Breathless (The Game Series Book 3)

by Cara Dee

  The flashes of the city lights faded as River drove us out of DC, leaving the car in total darkness where I took all the advantage I could. Shay drew a shaky breath, and I deepened the kiss, coaxing his tongue out with my own. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to see how quickly we could get through this trip to the house.

  Bringing one of his hands to my chest, I silently told him to touch me, and he tentatively curved it over my shoulder.

  “I-I don’t wanna feel good,” he stammered.

  No, he did. But something was holding him back. Presumably the same part that felt he deserved punishment.

  “Sometimes a masochist has to do something he doesn’t like to get what he needs.” I nipped at his bottom lip.

  It felt wrong to play along with his delusions, but I had to be patient.

  “True, I guess,” he mumbled, fidgeting with the neckline of my tee. “So I gotta do this, kiss you and stuff, because otherwise, you won’t beat me?”

  Was he trying to justify his own enjoyment? It was as endearing as it was tragic.

  I couldn’t fucking wait to break down his barriers.

  “That’s right.” I stroked his cheek and kissed him gently, waiting for his reaction. Waiting for him to finish his reasoning with flawed logic. “First you have to feel good.”

  He swallowed. He still struggled with eye contact.

  The tension between us crackled, and I could taste how fragile his internal defenses were at times. I imagined a military squadron standing before him, but the front line wasn’t as tough as he wanted it to be. Some of the lines would be easier to push through than others.

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  I was already through one side of him, and he’d only fooled himself into thinking he didn’t have a submissive nature about him. The way his body responded to me told a different story. His speech and posture had changed drastically since he’d sat in front of River and me at the club.

  The next time I kissed Shay, there was less hesitation from him. He’d officially allowed himself a moment of pleasure by promising himself that he’d suffer later. It was sick, and I vowed to myself right then and there to be with him every step of the way. Fuck, consider me committed to ensuring his recovery, regardless if it was my place or not. I knew it wasn’t. He was a grown man; I should let him do whatever the fuck he wanted, including wreck himself.

  I just wouldn’t.

  Shay relaxed further and slid his tongue along mine, his hand dropping to my chest, then to my stomach. When he snuck it underneath my tee and let his fingers wander over the trail of hair below my belly button, I drew a ragged breath and felt a shudder course through me. I kissed him hungrily, throwing caution to the wind, and lowered my hand to his neck, close enough for my thumb to ghost over his throat.

  It was impossible to stop the assault of images of him writhing underneath me, taking my cock, while I choked him out. Or my hands around his throat while River railed his ass. Or River’s cock filling Shay’s throat while I applied pressure to his carotid arteries.

  “We’re going to use every inch of you,” I murmured huskily. “You’ll wear our marks for weeks.”

  His breathing stuttered, and he all but melted into me and locked his arm around my neck. Only his seat belt prevented him from closing the last distance, and I fucking loved sensing how that frustrated him.

  Almost there.

  We’d left the highway.

  While Shay buried his face against my neck and sucked on my flesh, I glanced forward and exchanged a heavy look in the rearview with River. Holy fuck, were we going to take this boy. My brother would see for himself soon. In a few minutes, we’d be at the house. Then I grabbed Shay’s jaw and met him in a passionate kiss before dropping my hand to his crotch.

  “Oh fuck,” he moaned.

  I rubbed his stiff cock through his jeans and squeezed his balls until he gasped sharply.

  I hummed and went to his nipples next, twisting them hard to gauge his reaction, and there was definitely a masochist in him. He groaned and kissed me forcefully. It spurred me on and turned my cock to granite. When I dug my fingers into his thigh, he whimpered and started panting. Pain brought him to life. What a beautiful fucking sight.

  I tightened my grip on Shay’s thigh and watched the pleasure play out across his gorgeous face. “We have a pain slut on our hands, brother.”

  River cursed quietly as he drove onto our private road.

