Her buttocks were also shaking, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that. At least none of the men was behind her, watching the rippling of her flesh.
It soon became clear that Ethan was leading her to the stables.
For the first time since the rope had settled around her neck, she hesitated.
But the men were ahead of her, and less than a second later, the rope was taut.
She began moving forward again. “Excuse me,” she said. “Sir?”
Ethan glanced back but didn’t slow his pace. They were approaching the stables at an alarming rate.
“What’s going to happen in there?” she asked.
He didn’t look back again. The answer was clear: you’ll see soon enough.
Raphael opened a human-sized door beside an enormous sliding door almost as tall as the building itself. Maisie continued to follow.
As soon as all four of them were inside, Trent closed the door.
The unfamiliar aromas were pleasant enough: sawdust and wood, fresh hay that smelled like a meadow.
The mixture was sweet.
A black horse shoved its nose over the side of the stall door and nickered. Its eyes seemed enormous to Maisie.
Then she noticed that Raphael was nowhere in sight.
She was instantly on high alert.
A moment later, he came from around a corner. He was shirtless, but Maisie barely noticed his brawny, muscular chest.
Her attention was drawn to the three things he was carrying.
Two of them were black rods, each about two-and-a-half feet long with a stiff rectangular tongue at one end.
The third she recognized immediately. It was a whip.
One glance at the whip’s long, thin lash, and she was ripping the rope away from her neck.
“Hey,” Raphael said. “Grab her.”
But Maisie was free again. She kicked off her heels, and now she was sprinting, her breasts and ass jiggling.
She reached the end of the building.
Breathless and excited, she ducked into an open stall. The straw under her feet was clean at least, but the rough texture poked into her ankles and the soles of her feet.
There was no way out.
She turned.
Raphael was blocking the exit. His messy hair and wide shoulders would have been irresistible under any other circumstances.
At the moment, he was only carrying the whip.
“So,” he said in a low rumble. “I suppose this is the moment of truth.”
She shook her head.
“Either use your safe word, or resign yourself to the fact that this is going to happen. You’re cornered, Maisie. You can either service us as we demand…”
He shook out the whip, letting the lash dance in the air.
“…Or you can service us as we demand.” His sadistic smile was an instant aphrodisiac.
“I don’t hear her safe word.” Ethan stepped past Raphael. He was still dressed in his suit, which made him look quite out of place in the stables.
The same for Trent, who had also appeared.
They were each holding a rod.
“This is a riding crop,” Trent said, holding it up. “The rectangular bit on the end is called a popper. Crops are very useful when dealing with stubborn horses.”
Maisie licked her lips.
Trent smacked the crop into his palm. “Shouldn’t you be on your knees?”
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, and she dropped down.
She had never strained so hard to spread her knees as wide as possible. She looked up at him.
“That’s better,” he said. “I was starting to think you didn’t really want to play with this.”
“Play with what, sir?” she asked, her heart humming and her blood singing through her veins.
“Playing the little innocent cock tease until we ravage you.”
Wide-eyed, she blinked at him and tried to look confused. She liked where this was going.
“You seem surprised,” Raphael said. He flicked his wrist, and the whip lashed out to cleave the straw to her left. A whisper of air blew across her.
“Yes, sir,” she said, trembling.
“Maybe she wasn’t paying attention to you in the limo,” Trent said.
“I remember, sir. Mr. Lattimore said the three of you would put me to the test unless I worked hard to change your minds.” At the time, she’d thought it was just talk, something to get her blood racing.
She should have known. These men always followed through.
“Let’s make a deal,” Ethan said, and Maisie almost groaned.
Trent strode across the stall and tapped the crop’s popper under her chin. “Did I detect a bit of willfulness just now?” he asked.
“I’m sorry if I offended you, sir,” Maisie babbled. She knew better than to answer the question with a lie, and telling the truth would surely earn her a memorable introduction to the crop, the whip, or both.
Trent dragged the tip of the crop down her neck to stroke the vulnerable notch at her collarbone.
She moaned as he continued to her breasts.
He toyed with one of her nipples, which hardened nicely for him. Heat and wetness gathered between her legs.
He flicked his wrist, and the end of the crop slapped against her peak.
Maisie cried out, arching her back. Searing pain raced from her nipple right to her clit, which felt swollen and warm.
Another flick of his wrist, and her other nipple burned.
The crop trailed lower. Trent slapped the skin just below her navel several times. It wasn’t painful, but it gave her an idea of what was coming next.
She had her safe word. She could end this at any time…
He slapped her lower belly, her hips, her thighs. The crop’s barbaric exploration visited everywhere except the one place she most feared.
“Close your eyes,” Trent said softly.
She squeezed them shut, and that was even worse because now she didn’t know where the other two men were, or what they were doing.
A high, keening noise leaked from her throat.
“Quiet, now,” Trent said. “You know we’re going to hurt you, and we’re going to fuck you. The details don’t matter. Your job is to endure it.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want this. It’s too much.”
