“Cigarette burns?”
Sarah pushed aside buried memories that began to drift to the surface. She refused to let them get in the way of this, to spoil the only place she considered her haven.
Dark intensity took over Jared’s face now, until both brothers eerily looked alike. “Answer the question, Sarah.”
Sarah. Not sub or little one. No nicknames. The way Damon easily pinpointed the injury also unnerved her. Like she suspected, Damon didn’t have a clean past. Did he live in a world of violence before he became the other half of Bentley Industries?
She knew the bare bones, the rumors and gossip from the club members. In the daylight world, Jared and Damon ran their group of companies with an iron fist. Jared specialized in some kind of internet thing—building algorithms, programs, and apps, and utilizing social media. Damon, meanwhile, preferred running a private security firm under the company’s main group. Other than that? Nothing.
Sarah realized, with a pang, she didn’t know much about either of them. Unlike the subs in the Lance, the last thing Sarah was interested in was their wealth. It bothered her immensely that she wanted—no, needed—to know the brothers outside of the club. For billionaires who ran a Fortune 500 company, they seemed down-to-earth. Did they enjoy the same things normal guys did?
“Sarah,” Jared repeated, yanking her back to reality.
“Yes.”
Damon’s hand dipped lower, hovering on the ragged lines of scars behind her left calf.
“Badly done knife play.”
Phrased more as a statement rather than a question, so why bother asking? Not her first time being asked about them. The tops she played with usually asked if the old injury would affect their play, but the way Damon and Jared asked felt different. Like earlier when they asked why doing a public scene with them was different from all the other times at the club. Sarah knew how most Doms saw her. They rarely bothered seeing through her age, compliance, and willingness to submit. All they were interested in was what she had to offer on the surface.
Damon and Jared, though, wanted something else. Complete surrender—something Sarah couldn’t give, especially after Michael.
“Damon, enough. Not tonight,” Jared commented, much to her relief.
Sarah needn’t worry because, after tonight, she would no longer be returning to the Lance. She ran out of her old life, moved in with James and Bobby because she no longer wanted to remain chained to a sadist who got off on hurting her for real for the debt she owed him. The last thing she needed was complications, and the first place Michael would look for her was a BDSM club.
Why did the thought of never seeing Damon and Jared unsettle her so much?
“Hush, it’s okay. We’ll take it easy for now,” Jared coaxed. He kissed the top her head. “We can see how this distresses you, which wasn’t our intention, but we will talk about this eventually. Understood?”
“Yes, okay.” Lying always came easy to her, but from Damon’s frown, she could tell he saw right through her.
Thank God Damon abandoned the uncomfortable show-and-tell and moved on. Damon pressed a thumb against the ring of silver through her clit hood, making her tense body squirm. He watched her with hooded eyes, increasing the pressure. Damon began stroking the swollen nub with his thumb while his other fingers pinched her labia, sending electricity through her soaking cunt and her tits.
“So responsive,” Jared murmured, beginning to play with her nipples. He pinched and tugged until the points hardened.
Sarah stifled a moan at the dual sensations. The reminder she was helpless, had to take whatever they wanted to do, aroused her more. Sarah thrust her pussy at Damon’s hand, swallowing when he pressed one large hand against her mound, keeping her flat against the bed.
Her stomach sank when Damon threw her a cold, disapproving look. God. Sarah had played with a number of Doms, but none of them possessed the ability to make her body truly yield and call to her deep-rooted submission. Reduce her to a highly strung violin, where she deeply felt each tug and reverberation.
“We lead the dance here, not you.” Damon glanced at Jared. “Those tits would look perfect with ornaments.”
Jared grinned, getting off the bed. Sarah turned her head, tracking his movements, but Damon tugged her clit ring.
“Eyes on me, sub.”
Damon lowered his head, flicking his wet tongue against her piercing, hands firmly securing her thighs on the mattress. Sarah pressed her lips together, but her breathy moan managed to slip out. Damon’s tongue mercilessly lashed back and forth over her engorged clit, his mouth moving lower, nibbling and sucking at her labia before stabbing into her folds.
