by Zoey Marcel
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He jerked her chin up so she had to look at him. “Don’t give me that. You owe us the explanation of the century. I gave up my fucking sub for you and you’re flirting and having flings behind my back.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong. We were just talking.” His words suddenly registered to her. “You gave up your sub for me?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“Why the hell do you think? I still work with submissives at the club, but I gave up my personal sub. You’re the only one I’m going to be fucking from now on. And guess what, sweetheart? We’re the only ones you’re going to bed with from now on.” Brad began to unbutton the front of her pajama shirt.
“What are you doing?” Her stomach flip-flopped with anticipation, but her hand reached up to hinder his, fearing his dominant nature would come out.
Brad stared her down, voice a quiet warning. “Put your hand down, Chanel.”
Chanel obeyed, skin tingling with the excitement of knowing she would be touched by him.
“You’re going to tell us about what happened in Vegas and why you’re so petrified of BDSM.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” Her nipples elongated and pointed toward him as her body became giddy with need when he pushed the sleeves down her arms.
“Don’t start with me.” He yanked her pajama pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, letting them pool around her ankles. “Step out of them.”
She did as he commanded, utterly aroused by the jurisdiction in his tone.
“Why are you scared shit of the lifestyle?”
“I’m not scared.”
“Is that a fact?”
She nodded, hoping her nervousness wouldn’t show and praying he didn’t turn all alpha male on her and try to dominate her.
“Then you won’t hold any objection to me binding your wrists and punishing you for misbehaving.” He folded his arms, eyes challenging her as though he expected her to run screaming in fear of him. “Because if you’ve got a problem with it I’d love to hear the reason behind it and I’m not going to bed until you divulge the truth. And guess what, babe, neither are you.”
Chanel swallowed down the lump in her throat. Maybe he would use cheap satin ties and spank her. She might be able to handle that. “That’s fine. You can tie me up. I don’t mind.”
Please don’t call my bluff.
“Good. Follow me. We turned our basement into a dungeon. I’ll discipline you in there.”
Her stomach turned, but she hid her fear as best as she could. “I can’t wait.”
His cold, menacing eyes laughed at her, but the smile was absent from his face. “You’re not afraid to submit to me and let us have our way with you? It’s a whole different animal when our hands are untied.”
Chanel didn’t doubt it and it scared the crap out of her. “Thrill me, Brad.”
“You’ll call me Master while we’re in there.”
Her heart slammed into her rib cage. This was too familiar for comfort and Lucius would kill Brad if he found out about this. “Fine.”
“Say it.”
“Master.” She was giving him too much power, but there was no need to panic. One round of complete surrender to his will couldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t like he was demanding a 24/7 Dom/sub relationship with her or enslaving her like Lucius had.
“Let’s go.” Brad turned and noticed Dawson standing in the doorway. “You can come with us if you like, but you don’t have to.”
Dawson’s face was unreadable at the moment. “I’ll come.”
The walk down to the basement seemed like a life sentence. They really had an impressive setup down there. There was so much BDSM furniture, hooks and attachments of every sort to live out pretty much any fantasy a person might entertain.
Cory tossed a pillow onto the floor. “Kneel on this. It’ll keep your knees nice and comfy while you’re being disciplined.”
Comfort while being punished for insubordination—that was a first. Chanel knelt on the pillow, trying not to gape when she saw Brad grab a riding crop and felt Dawson and Cory shackling her arms above her from the manacles which dangled overhead by a chain hooked into the ceiling. Cold metal ensnared her, threatening to reincarnate ancient demons lying dormant in her past.
“Are you comfortable?” Dawson whispered, his face still distant, though his voice bore a hint of his usual tender affection for her.
His sweetness renewed her strength. “Yes, thank you.”
He stepped back and Cory smiled down at her, caressing her face before backing off. Their treatment of her preceding her impending penalty perplexed her.
Lucius had never asked if she was comfortable while he disciplined her. He didn’t cast an amorous glance her way when he was pissed off at her. He came down on her hard and unrelenting until he was certain she’d learned her lesson, or his sadistic nature had been satiated.
Brad stroked her back gently. “Normally, I would use the crop all over your body, but since you’re pregnant I’m only going to use it on your ass this time. Any objections to that?”
“No.”
He lightly tapped her hiney with the riding crop. “What did I tell you to call me, Chanel?”
“Master.” The title made her cringe inside. She was afraid for them and for herself.
“If at any point you get scared or you feel like I’m pushing beyond your pain threshold, tell me and I’ll stop. All right?”
“Yes...Master.” She had the option to back out of a punishment? Lucius never gave her a way out. She simply had to endure whatever pain and humiliation he decided to give her until he was done.
“Do you know why I’m punishing you, Chanel?”
Her mind raced, but Chanel could hardly think straight, knowing she was in chains and outnumbered three to one by these men. They could do whatever they wanted to her. They could hurt her if they became so inclined. They could hurt her unborn baby. The possibility made her eyes sting, but she refused to let them see her cry. She knew they would never hurt her like Lucius had, but knowing they had the power to do so if they wanted to instilled raw terror in her.