  Shay rolled his hips, then winced in a way that made me stop. It wasn’t only pleasure written across his face; there was a discomfort that didn’t belong. He pleaded a soft “More” at the same time as he rubbed his temple.

  “Are you feeling all right?” I cupped his cheek.

  He closed his eyes and winced again. “Yeah, it’ll pass. I want more.”

  “Where does it hurt?”

  He blew out a breath. “My head and my stomach.”

  I furrowed my brow, immediately ready to cancel all plans for tonight.

  “It’ll pass,” he repeated, visibly frustrated.

  “Of course it will,” I replied. “But we’re not playing until it does.”

  The night was young. It wasn’t even midnight yet, and River and I were night owls. Who knew, maybe Shay would feel better in a couple hours.

  “Riv, change of plans,” I said. “We’re going to our place. I’m gonna let the Daddy in me take the wheel for a bit.”

  “Got it,” River chuckled.

  I touched Shay’s forehead. It didn’t feel hot, but he was a little clammy.

  He scowled at nothing. “Fuckin’ Daddy Doms. They’re the worst.”

  “We’re delightful,” I assured him.

  “No, you’re not,” he argued petulantly. “You’re always up in someone’s business.”

  I grinned, reckoning that part sucked for him. For the moment.

  “Fuck.” He sat forward and placed a hand over his stomach. “I better not be coming down with something.”

  It wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened if he was. In fact, the prospect had plenty of appeal. I imagined it would be easier to persuade him to stay with us. It would give River and me time to pummel our way through those defenses. Without having to resort to any fighting.

  The trees parted up ahead on the road, revealing our estate at the top of the hill. The lights were on in most windows on all three floors, some dimmed down, some bright, two red, and one UV purple.

  Since it was a weekend party, the tiki torches along the path that led to the front door were lit up too.

  I spotted a handful of people on the porch. It was a popular place for smaller groups to hang out after playtime.

  The carport was full, so River pulled to the side of it.

  “This was so not how I thought this evening would go,” Shay muttered.

  “Same here.” I opened the door and stepped out before extending a hand to him. “Sometimes you hope for a good burger and get served the best steak on the menu.”

  He grunted and ignored my hand as he jumped out. “I’m not the steak, so I guess that’s just your way of expressing how pleased you are to see me with a splitting headache and upset stomach.”

  “No, you’re the steak.” I placed a hand on his lower back and started walking in the direction of the house. “But yeah, also that other thing. With a bit of luck, you’ll be too ill to fight tomorrow—not to mention too weak to go home.”

  River laughed behind us.

  “There’s something wrong with you,” Shay told me.

  “I’ve never given a doctor the satisfaction of finding out,” I admitted. And I had no plans to change that. “We’re going up here.” I pointed toward the side of the big house. No need to walk through a loud club area when we could just pass the house and go straight to the cabins. “You’ve never been here, have you?”

  Shay shook his head and eyed the group of five or six people on the porch. “When you announced the first themed event last month for that Game thing you’re doing, I
wanted to join.”

  We’d had a fantastic turnout. Several couples in our community had joined us for a savage takedown event, appropriately named The Hunt. Predators had hunted down their prey one by one, and Riv and I had been mildly annoyed by the fact that we hadn’t been able to participate.

  Shay huffed. “Then someone told me about the vetting process, and I was out.”

  Absolutely. It’d been the reason my brother and I had stuck to being organizers and monitors. We didn’t have any partners we trusted to that extent. At the moment, we didn’t have any partners at all.

  River walked up beside me and squeezed my arm briefly, and I cocked my head at him. He nodded at Shay, then in the direction of the lawn in the back, and he wore a wry little smirk for me. I smirked back, ’cause fuck yeah, my change of plans earlier—about the event—was already paying off.

  “Maybe you can be here for the next Game,” I mentioned to Shay.

  “What’s the theme?” he asked.

  “We haven’t gone public with it yet, so you gotta keep it to yourself,” I told him.

  Once he’d agreed, River and I both observed him.