“You can be as loud as you wish, little one,” Jared murmured, returning to the side of the bed. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair. On the other hand, chains clinked. Despite the riot of sensation Damon sent through her body, she tensed at the sound. Jared noticed. He cupped her chin. “Relax, Sarah.”
Jared showed her the toy he picked. Nipple clamps connected by a thin chain. Nothing dangerous. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed against Damon’s ministrations. Jared laid gentle kisses on both peaks, the gesture unsettling Sarah, before he attached the clips. The slight input of pain collided with the warmth of Damon’s mouth against her pussy, settling down to a perfect mix.
“If you come without permission, we’ll have to do this all over again. Understand, sub?” Jared warned.
On the verge of climax, Sarah felt herself nod. She groaned when Damon pulled back and reached over her belly. Sarah only then noticed the second piece of chain dangling between her clamps. She let out a protesting sound when she realized where it would fit.
“Hush, little one,” Jared said in soothing tones. He ran his fingers across the clamps, tugging slightly, making her gasp. “Take your punishment with grace.”
Sarah didn’t know what was it about Jared that made her want to obey, to want his approval so badly. Damon attached the clip to her clit ring. Sarah tried to keep herself still, but she felt the pressure pulling on her intimate places with each tiny movement.
“Very pretty,” Jared murmured. “Do you agree, brother?”
“Perfect to see her squirm with all her accessories attached. Flogger.”
Sarah tried to think and assess, but all logical thought fled with the slow burn spreading across her body from the clamps. All she could manage was to urge her body to remain still, but she had a hard time doing even that when both men began stroking her bound and tormented body like a beloved pet.
Jared handed Damon a dark-handled flogger with oiled black leather tips. Her pulse leaped in her throat when Jared struck it against his hand. Then he tapped it gently against her thigh, letting her feel the material. Not a high-intensity kind, but Sarah steeled herself for the first blow. Her breathing grew ragged. Damon teased her inner thighs and wet pussy, trailing the leather strips over the needy flesh. He seemed to be fascinated by her clit hood piercing and kept circling the strands back there.
“Please,” Sarah whispered. Damon’s gaze grew thoughtful. “Please, Sir.”
“Your lips look so tempting when you beg, little one.” Jared stole her attention again.
He fisted her hair and plundered her lips, this time dispensing with slow and easy. Jared kissed her like his brother did, rough, without finesse, and she opened her lips for his demanding tongue. The warmth and taste of him flooded down her throat.
Sarah vaguely heard the whistle in the air, and then the flogger hit her inner thigh. She clasped the leather cuffs, her moan muffled by the onslaught of Jared’s lips. A second later, Damon struck her again in a different position. She realized a second later that the instrument Damon picked didn’t hurt.
With each well-placed strike, Damon started a slow burn that spread through her thighs. Jared released her lips just as Damon aimed at her swollen pussy, her clit. Sarah jerked in her restraints, groaning. Jared cradled the back of her head to him, beginning to leave a trail of soft kis
ses down her neck. Jesus, both men drove her insane. Jared’s gentleness contrasted with the slap of Damon’s flogger. The pressure building inside Sarah nearly tipped over several times, but she remembered Jared’s warning.
Damon stopped, dispensing with the flogger. “I need to be inside her.” He turned to Sarah. “Yes, or no? Answer me honestly, Sarah. If this is too much, we’ll stop.”
“It’s not too much.” Sarah shook her head.
He walked to the drawer beside the bed, taking out something. Sarah heard the rip of a condom wrapper and saw his erection, standing long and thick. After Michael, Sarah didn’t think she could learn to like sexual intercourse again. Michael had reduced her to a mindless blow-up doll, buried all the passion and excitement that came with sex, but she craved—no, wanted—to feel Damon buried inside her.
A bad sign. She considered herself permanently fucked-up for needing BDSM after the hell she lived through. Sarah considered herself lucky for having James and Bobby to watch over her. She knew the difference between safe, sane, and consensual, and what Michael did. Stupidly assumed she could get her needs without pesky emotions getting in the way. One scene, one Dom. That had been her foolproof plan. Too late for that now, but Sarah would think about the consequences later.
