were now leaving her. Christ, she was so going to get them for this.
Chapter Ten
Sarah awoke to the tantalizing smell of coffee and bacon. And toast. Oh God she had died and was in culinary heaven. She lay there, just inhaling, before she realized she couldn’t move her arms or legs, and memory flooded back. She slitted her eyes and saw Ryan standing beside the bed, his hands holding an overloaded tray.
“Little one?” Alain spoke from her other side. “Hungry?” he asked.
“I need the bathroom,” she snapped.
Alain sighed. “Okay, my sweet fille, but if you act up or try to run, I’m going to paddle you until you will have to lie on your stomach, and we’ll restrain you that way.”
Sarah stared at him mutinously, wondering how long she could hold it. “Fine.”
Alain immediately undid her bindings and rubbed her wrists and ankles. Sarah couldn’t resist pinching his ear but fell back when he turned his dominant face to her. She allowed him to help her out of bed and into the bathroom where she managed to slam and lock the door against him. She was shaky with both hunger and rage. She used the toilet and then stepped into a hot shower, using the bodywash and shampoo liberally. The stream
ing water cocooned her and gave the illusion of isolation and safety, until the authoritative rap on the door came. Reluctantly, she rinsed and stepped out, wrapping herself up in a huge bath sheet, but didn’t answer the knock.
“Sarah, your breakfast is getting cold.”
Fine. She would eat. She would need her energy against the bastards. Sarah emerged into the bedroom and was assailed by two sets of eyes full of sexual avarice. She fought the urge to retreat and instead stalked past Alain to sit on the froufrou chair beside the little desk where the breakfast tray sat. Ryan moved to help feed her, and she slapped his hand away, refusing to look at him. He sighed and moved back to sit on the bed. Alain growled, and she stabbed the fork in his direction.
“Back off, you bastard,” she threatened.
They sat in silence as she devoured crisp bacon on toast and inhaled her coffee. The meal was prepared just as she liked it, and she resisted the tiny warm feeling she got from their thoughtfulness. But when she finally looked at them, she couldn’t help but smile.
* * * *
Alain kept his poker face on and knew Ryan’s face was also blank when Sarah smiled so evilly and with such satisfaction. Alain now had one black eye to offset his swollen nose and split lip, while the scratches on Ryan’s face would make it hell to shave. Not to mention how carrying that tray must have made his bruised wrist pain. He reminded himself that it was Sarah’s right to lash out against them, and he tried hard not to want to upend her over his lap and smack her ass.
He pushed up and strode to Sarah. “If you are quite finished, little one, we have much to discuss.”
He caught the coffee cup just before she threw it at him and pulled the fork from her hand. He sighed but secretly enjoyed her defiance. Sarah would soon fall back into their lifestyle, as surely she knew the penalty for such behaviour when he had clearly warned her. Not that she had ever shown such temper before. A little annoyance and challenge perhaps, but not this animosity. Alain hauled her off the chair and carried her back to the bed, looking to Ryan to pull the towel from her. He sat and laid her over his thighs, her feet falling to the floor and her shoulders and head resting on Ryan’s lap. Ryan fisted his hand in her hair, a little anxious about the proximity of her teeth to his important parts.
“Solomon.”
Both men froze. Sarah had never used her safe word. Shit.
Alain said cautiously, “Are you using your safe word, Sarah?”
“Are you also having a problem hearing, on top of your arrogance?” she replied.
They released her, and she slid from their laps, going to the closet and pulling out a large silk robe. It enveloped her, and she wrapped the tie around her twice before securing it.
“Get out,” she said in a flat tone, her eyes glittering with unshed tears, her bottom lip trembling. “Go.”
For the first time in his life, Alain went against his training. He was actually going to disregard a woman’s safe word. Ryan was there ahead of him.
“We aren’t going anywhere, Sarah, until we have had a chance to talk this out. And you aren’t going anywhere either,” Ryan quickly added, forestalling her obvious response.
Sarah covered her face with her hands and sobbed. She didn’t resist when they both moved to hug her to them, surrounding her with their hardness and warmth. Nor did she struggle when Alain lifted her and sat back down on the bed, kissing her forehead and holding her to him. Ryan pressed against her back and wrapped his arms around her waist. They stayed like that until her sobs dwindled and she could cry no more tears. Sarah extricated herself from their hold and went into the bathroom, where she washed her face and pulled her hair into a ponytail. She came out to face them with squared shoulders and resolve on her face.
“I don’t think there is anything left to say,” she announced, holding her hand up to stifle their immediate response. “I think that you want things to go back to the way they were, now that you know I didn’t sell you out. But relationships are based on trust, so where does that leave you?”
Alain shook his head. “If we could turn back time to that day when we treated you so unforgivably, we would, Sarah. And we know an apology doesn’t, how do you say, cut it. But we have always expressed our deepest feelings for you sexually, and that day was no exception. Sarah, we took you to our bed. We didn’t greet you at the door and throw you out.”