  “There’s gonna be a cage fight,” I said.

  His eyebrows flew up, and he flicked his gaze between Riv and me. “Shit, for real?”

  He was getting sick. As we passed a lit-up window on the ground floor of the house, I could see Shay’s pallor had changed.

  River cleared his throat. “We could use your help, kid.”

  “It would do you some good to become more active with us.” I raised my hand to Shay’s neck and rubbed it gently. “I guess the only problem is you might actually grow to care for the community. You might even make friends.”

  The boy rolled his eyes but didn’t seem to have the energy for much else. By then, we’d reached the corner of the house, and Shay came to a stop once the backyard became visible.

  It wasn’t as loud as it sometimes got, but there were plenty of people around. Colt and his Little stood by one of the grills and made hot dogs. They were accompanied by a few others, and I spotted Greer as he slung a joke to Colt’s boy, who laughed and glared playfully at him over his shoulder. It felt nice to have the boy, Kit, visit more often with Colt and Lucas. If I wasn’t mistaken, Kit and Shay knew each other somewhat.

  Half a dozen kinksters were in the pool. Most of them were fucking.

  “Daddy!” Kit hollered. To Luke, I assumed, as he left their cabin with a hoodie in his arms. “Colt says I have to go to bed soon. Tell him he’s mean!”

  I smiled.

  Luke stepped up on the deck. “Have you asked him to define soon? You know he loves to rile you up, little one. Try not to take the bait so easily.”

  River and I chuckled.

  I was happy for my friends. Colt and Lucas finding Kit had completed their dynamic. Together, they’d become frequent visitors here, and no longer just as monitors or buddies. They had a whole kink world to show their boy.

  I could admit, it was waking up a desire within me I thought hadn’t existed. I’d always been perfectly satisfied with my brother by my side and the casual partners we brought home. On the second floor of our cabin, which consisted of a bedroom and bathroom, we’d even added a spare bed for subbies to sleep in. A symbol that said we had our own thing, but we looked after the play partners and wanted them close.

  When I caught Shay swaying in place, I quickly hiked a hand under his arm and steadied him. “Sweetheart, you’re not feeling well. Come on.”

  For once, he didn’t argue. He looked queasy and let me guide him toward our cabin. It was the first one in the row of the A-frames, and on the outside, they all looked the same. But since River and I had turned our cabin into our permanent home, we had a more equipped—albeit small as shit—kitchen in the corner of the front room. We also had a proper bathroom upstairs. The others had half-baths under the stairs.

  As I stepped up on the little porch with Shay, River dug out his keys and went ahead to open the door.

  “I should get home,” Shay argued feebly. “I don’t belong here.”

  “Christ, the boy’s hallucinating already, Riv.”

  River snorted softly and let us enter first. “One thing you should know about my brother, Shay. He cracks jokes when he’s worried.”

  “Why are you giving away all our secrets?” I shot him a glare and ushered Shay inside. “Okay, grand tour. Kitchen here to the right, the rest is a living room, as you can see, and you’re going straight upstairs to get some rest. I’m gonna bring you some painkillers and water.”

  I wasn’t worried. To be honest, I hadn’t entertained the idea, and I rarely stopped to think about how I felt. Feelings got in the way of actions. One might say I was emotionally stunted—in some ways. I was still a born caregiver, though I considered it more of a natural instinct than anything else.

  “Who knew I could find log cabins half an hour outside of DC?” Shay mumbled. “Open fire, fur rug, and all things plaid and wood. If I see a reading nook in the window upstairs and twinkle lights in the ceiling, I’m going to suspect you’ve got a Pinterest obsession.”

  River found that hilarious.

  I did not.

  “It was Instagram, and Luke fucking showed it to me,” I said in my defense. The cabins were still new in comparison, only a few years old, and we’d built them ourselves. Well, not Luke. But Colt had definitely helped out, as had others with experience in handiwork and construction. “Anyway. Enough talking, little fighter. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  Shay offered a long-suffering sigh but did as told. We crossed the room, and he followed me up the narrow stairs.