“Because I talked to my mate?” She screamed when Brad smacked her ass with the riding crop, feeling the hot, wicked sting spread over her skin as the haunting memories gnawed at her, refusing to be shut out.
Cory appeared startled. “Jesus, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re trembling like crazy,” Brad informed her. “Do you want me to stop?”
“No.”
“What’s my title?”
She smothered a fearful whimper at the light swat on her fanny. “Master.”
“That’s better. And don’t call that bastard your mate ever again. We’re your mates. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.” She hated that he stood behind her and she could hear the anger in his voice but couldn’t see him.
“And I’m not punishing you for talking to him. You’re being punished for using us to start a family you had no intention of telling us about.”
She yipped with suffering and wild panic at the swift, nasty slap on her left butt cheek.
“You’re also being disciplined for sleeping with another man and for keeping secrets about your past from us. We don’t hold back with you or keep things from you. And you’re not going to do that with us anymore. Got it?”
Chanel’s strangled cry when he struck her right ass cheek this time did a terrible job of hiding the fact that tears were imminent. “Yes, Master.”
“Now, what happened in Vegas?”
“I...I can’t...I don’t...” She yelped, feeling her eyes well with wet, salty warmth when he thrashed her bottom twice more, igniting a vicious after burn that supplanted the ruthless sting which came before it.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want to talk about it. We’re going to talk about it. Now what happened?”
Moisture trickled down
her face. “Please don’t make me tell you.”
Brad answered her with a fierce slap on the underside of her tush, inciting a mangled scream. “Damn it, Chanel. There’s no future for us if you hold back with us like this. We won’t think less of you for any reason. All we want is the truth. Now quit hiding from us and tell us what you were doing in Vegas.”
The tears came faster and she sniffled. “I was looking for someone.”
“Him?”
“Yes.” Her eyes closed.
“What’s his name?” Cory asked.
“Lucius.”
“Do you have a history with him?” Brad sounded like he already knew the answer.
“Yes. He bit me against my will. Now you know what happened in Vegas, so quit harassing me about it.” Chanel choked on her sobs as Brad spanked her several times with the crop.
“I don’t like your tone, slave.”
Slave. He called her slave as Lucius had. Surely Brad didn’t think of her as...He wouldn’t require her to become...Chanel lost it as she tugged frantically against the manacles and shrieked like a lunatic while she wailed in fear. “Oh god, no! I won’t be your slave! Let me go! I don’t want this!”
Brad slapped her ass again and she screamed bloody murder. “Christ, woman, you sound like you’re being tortured to death. Calm down.”
A trickle of fluid ran down the underside of her ass and down the back of her thigh. “Oh my god, you made me bleed! You promised you wouldn’t hurt me! I thought you were different!”
Brad swiped his finger along her skin, walked around, and knelt in front of her. “Calm down, love. It’s just sweat. See? No blood. I didn’t tear the skin.”
“Were you expecting him to?” Dawson asked.
Her eyes closed and she mewled tearfully, becoming absorbed by Brad’s dark, caring gaze when she reopened them.
“Somebody fucked you up bad, didn’t they?”
“Please get me out of these chains,” she wept. “It’s too much.”
“I’ll let you out, Chanel, but I want the whole story first. Why were you looking for Lucius in Vegas?”
Chanel struggled against the manacles, screaming when he lightly touched her waist to still her. “Please don’t hurt my baby!”
Brad appeared shocked by her outburst and he cupped her face to steady her. “Chanel, stop!”
She sniffled, lower lip quivering as she became entrapped by his stare.
His hushed tone was filled with the sincerity and consolation she hungered for. “I would never hurt you or our baby. You have my word on that. All right?”
She nodded, stiffening when she felt his finger lower to brush the sensitive underside of her breast.
“Shh,” Brad lulled as he placed his other hand on the small of her back to hold her still while he let his fingers trail along her tummy. “That’s it. Just trust me.”
She tried to relax, reminding herself that he was a good person who loved her and their unborn baby.
“I know you’re scared and vulnerable right now,” he murmured, “but you know I’m crazy about you. We all are. They say love is like giving someone a loaded gun and trusting them not to pull the trigger. I want you to trust me like that. I would never pull the trigger, baby. I care too much. We all do.”
Chanel heaved a sigh, feeling a burden lift from her shoulders, though being fettered was still an unpleasant reminder of darker days.
“I’m going to let you out, but I want your word that you’ll tell us the rest of the story.”
“I promise.”
He studied her for a minute. “No more lies, Chanel.”
“No more lies.”
“If you go back on your word I’m going to chain you up again until I get the truth from you.”
“You won’t have to.” Her body trembled with the letdown of post adrenaline when Brad released her confined wrists.
“Why did you go to Vegas looking for Lucius?” Cory asked.
She hesitated before finally answering him. “I went there to kill him.”
They all looked stunned by her confession and she really couldn’t blame them. She figured she’d best explain herself before they supposed her to be a homicidal maniac. “It’s not what you think. I had a good reason.”
“Well, I’d love to hear it.” Brad folded his arms expectantly.
Chanel broke down and wept. “He killed my baby.”