Ryan cut in, “We were incensed and acted out. No excuse. Except that even when we allowed ourselves to consider it was you who had leaked the information to Horizons, both of us had come to our senses right after we, well, after we…”
“What? What, Ryan?” she asked. “Fucked me with uncaring, cold faces? Fucked me like a thing, as a punishment? Walked away from me without a backward glance?”
Sarah obviously fought more tears but continued, “How can you ask me to forgive you for that? I loved you with everything I had. Even if you thought the evidence that I’d screwed you over was overwhelming, how could you treat me like that?”
“Because that’s what dominant men do when they believe the woman they love more than life itself was actually someone they didn’t know, even for an instant, but couldn’t put her away from them,” Alain quietly said to her.
Sarah stood, silently, perhaps trying to absorb the stark reality of Alain’s statement. She looked at them both. “I guess I made a mistake then, when I thought it was two dominant men I wanted, and came to love. Fool me once, shame on you, but not twice. I won’t be humiliated and shamed again.”
Ryan nodded. “You won’t be, Sarah, and we won’t accept that you don’t care about us anymore. We are going to stay here with you and make it right.”
“You are such an ass, Ryan. Of course I still care for you both. Why else would I be such a freaking mess? But you aren’t going to get the chance to use that against me ever again. And you can’t keep me here with you against my will.”
Alain and Ryan morphed as one into two large, determined men.
“Bet me,” they said in unison.
Chapter Eleven
“Give me the damn phone, Alain,” Sarah insisted. “You can’t keep me incognito like this!”
Alain shook his head. “We are the only ones you need to talk to, Sarah.”
“Then you’ll have a long wait.”
Sarah flounced away toward the kitchen, hoping to use the landline there, but she was forestalled by Ryan. The two men seemed to read her mind and were intent on keeping her focused only on them. She was never left alone and given the opportunity to grab a phone or even use her computer without scrutiny. With the exception of taking her arm or pressing a kiss to her forehead at night, neither man touched her, although their hot looks and stares got under her skin. She was intensely aware of their erections poking against her all night, and her body, conditioned as it had been by them and their demands, reached out even as her brain fought against them. Sarah tried to sleep in the guest room or on the couch but was borne to bed to sleep between them, the bedroom door locked and the key hung around Ryan’s neck.
They cooked her favorite meals for her. They wouldn’t allow her to clean. They took care of her every need. They wheedled her involvement with countless games of Crib, Scrabble, Monopoly and every other game under the sun. Sarah found her resolve weakening with every normal, daily activity she saw them involved in and was totally aware of their focus on her. She had cobbled some strange outfits together from George’s closet and dresser, for aside from buying her some feminine supplies along with more groceries, they didn’t provide her with any clothing. At the end of her vacation time, Sarah announced that she was going back to work, only to be advised that they had arranged a leave of absence for her.
This set her off again, her temper exploding in frustration. Sarah refrained from striking them. The primitive satisfaction she took from the injuries she visited on them that day they had kidnapped her had long since withered to quiet shame and the wish that she hadn’t expended such terrible energy on them. However, she harangued
them about her job and demanded they allow her to get back to work. She was met with two implacable wills and an unspoken compromise. If she would communicate with them, accept them, take them back, reestablish the relationship, then life would go back to the way it was.
Sarah somehow found the resolve to resist them. Their very presence threatened her heart. She couldn’t allow them to hurt her again. She wouldn’t survive. She was convinced that she had become so ill because she had not wanted to live without them and their power over her no longer felt safe. She hung on and hardened her heart against them, never letting them see what it cost her.
That night their patience came to an end, or at least the part of their campaign to woo her and gentle her was over. Sarah had stomped into the bedroom, attired in George’s underwear and a T-shirt, still furious about the high-handed leave of absence they’d arranged, intending on falling asleep before they came to bed. Alain was on her in a flash, pulling the shirt up and off and restraining her, belly down, spread-eagled, to the four bedposts. He smiled at her as he ripped a strip from the shirt and knelt to blindfold her.
“You need some stress relief tonight, little one,” he crooned in her ear.
Sarah sputtered, alert to the missing Ryan. She smelled him before she heard him, his scent reminding her of better times, and she felt the bed dip beside her. He kissed her forehead gently, and she wished, just for a moment, that he would stop treating her so kindly. Then she got herself back under control.
“Leave me alone,” she muttered.
“Nope,” answered Ryan.
She felt something warm drip across her back and then a pair of hands began to work the massage oil into her tight shoulders and neck, smoothing up and down her arms, then her spine. It felt wonderful, and she tried to tense against it. Someone, probably Alain, began to oil the soles of her feet, pressing with his thumbs, eliciting grunts of enjoyment that Sarah was powerless to stop. They worked on her, each slowly moving toward the other, Ryan now at her ribs and waist, Alain massaging up her ankles and calves. Despite herself, Sarah was becoming boneless. She thought it was Ryan who pulled the underwear into a thong in order to massage her buttocks and hips and Alain’s strong hands that kneaded her thighs. Her pussy was covered by fabric, fabric that was now wet with her arousal and awaiting their touch. She could only feel. Neither man slipped a hand down to her sex, and Sarah released the breath she didn’t even know she was holding in a huff of frustration.
Young, Allyson - Forgiveness (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 5