“I said quiet!”
The crop snapped against her sex, and Maisie cried out as sensual heat rushed to the sensitive spot. Her shout must have frightened some of the horses, because there was a general commotion in the nearby stalls.
“We can’t have her getting the animals worked up,” Raphael said. “Let’s take her into the hay barn. Lots of rope in there, too.”
“Please,” Maisie cried as Raphael jerked her to her feet.
She stumbled into his body, hard with thick muscle. A symmetrical dusting of hair covered his chest and arrowed lower. His clay-colored nipples bore the telltale scarring of having once been pierced.
Looking at his magnificent body set her heart to pounding wildly in her chest. Her inner thighs were wet from arousal.
“I’m sorry I ever doubted you, sir,” she said.
Someone grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back. It was Trent.
“We’re not doing this because of your jealous behavior at the office,” he said with a condescending little laugh. “Your new job is the punishment for that.”
“Why, then?” she asked.
Ethan leaned over her. The stiff side of his face seemed scary in the dim light.
“Because you’re naked,” he said. “Because you’re sexy, and there’s three of us. You want this. Tell us you don’t want it, Maisie. All games aside. Not as a submissive. As a woman. Tell us you don’t want this.”
His eyes seemed hard. They glittered.
“I want it,” she said in a little voice.
His mouth was inches from hers, his breath hot. “You want to pretend you’re being taken against your will?
I would prefer to show you just how much of a horny slut you are.”
Oh, she’d missed hearing him talk like that. “I’m not a slut!”
He flicked her nipple. “You’re our slut. Our submissive. You are whatever we want you to be. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Sir,” she added, realizing that the moment for speaking candidly had passed.
22
The hay barn was connected to the stalls via a small courtyard.
Raphael turned on the lights.
“Suspend her from the rafters,” he said.
He picked up a long, thick coil of rope and tossed one end high in the air. It sailed over a beam and dropped down the other side.
“Suspend me, sir?” she asked.
“Yes. You tried to run away twice. Now you will be restrained so that we can fuck you at our leisure.”
Trent was already looping the end of the rope around one of her upper thighs. She stared down in confusion as he worked.
Then Ethan jumped in to assist him.
Maisie couldn’t help giggling, because it was so weird to be in here, naked, with these men who looked like they were dressed to receive an award.
But their expressions, and the expert way they were trussing her up, like a prize calf… There was nothing refined about any of that.
Underneath their expensive suits, they were strong, horny men.
And like they’d said, she was a naked woman. They wanted to fuck her, to punish her, and they would.
She was now suspended a few inches above the ground, face-down, her arms bound behind her back.
The rope supported her chest, stomach, hips, and just above her knees, which were bent—her heels nearly touched her buttocks.
She could open and close her knees, she realized, but she didn’t dare move.
“Bring her up,” Ethan said.
They raised her into the air, the movement as easy as if they were using an established system, not something they’d rigged up on the fly.
Maisie was in such shock that at first she didn’t react at all. Then, she stopped breathing.
Relax, she told herself. They’ve done this before.
“I see you still love being tied up,” Trent said with a teasing grin. “Don’t worry. Soon, you’ll be used to it.”
“No,” she whispered.
Ethan grabbed her face with one hand, his fingers squeezing around her jaw. “What did you say? Did you tell me no?”
His dominance chased away her fear, and sexual need surged into its place.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said.
He looked at Trent. “This won’t do.”
Trent nodded in agreement.
“Well,” Ethan said, “I was going to give you the option of sucking our cocks here, or moving this into the city and restraining you on the rack.”
The rack.
It was the most frightening thing Maisie had ever seen, and her sole sexual goal was to avoid being at its mercy.
“But I’ve changed my mind. Your choices are to remain suspended here for fifteen minutes while we use your hot, naked little body. After which, we’ll deal you five lashes with the whip. What do you think of that?”
“I don’t understand what my choice is, sir,” she said.
Every word, every breath, made her swing slightly on those awful ropes. And the wooden beam overhead was creaking.
Ethan smiled. “Would you like us to whip you before or after?”
Both. “Neither, sir.”
“Fuck her, then whip her,” Raphael said, his muscled arms crossed over his chest. The dark edges of his tattoo poked out of the waistband of his jeans, but Maisie still couldn’t see what it was.
“Seconded,” Trent said. He unzipped his pants, and when he took out his thick, darkened erection, he no longer looked like a sophisticated businessman.
Maisie stared hungrily at his shaft as he guided her mouth toward it.
Ethan stepped behind her. He adjusted the ropes, and then her legs were opening for him.
He slid his cock into her heat at the same moment that Trent penetrated her mouth and throat, and Maisie shook all over.
They fucked her, letting the rope swing her back and forth. She wondered what Raphael was doing, what he was planning.
“Don’t bite me,” Trent said.
It was a strange warning, and if Maisie had been able to look around, she would have.
But then something seared her nipple, and she went rigid.
Now she understood.
