Get Off Easy

by Sara Brookes

  Another click sounded, and now both toys were moving at the same pace.

  “So beautiful, strapped down, taking my fucking machine.” That explained the near-perfect rhythmic movements. A heavy weight settled against her back, pushing her against the floor. Saint’s breath sounded next to her ear. “Your only job is to let your mind go, angel. To let my fucking machine take you over. I’ve got you, just remember that. Even when I’m gone.”

  Something soft cupped over her ears and the openings strains of Beethoven filled her head. The floor under her vibrated, the sensation slowly fading away as she was left alone.

  He’d robbed her of sight, sound, and taste.

  And walked away.

  * * *

  Saint unleashed a breath as he stepped into the kitchen. The open floor plan would allow him to keep Grae in sight while still maintaining his distance. Boyce sat at their café-style table, smiling around a bottle of water. He’d come in quietly shortly after Saint blindfolded Grae, stood and watched the two of them from the doorway until the sound of Saint’s custom fucking machine could mask the sound of his footsteps.

  Saint angled the chair so he could keep Grae in full view. Though she was a sub for both of them, Saint had been the one to put her in the bondage, muffle her, blind her, and deafen her. Those factors made her his responsibility for the moment. He had no idea where the rest of the night was going to take them, but having so many possibilities spread out before him was tantalizing.

  As Saint sat, his rock-hard erection pressed against the zipper of his jeans. He wouldn’t be surprised to see an impression of the metal against his skin when he finally freed himself. He’d been hard since the moment he’d opened the front door and watched Grae go to her knees.

  “She get toppy?” Though Saint had the music cranked in her earphones, Boyce kept his voice low.

  “Hasn’t she from day one?”

  “Hell yeah.” Boyce grinned.

  Saint snorted. “What has you so happy?”

  “Walking in to see you prepping her nice and good? Means you have something up your sleeve. I had a few things I needed to get off my chest, but whatever she needs to talk to me about can wait.”

  “We both know what she needs.” Saint cut his gaze to Boyce for a second before returning to look at Grae. “We also both know what she wants.”

  “To give up complete control. And we both know she won’t. Even now that’s she come crawling back to us, said what she needed to say to clear the air. Even hooked up to your fucking machine she’s fighting.”

  Saint had noticed the behavior too. He’d purposefully made her believe he’d left her, to see how she’d react. Even when she believed she was alone, Grae couldn’t totally let herself go. “We push.”

  “Hard and long.”

  “It’s like you know me so well.”

  “Been fucking you for thirteen years. I damn well better.” Boyce swallowed the last of his water and retrieved three more bottles. He stood at the archway to the living room, gesturing toward Grae. “Your lead.”

  “To start, yeah. But no holding back anymore. We show her how it’s going to be in a committed relationship with us where this play isn’t just at the club.”

  One of Boyce’s eyebrows lifted. “Man, you are out to prove a point.”

  “Yeah.” Saint rose, shaking his leg to hopefully suppress the erection pressing painfully against the ridge of his jeans. “If this doesn’t break her, nothing will. And however much we love her won’t matter.”

  Boyce’s smile fell. He set down the bottles, pulled Saint close and wrapped his arms around Saint’s waist as he pressed his mouth against the side of Saint’s neck. “Push her. Hard. As hard as it takes. Don’t be afraid to scare her off. We go all or nothing this time.”

  As Saint tightened the hug, he knew Boyce was right. But a small piece of him was scared they’d break her beyond repair. And would she lock them out of her life forever. Again. And no amount of begging and pleading would fix the divide.

  The muffled cries from the living room grew louder.

  Boyce’s mouth curved against Saint’s throat. “Programmed it, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Saint listened for a few moments, letting the sounds of Grae’s ragged breath wash over him. Boyce’s body tightened against his as the sounds of her cries grew more and more desperate. Her full surrender had finally come. “She makes it through this section...in about fifteen minutes. She’ll burn up the motor.”

  Boyce glanced over his shoulder. “Can’t have that. It’s my favorite machine.”

  * * *

  Grae’s body was alight with a blazing inferno. Long ago, the soft strains of Beethoven had given way to the rough, grinding pulse of Nine Inch Nails. Grae felt lost but safe, floating in that in-between state where everything felt as though it had a sensual coating of pure bliss.

  Saint had made it easy for her to get lost in her own head, in her body, in the sensations bracketing her on all sides as the machine he’d put her in front of slowly thrust in and out. The rhythm hadn’t slowed or quickened, remaining steady without giving her anything to focus on.

  Her surrender, however, hadn’t come as easily. She’d fought tooth and nail, questioning everything she knew.

  But now she floated on the haze, enjoying each gentle thrust as the dildo slid through tissues heavy with arousal. The wood under her cheek gently vibrated, the pattern of footsteps too heavy for one person. Saint wasn’t alone. A quiet thrill tripped her heart rate knowing Boyce had come home.

  The men she loved were there with her.

  The machine shut off abruptly, and she whined. God, she sounded so needy. When had they made her this way?

  Something firm and slick touched her anus. As relaxed as she was because of the small toy Saint had inserted, her muscles opened to the intrusion. The object slipped through her opening, stretching her. It dipped and swirled, relaxing even more muscles.