  “Bathroom right here.” I pointed to the door to the right. The rest of the upstairs was an open space, with the subbie bed located conveniently close to the bathroom. It was a makeshift sofa, but all I had to do was remove the pillows. “This will be your bed.” I gave his shoulder a light squeeze before I cleared the little table at the short end of the bed. River sat here sometimes and read when I watched TV downstairs.

  Shay glanced over at the end of the room, where Riv and I had our own bed. There was no reading nook—or fucking twinkle lights—just a triangular window facing the yard, framed by two armoires. Two of the pieces left from our grandmother.

  If Shay wanted to watch TV, I could always angle the flat screen that sat on the dresser across from our bed. But right now, he seemed more interested in the fan in the tilted ceiling. Which reminded me… I walked over to the window and bent down to switch on our AC unit. When we weren’t home, we only kept the one downstairs running.

  While I was there, I opened a couple drawers in the dresser and grabbed a tee and a pair of boxer shorts for Shay to sleep in.

  “Am I really spending the night here?” Shay asked. “I bet it would take me less than ten minutes to catch a ride with someone at the house who’s heading back to the city.”

  “It wouldn’t even take you that long. We’re a helpful bunch. But, yes, you’re staying.” I handed him the change of sleepwear and opened the bathroom door. “There should be a few spare toothbrushes under the sink—towels too, if you wanna shower first.” Upon seeing the conflict in his eyes, I cupped his cheek and finally slowed my roll. I knew I could be too no-nonsense sometimes. “I understand you’re uncomfortable, Shay. Neither of us expected this to happen.” As I shifted my hand to his forehead, I thought he was getting warmer. I should take his temperature. “You can view us as strangers if you want, but we’d like to look after you until you’re on your feet again.”

  He lowered his gaze and took a step back, and I let my hand fall. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m going home tomorrow,” he replied quietly. “I have to get ready for the fight tomorrow night.”

  We’d see about that.

  While Shay ducked into the bathroom and closed the door, I returned downstairs and found River on the couch watching the news. But when I aimed for the kitchen, he put the TV on mute and followed me there. It was just
two counters which created a corner for me to cook—and for River to heat up his damn ramen cups—and then a round table in the middle where we ate. And negotiated with play partners.

  “You hungry?” I opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for Shay.

  “A little.” Riv leaned back against the sink. “You haven’t brought home strays since we were kids.”

  I snorted in amusement and dug out some toppings for sandwiches too. “I think we have a responsibility to help out.”

  “Even when they don’t want help?”

  “Especially then.” I gathered the fixings on the counter and found a loaf in the breadbox. “You know that the alternative is banning him. We can’t have a masochist running around requesting unsafe play with our other members.”

  He nodded with a dip of his chin and sat down at the table.

  I side-eyed him briefly before focusing on the food. I grabbed a knife from the magnetic strip on the wall and put the loaf on the cutting board. “Give me your take.”

  He drummed his fingertips against the tabletop. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate. Getting him out here was the plan all along. And going around specifically asking Sadists to beat him without knowing the reason makes it abundantly clear that there is a reason—a wrong one.” He shrugged slightly. “Impossible not to interpret that as a cry for help.”

  I agreed with him. I was sure Shay wouldn’t; he’d probably find a perfectly reasonable explanation, such as…asking the question to Sadists as a way to find the type who played unsafely. But without honesty and open communication, all play was unsafe. And we were no damn mind readers. If he wanted a beating—if he wanted to suffer a punishment—he just had to lie. It would require a few discussions and a mediocre poker face to get what he wanted. He could tell a Sadist he really liked a certain type of pain, when in reality, it was the pain that seared through him as the harshest penalty. Once the tears were streaming, it wasn’t always easy to tell one suffering apart from another, particularly if there was no sex or pleasure involved.

  As I started slicing cucumber and tomatoes, I heard the shower running upstairs.