Her bosses had elected to whip her while they fucked her.
And damn Raphael and his master control of that whip. At first she’d felt the biting, stinging heat, but a few seconds later, her entire body was in extreme agony.
She choked on Trent’s cock, and he was kind enough to ease up a tiny bit.
“This is better,” Raphael said. He stood with his arms apart, the whip’s lash trailing on the ground. “Whipping you while we fuck you.”
He worked her breasts for several minutes. Each flick was perfectly placed.
It felt… good. Awful, but good.
Soon her body was wrung out, her muscles exhausted. Raphael tossed aside the whip. He knelt beside her and traced a finger over the tender weals on her chest.
The bulge in his jeans pulsed, and Maisie cried out as Ethan slammed his hips harder against hers.
Squeezing one of her breasts, Raphael pulled her toward him, taking advantage of the rope system. His tongue licked her abused peak, then he sucked it into his mouth. He bit gently, but it was too much.
She gasped, and Trent pressed himself deeper into her mouth.
Raphael released her nipple.
“Let’s lower her,” Ethan said.
Was that Raphael’s zipper she was hearing? There was too much noise: the creaking of the rope and the beams, her bosses’ grunts, the roar of blood in her ears.
Trent stepped away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. “Why not lie down on a bale of hay?” he asked.
“Good idea.” Raphael dragged over a large, twine-bound chunk of hay. He positioned it underneath her.
Ethan remained inside her, his hands roaming possessively over her back, hips, ass, and legs.
Then the men adjusted the ropes, lifting her a little higher, and Raphael stretched out on top of the hay.
He stroked her throat, her breasts. One finger teased her clit, and she writhed in the restraints.
“Be still.” Ethan slapped her ass, then stepped back. Her pussy clenched desperately, wanting him to return.
Instead, her hips were positioned over Raphael’s waiting erection.
Trent and Ethan lowered her.
Groaning, Raphael slid into her slick channel. The ropes fell partially away, and she almost orgasmed as his muscular arms wrapped protectively around her.
“Kiss me,” he rasped.
As she did, Ethan pressed his cock against her pucker, and she whimpered into Raphael’s mouth as Ethan claimed his place with a long, slow thrust.
Her body was stretched and full even before Trent grabbed a handful of hair and forced her head up.
His cock angled into her mouth, and he held her head and fucked her hard.
Raphael groped her breasts. His earlier handiwork had left her skin sensitive.
She cried out.
A crop slapped against her buttocks. Her muscles squeezed reflexively, and Ethan throbbed inside her.
Even though she’d gone still, all three men continued their frenzied thrusting.
“Come!” Ethan growled. The crop struck her ass again.
She came, screaming, her eyes rolling back into her head. Raphael was squeezing her nipples while pushing up on her to give Trent easier access to her throat.
Everything hurt. She couldn’t believe she still had tears left to cry.
“Come!”
This time, when Ethan slapped her ass, her pussy got so slick and wet that Raphael moaned, “I can’t hold out.”
T
he men orgasmed within a few seconds of each other, filling her with their hot seed.
Maisie wished it could go on forever, but she knew she needed a break from her bosses’ physical demands. Happy, she grew limp in Raphael’s arms.
Trent carried her into the house, where the men bathed and dried her.
Ethan rubbed a calming lavender salve over the places where the whip had bitten her, and also over the areas where she’d been suspended by the ropes.
She was taken to a bedroom. It was rustic but cozy, and the bed seemed to have been carved from a single enormous tree. Other than the fireplace’s stone hearth and the burgundy sheets and pillows, pretty much everything in the room was wood, most of it dark.
Even the windows were covered in wooden slats.
Ethan laid her down on the sheets, kissed her forehead, and then left.
She couldn’t get comfortable. On her stomach or on her back, it was impossible to avoid distressing her punished skin.
“What about Ethan?” she asked as Trent and Raphael settled in on either side of her.
“We’ll take turns,” Raphael said.
“How can you sleep like that?” Maisie asked.
Trent’s cock was already hard, nudging into her buttocks. “Who needs sleep?”
But they did sleep. Eventually.
When Maisie woke, she was curled against Ethan’s right side. He had replaced Raphael, she remembered, though the other men weren’t currently in the room.
In the morning light, she could see the rough seams along Ethan’s jaw where the scar knitted into unblemished skin. It must have hurt when it was fresh.
She wanted to kiss him there, to trace the edge of his scar with her tongue.
He turned toward her and brushed his lips over her forehead.
“Good morning,” he said, and he gently freed his arm from underneath her. He was naked, and for the first time ever, she got to appreciate just how massive his carved chest and arms were.
She stared brazenly as he pulled on a robe and rubbed a hand through his dark blond hair.
“We’ve never spent the night with a submissive before,” he said.
He seemed a little surprised, and she concluded that sleeping in the same bed hadn’t been part of the original plan.
The door opened. Trent entered, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. His hair was damp.
Willful Violation (Lawyers Behaving Badly Book 3) Page 11