Her sigh of relief turned to a gasp of discomfort when Jared fingered her clamped left nipple.
“This is going to hurt. Take a deep breath.”
Sarah obeyed. Jared took off the left, and blood came painfully surging back, amplified by the marks left by the flogger. Sarah gasped as he took off the right and finally the clip on her clit ring.
“Good girl,” Jared told her, tone fond.
The two words made her blush for some reason. He made her forget about the ache when he took her lips again. Sarah felt Damon releasing the restraints on her ankles and positioning himself between her legs. She practically thrust her pussy at him when he slid two fingers inside her. Damon chuckled.
“Be patient, sub. Unless you feel you need another set of punishments?”
“Answer him,” Jared told her, parting from her swollen lips.
“No, Master Damon. Please.”
“Please? What exactly are you begging my brother for, Sarah?” Jared asked, amused.
“Please, fuck me.”
“Since you asked so nicely, sub, we’ll comply,” Jared said.
“Jared will take your mouth while I claim your pussy. Any complaints?” Damon demanded.
Sarah’s gaze slipped to Jared’s shaft, wondering how it would taste between her lips, to wield the power to hear the powerful man groan, even though she remained bound. “No, Master Damon.”
“Thank you for this,” Jared told her.
He straddled her face with his knees on either side of her. Once his tip came within touching distance, Sarah licked at the pre-cum glistening there, tasting him. Realizing she had no permission, she stole a quick look at Jared.
“I’ll forgive you this time around, little sub.” He pressed his cock head against her lips, and Sarah opened her mouth to accommodate him.
This will be the only time. Refusing to let the thought sadden her, Sarah gagged at the size of him at first. He patiently waited for her to adjust, and once she did, Sarah took his length in her smoothly, applying suction with every inch.
“Jesus, you’re good at this.” Jared hummed above her, eventually taking control.
Damon lifted her legs on his shoulders and entered her in one sudden stroke, burying himself into her hilt deep. Jared pulled out, letting her full-throated groan spill through the room.
“Now that’s a lovely sound,” Jared remarked. “Do you feel Damon inside you?”
Sarah did. Damon filled her up completely, spearing her, branding her. Each slick muscle inside her accepted him, clamping on his steel-hard length tightly. So different than when Michael used her, or when he loaned her to his friends for their use. Her body reacted on instinct, pushing them out, fighting tooth and nail until they had to force their way in.
“Sarah.” Jared said her name, tone unreadable, pulling her back to reality. “Where did you go?” When she couldn’t answer him, he continued, “don’t let your mind wander. Stay with us.”
Sarah’s cheeks burned. “I’m so sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean—”
She couldn’t continue. Damon began to move, strokes fast and deep, his fingers deliciously digging into the flesh of her hips.
“Hush, little one. Let our bodies do the talking.” Jared got off her, settling his large frame to her side.
To her shame, tears prickled in the corners of her eyes. I can’t cry. I can’t. Her body refused to listen. Sarah’s vision became a blur of tears. Why did possessive but caring Doms like Damon and Jared have to enter her life right after Michael ruined her?
Damon slowed, but he didn’t stop.
“I didn’t want to spoil this,” Sarah whispered, shocked when he leaned over to kiss her tears away.
“You haven’t. How long has it been for you, little one?” Jared asked gently.
Too long. Sarah’s mind blanked when Damon shifted angle and hit her sweet spot. A gasp tore out of her, growing louder, uncontained as he aimed at the spot repeatedly.
“Come now.”
Damon’s tone brooked no arguments. He reached for her clit ring. Damon tugged, igniting her climax, sending a torrent of sensations through her. Sarah’s entire body shuddered as waves of pleasure began to drown her. Vaguely, she heard Damon growl after a few more thrusts, his own orgasm triggered.
“Will you let me inside you as well, little one?” Jared asked, stroking the curve of her breasts, her belly.
“Yes, please,” Sarah murmured.