  A pair of strong hands closed around her waist, smoothing over the swell of her hips, the soft flare of her waist, the arch of her upper back. Light touches grazed against each knob of her spine as something continued to slowly drive in and out of her back passage.

  Just as she slipped deeper, the object was removed and replaced with a substantially larger item. Her muscles clenched around the dildo still nested deep in her pussy. She sighed as strong hands moved over her shoulders, lovingly arranging her hair, spreading it out, smoothing the strands, gathering them and releasing. She accepted the width of the new toy in her ass easily, her muscles adjusting to being filled so much in both areas.

  A soft click, whir, and Saint’s fucking machine began anew.

  * * *

  Boyce handed Saint a glass of wine.

  Saint eyed him, but sampled the dark-ruby-colored liquid. Saint’s eyebrows lifted as he raised the glass to his mouth, and drank again. Boyce sniffed, tested, then drank. Alcohol wasn’t something they normally indulged in during a scene. They both preferred to be completely cognizant of what was going on, feeling that they had a responsibility to the sub they were with. Or to each other if they were alone. Plus, Kochran forbade it at his club.

  But Grae was in for a long night, and it would be a good length of time before things really took off. Besides, watching a submissive being double penetrated by Saint’s fucking machine deserved a toast with one of the finest damn cabernet sauvignons on the planet. No way in hell was Boyce celebrating this gorgeous sight with anything other than the very high-end bottle of Stonestreet he’d tucked away for a special occasion.

  Grae gave a high-pitched wail that trailed off into incoherent mumblings.

  Yeah, no way in hell.

  In appreciation, Boyce lifted his glass toward Saint before taking another sip. Saint grinned around the rim of his glass. Sometimes the man was too damn dev
ilish for his own good.

  As Boyce sipped again, he dropped his gaze from Saint to study the elegant contours of Grae’s body, the marvelous way Saint had bound her. Her ankles and wrists were secured by emerald-green cuffs, thick buckles locking her wrists together, while sturdy bars mounted to the bottom of Saint’s fucking machine held her thighs apart so she couldn’t close her legs. So she could do nothing to ease the relentless pounding of the two dildos working to drag her further and further into pleasure.

  She emitted a quiet, muffled wail as the muscles in her thighs, ass, and lower back began to tremble. Seconds later, her voice caught, her body going rigid. Her fingers flared wide, straining and reaching as she fought the climax trying to sweep through her.

  Saint met Boyce’s gaze as he leaned over and tapped the control panel. The quiet whine of the motor stopped, the pistoning action of the two rods coming to an abrupt halt.

  Grae howled, balling her hands into tight fists again with so much force, her knuckles immediately turned white. Saint had stopped the machine so both dildos hovered at her openings, leaving her pussy and ass empty. The straps binding her shoulders creaked as she tried to strain backward and impale herself on the dildos.

  Saint adjusted the rods so only the tip of each toy touched her. Grae’s whimpers fell off to quiet mewls, her body relaxing as she surrendered. As she accepted the fact Saint would give her the dildos when he was good and ready. Boyce knew this because he’d been on the receiving end of this treatment from Saint more than once.

  “Sadistic fuck. I like it.” Boyce finished off his wine. The drink slid down his throat, lighting a slow-burning fire that matched the heat collecting around the base of his cock.

  Saint swallowed the last of his wine as well, setting the glass on the side table as he rose. He was in one of those three-piece suits again. A dark navy blue that highlighted the color of his eyes. The pale-blue shirt and gold tie finished off the polished look. Saint bent, coding something into the control panel before rising again.

  Grae whimpered as the two dildos pushed inside her opening a fraction, then withdrew. In and out with maddening precision. Saint slid his hands into his pockets, staring down while the machine continued its minute movements that Boyce could only tell were happening because of the quiet sigh Grae gave each time it touched her folds.

  Her muscles were trembling again, her begging growing louder the more she was denied. Saint’s pleased chuckle drifted in the charged air as he faced Boyce. The perfect line of his slacks was marred by the hard ridge of his cock.

  An imperfection Boyce didn’t mind in the least.

  The spicy aroma of arousal reached Boyce first as Saint drew closer. It mixed with Grae’s excitement, blanketing all three of them. Saint bent closer, sliding his hand around the back of Boyce’s neck and drawing their mouths together. Boyce went, sliding his tongue against Saint’s lower lip. He nibbled and sucked, enjoying as their flavors tangled with the scents surrounding them. Saint tightened his grip, slowly drawing his tongue into Boyce’s mouth as Grae gave a high-pitched scream.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Grae’s entire body hurt. But it was a delicious ache that only made her want more. The two dildos slowed as she came down from her climax, leisurely drawing in and out to pull little aftershocks from her.

  Her throat hurt from screaming, her mouth dry as cotton from breathing fast and hard. Everything burned and ached and was swollen. But she felt so, so glorious. She had no idea what the men had planned to do from this point forward, the hell if she cared.

  She was theirs.