Now the men appeared even more shocked.
“Your what?” Brad blinked like he didn’t imagine he’d heard her right.
Cory gasped loudly. “Oh my god, I knew it! I mean, I didn’t know it, but I should’ve. That baby outfit in your dresser drawer—that belonged to a baby you once had?”
She nodded, feeling the torment of loss and betrayal all over again. “His name was Trevor.”
“Who would want to hurt a bitty little baby?” Dawson wanted to know.
“Lucius and I had a relationship, but I left him when I found out he was a werewolf,” she explained.
“Wait a minute. I thought he was a flippin’ bat,” said Cory.
“He can shift into both.”
“Is he a vampire?” Brad asked.
Her lips parted in surprise. “How did you know?”
“Some vampires are able to shift into wolves and bats. If the vampire has that ability it usually means they’re more dangerous.”
“Why did it bother you that he was a werewolf?” Cory asked.
“Because I saw him kill a man in cold blood while he was shifted. I was worried for the baby’s safety, so I left Lucius, but he found me. He handcuffed me to the bed and told me he was going to go back on his word not to hurt me and Trevor. He went into the other room and...” Streams of tears flowed from her eyes and Dawson handed her a tissue. “Thank you. I thought Lucius was going to kill him. I heard Trevor crying, but I couldn’t get to him. I fractured my wrist trying to break out of those handcuffs, but I couldn’t.”
Dawson knelt in front of her and brought her wrist to his lips to kiss it.
The affection moved her. He liked her again. He forgave her.
“Lucius came back into the bedroom and popped my wrist back into place. It hurt so bad I screamed, but he had already gagged me so no one could hear me. He must’ve used chloroform on me or something. When I opened my eyes again, he was gone and I wasn’t cuffed anymore. I ran into Trevor’s room and saw that he was alive and sleeping peacefully. I was so relieved and confused. I didn’t know what to think. I noticed he had two punctures on his neck, so I took him to the hospital, but he seemed fine. I just assumed Lucius drank some of his blood like he sometimes did with me.”
The men were gathered on the floor near her, listening intently and lavishing her with gentle touches and caring looks.
“Sometimes when I watched Trevor during the day I would get an eerie feeling I couldn’t explain. It was like I sensed some sort of evil presence that I couldn’t see. At night I heard a voice in his room. It sounded like a man’s voice. When I checked on him, I saw that he was awake and that the voice was coming from him. I was so scared.” Chanel shivered in terror over the horrifying memory. “I called a priest to have him exorcise the demon from my son. He tried, but Trevor killed him. Just before the priest died he told me that my son wasn’t possessed by a demon. He was the demon.”
Brad pulled her into his arms so she could cry on his shoulder while his brothers stroked her back and arms to soothe her.
“I was so scared. He never hurt me. He looked and acted just like my baby boy, but it wasn’t him.”
“What did you do?”
“I did some research about vampires since the priest told me he suspected the child to have been bitten by one. I finally had to face the reality that the little guy wasn’t my baby. My baby died when Lucius bit him and a demon took over his body. I was devastated. I wanted so badly to believe he would come back to me, but I finally had to admit he was really gone.” She buried her face in Brad’s shirt. “I took him outside into the
sunlight and set him in the grass. I hurried back inside before he could follow. He cried and called for me in Trevor’s voice and it broke my heart. But then he shrieked and his eyes turned another color and he burst into flames and disappeared.”
The men sat silently, holding her as she wept, trying to come to grips with her past.
“I killed my baby,” she wailed into Brad’s shirt.
Dawson rubbed her thigh. “Honey, no. You didn’t kill him. Lucius did.”
“I invited him in. Why did I invite him in? Trevor would still be alive if I hadn’t.”
“It’s not your fault,” Cory told her.
“I put him out in the sun.”
“Because you didn’t have a choice,” Dawson said firmly. “That wasn’t Trevor. It was a demon. You have to know that.”
“I know, but if I hadn’t left Lucius, Trevor wouldn’t have gotten killed. I’m the reason he’s dead.”
Brad pulled her away from him so he held her at arm’s length and they had eye contact. “No. You listen to me. What happened wasn’t your fault. You left to protect your son from a homicidal maniac. That’s exactly what you should’ve done. Don’t blame yourself for his crimes. That’s what he wants you to do.”
“I know,” Chanel sobbed, feeling consoled that he held her close again when she reached for him. “I just want him back. I miss him so much.”
Cory sounded concerned and jealous. “Lucius?”
“No. Trevor.”
Dawson’s fingers played delicately along her back and shoulders, evoking tenderness and a subtle awareness of her womanly needs.
“You’ll see him again someday,” he reassured her in a dulcet murmur.
“I know. That’s the only comfort I’ve had in all this, knowing that he’s at peace and loved in a better place. But I want him back.”
“If you wanted another baby, all you had to do was ask,” Brad told her gently as he played with her hair. “You didn’t have to poke holes in our condoms and keep your pregnancy a secret. We could’ve barebacked you and shared your joy when you got the positive test results.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re shape-shifters and I thought—”
“We wouldn’t hurt a baby or you,” Cory said firmly.