Damon quickly cleaned her up. Jared slipped on a condom. Damon undid her wrist restraints, kissing the indentations left by the leather, before taking her lips.
“My brother wants to take you on your knees. Yes?”
“Yes, but you have to help me into position,” Sarah murmured, feeling languid.
He let out a rumbling laugh. Damon handled her with a gentleness she didn’t expect, flipping her, placing a pillow under her belly for support. Damon sat crossed-legged in front of her, letting her use his thigh as a pillow. He stroked her hair, talking to her softly. What he said didn’t matter. Sarah nuzzled her head against his leg, feeling content, yet her body eagerly awaited Jared to take her, too.
Jared spread her legs wider, fingering her, teasing her, but Sarah was wet and ready for him. Satisfied, he nudged several inches in, going slow until his balls slapped against her pussy. She moaned into Damon’s thigh.
“I think our little sub wants you to ride her hard, Jared,” Damon remarked. He tightened his fingers into her hair.
Sarah mewled in agreement, whimpered when Jared clutched at her hips and began driving into her, fast and hard. It didn’t take long for him to explode. His fingers dug into her flesh, joining the tiny half-crescent marks left by his brother. Sarah’s legs gave out under her as Jared pulled out.
Damon tugged her close. She happily snuggled next to him, feeling Jared join them after cleaning both of them up. Her thighs and pussy still ached from the flogger, and Sarah looked forward to seeing the marks, the souvenirs they left behind, come morning. She would be sad to see them go. Both men took turns stroking her, coaxing satisfied sounds from her. Sarah couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever held her like this without any agenda.
Michael’s version of aftercare had been warped. He’d often leave her broken body hanging in his playroom, sometimes forgetting to take her down. When he did, he’d pretend to fuss over her in bed while an expensively paid private doctor Michael bribed to keep quiet would check over her injuries. Trips to the hospital emergency rooms were unavoidable, but Michael had impressive connections.
“Sarah, you have a faraway look in your eyes again,” Damon said in a disapproving voice.
Spooning his huge body behind her, Jared tightened his grip around her waist, nuzzling her neck
and making it hard to think. “Are you thinking about him?” Jared asked.
“Yes and no,” Sarah admitted.
“Thank you for being honest,” Jared murmured against her. “Just relax, little one. We’ll deal with the questions the next time we meet.”
“It’s almost club closing time, though, isn’t it?” Sarah asked sleepily.
Besides, Bobby and James probably waited for her downstairs. Ever since she moved in with them, they never let her out of their sight. She felt too languid, lazy, to move, and she loathed to extract herself from the tangle of limbs and bodies. Once she left this room and the doors of the Lance, the spell would break. In front of her, Damon cupped her cheek, making her blink.
“You forget we’re two of the owners.” He took her hands and tucked them against his chest.
Underneath the hard muscles of his pecs, Sarah felt his heart beating a steady rhythm. Taking their advice, Sarah let herself sleep. Back at Bobby and James’ apartment, the two men sometimes let her snuggle between them in bed like a little girl terrified of her nightmares. This time, though, Sarah fell into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.
Chapter Four
“Thank you, Mr. Gibbs, but I’m afraid I no longer require your services,” Michael Rivers coldly told the private investigator on the other end.
His hand shook after slamming the receiver down on the desk in his private office. Michael gnashed his teeth together at another failed venture. Another wad of cash flushed down the toilet, but he had plenty of that in abundance. How could so many investigators be so ineffective?
Michael prided himself on being a perfectionist. Failure was something he hated and couldn’t tolerate, especially when it came to his property. Michael had always been selfish and possessive of his toys ever since he was a child, and he freely admitted his temper always got the best of him.
“Incompetent fools,” he muttered.
A series of clicks on his laptop opened up his favorite video of his young and beautiful wife. Sarah was usually a quiet little thing, but when she became loud, she screamed quite prettily. To say Michael missed having her around was an understatement. The estate seemed incredibly lonely without her, empty without the careful patter of her feet, or the symphony of her little cries to echo through the corridors.
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