  A firm hand pressed against the top of her head, and she recognized the touch as Boyce’s. As Saint’s machine continued to play, Boyce pressed against her lovingly, sweeping his cool fingers against her forehead. Slowly brushing her damp hair away from her face as the toys impaling her finally withdrew. If she hadn’t been bound up and secured in this position, she would have dropped to the floor.

  Limp and boneless.

  Floaty.

  “Time for dinner, sweetheart.” Boyce’s voice sounded in her ear, and she realized she’d drifted off again. She wasn’t presented in front of Saint’s fucking machine. She was cradled in Boyce’s arms. The cuffs still circled her ankles and wrists, but she was free to move her limbs as necessary. He had also removed the headphones. For all the good it did because the buzzing in her head matched the buzzing of her body. A gentle back-and-forth motion rocked her as Boyce carried her.

  She surfaced sometime later, blinking as her vision cleared. She could see again. And she was staring at the ceiling at a pair of heavy wood beams. Her limbs were heavy, as though her veins were filled with metal in lieu of blood. She wanted to lift her head, but it too felt weighted.

  Saint and Boyce were talking softly close by. If only she could make her body behave.

  “Seems she’s joining us again,” Saint said. Something touched her cheek, stroking gently. Her eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the tender caresses until she felt a twitch high up inside her.

  She gasped, trying to squirm away.

  And realized she couldn’t move.

  “Mmm...her nipples just peaked. Think her mind just caught up with her body.”

  She was surrounded, wrapped so tightly all she felt was the press everywhere at once. Her head was still exposed, but they had robbed her of every sense but feel. Except for the vibrator nestled deep inside her.

  It buzzed again.

  She tried to arch, but the confinement held her firmly in place. The only thing she could do was accept the gentle vibration and let it wash through her, touching off trailing coils of heat all over her body. Frustrated, she stopped struggling and relaxed. The vibration stopped, leaving her filled with a warm gooey feeling. She licked her parched lips.

  “Are you thirsty?” Boyce asked, his voice perfectly calm, as though she wasn’t strapped down and held immobile.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes...?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she managed after a few attempts.

  “Good girl. Drink.” She accepted the offered straw, taking a tentative sip. Cool liquid flowed over her tongue and she drank greedily.

  “An electrolyte solution in your favorite flavor.”

  Raspberry. She drank more.

  “Hungry?”

  She shook her head as she licked her lips. Food was the last thing on her mind. “I’m fine.”

  The men grew quiet again, which gave Grae a few moments to determine her surroundings. They were in the dining room, at the long, eight-person table she’d always thought was so out of the place in the informal atmosphere they’d created with their thrift store furniture. She wondered if this was the first time they’d done something like this.

  Then she realized she didn’t care.

  They’d stripped her of all rational thought earlier, when Saint had deprived her of all her senses. Now Boyce was forcing her to focus on each of them. Each breath she took. Each slow, loving stroke of his fingers against her forehead. He wanted her aware. In the moment. The latex he’d stretched over her had a slight texture. Tiny ridges, or bumps, scales even? Like a million fingers pressing against her skin.

  Boyce had left her head exposed, her eyes and ears free of the confines Saint had used.

  Her stomach growled when she caught the scent of something rich and decadent. Her heart skipped a beat. They were using her as table decoration as they ate. A centerpiece for their meal. And as the vibrations between her legs were growing stronger, she realized she loved the hell out of this. She’d shunned this part of her for years by remaining locked away in her home office, watching video of others doing exactly this.

  Exploring.

  Playing.

  Not denying themselves the very thing that made them happy.

  Even though she loved the sensati
ons they were giving her, she was also frustrated. She felt the pressure of their touch, but all this damn slick texture against her skin kept her from feeling fully engaged.

  Gah. This was madness.

  She was confined, bound, at their mercy. And aching. Aching so much. Aching for everything they were denying her even though she’d apologized and told them what had frightened her the most. What she needed most in the world.

  Saint had used the fucking machine. Now Boyce used this sheet. This play would end like all the other times. Nothing was different. The other man was on the periphery, never giving her what she truly craved. What she wanted. What she came to them seeking.

  Not a couple, but the men as a whole. She wanted more than the sex and domination. More than Noble House or the play. She wanted permanence. A strength she knew Saint and Boyce would give her.

  She wanted their love.

  Their vows.

  Their collars.

  Their rings.

  Just how much equipment did they have hidden away in their place?

  The realization slammed hard into her chest. This was their space. Their home. Their furniture was made to accommodate them, and the way they chose to live their life. Total immersion. This wasn’t just a passing fancy for them. A notion to entertain their healthy sex drives. This was who they were all the way down to the core of their bodies. To the blood flowing through them.

  It was up to her to accept this aspect. Accept their love.

  They’d given her what she wanted.

  Saint collected her tears, ghosting his lips over her forehead as he swiped her face dry. “Frightening, isn’t it? Realizing what you wanted all along really is yours for the taking? That even though you came prepared to accept this, that the reality is very, very different.”

  She nodded as he continued, “We gave you what you needed, Grae. It’s up to you to decide what to do with the gift you’ve been given. It was there all along, baby. You just needed to ask for it.”

  Boyce’s face came into view. “We love you, sweetheart. We always have.”