by Lainey Reese
When Gage leaned forward and set his mouth on one of her sensitive inner thighs, Terryn’s whole body jolted in reaction. As he bit and suckled up the length of that leg, she gasped and dug her hands in his hair. Brice could have warned her—he knew what was coming—but he was eager for what would come as a result, so he just settled back and watched the show.
“Little sub,” Gage said as he locked an iron grip around her wrists. “Did I give you permission to touch me?”
Terryn jolted in shock at the question and then looked at him with wide eyes.
“And now you done gone and made it worse.” He shook his head as he sat back on his knees. “Didn’t I just tell you to keep your pretty eyes down until you were told you could lift ’em?” Too late, Terryn lowered her eyes and mumbled an apology but Gage was already set on a path. “If Brice had trained you better, we wouldn’t be needin’ to do this, so you can just lay what happens next at his feet. Now sit down and give me your hands.”
Brice walked over to help her down since her legs were shackled. Once she was seated, he leaned her forward and guided her hands to clasp the middle of the bar.
Gage grabbed the wrist cuffs and clasped them in place. He ordered, “Even with the cuffs, I want you to hold on tight.” Then Brice stepped back and reached for the switch that would raise the bar.
As Terryn was lifted slowly into the air, Gage riffled through the duffle he’d gotten from his locker. He pulled out a riding crop that Brice was fond of. It was slender and made of a nicely flexible fiberglass stem with a soft leather flap. Terryn hadn’t seen it yet since all her focus was on herself at the moment. She was completely off the floor now and as the bar lifted higher and higher she began to pant and whimper.
Since Gage was taller and currently had the lead, Brice kept her going until her ass was at a perfect level for him. Once it stopped, Terryn hung there swaying and panting while he and Gage enjoyed the view. Her legs spread wide and clamped tight with her arms secured to the center of the bar. Long red hair shrouded her shoulders and the upper curve of her back while that delectable ass was wide open and exposed—just waiting for whatever they wanted to do to it.
Terryn gripped the bar so tight her knuckles turned white. She was spread wide, folded in half and hanging, ass in the air in a room with two fully clothed men. When she’d dreamed about this lifestyle, she hadn’t even come close to a situation like this.
Gage hummed his approval of the picture she made and ran one large hand along the “V” of her legs, leaving goose bumps in his wake. Brice stepped up behind her and grasped a handful of her hair and used it to tilt her head back and take her lips.
His kiss was not what she had been expecting. She’d braced for a brutal plunder of her mouth and instead what she got was a tender, sweet seduction. He nipped at her lips and laid feather-light brushes of his tongue along each one until she was open and straining for him.
She wanted nothing more than his mouth sealed to hers and he denied her, pulling back and tightening his grip on her hair until she settled herself to take only what he gave. Then the warm scrape of Gage’s work-roughened hand was replaced by a cool tickle and Terryn risked more punishment by lifting her eyes to see what Gage was doing.
“Oh God.” It was a riding crop. Both men chuckled at her shocked whisper and then Brice stepped back and hit the remote for her breasts.
At first Gage just stroked the crop lightly along the same path that he’d taken with his hand. Next, he didn’t really hit her—it was more like a fluttering up and down her thighs and across her bottom. Then he shocked a gasp from her with a firm smack on the sole of both her feet in fast succession. While her toes curled and she pulled at her arms with no result, she got her first sharp snap from the crop. It landed right in the center of her left butt cheek and Terryn was more surprised than stung. He wasted no time in landing the next on her right cheek. Then more up and down her legs again, some soft as a kiss, others harsh as the sting of a wasp.
The whole time, the pads on her breasts were in constant use, sucking and vibrating with differing speeds and force. The crop was never still and Gage didn’t stick to a pattern so she could do nothing to brace herself for the sharper slaps of it. The warming sensation started as a tickle on the soles of her feet which he kept coming back to with quick stings from the crop, and it grew in intensity as it got closer to her bottom. All that intensity was pulsing toward her core.
Terryn felt herself drifting and her vision turned white at the edges. She started losing her focus—she couldn’t remember where Brice was standing and she kept forgetting that her arms were immovable. Every time she received a sharp smack, she tried to let loose so she could shield her bottom. She didn’t know if she was more turned on or frustrated by her restraints. That warming turned into a low-level burn in her ass and it was seeping up into her pussy to set fire to her entire lower half.
She shook her head, thinking that might somehow clear it and help her focus. Then—CRACK—the first hit that she would call a whipping landed right in the center of one cheek and Terryn let out a shout. CRACK. Again he did it, and again.
Just when she felt like she was going to cry, he stopped and that big strong hand was exploring her throbbing flesh. He murmured, “Poor baby,” and then the pad over her clit hummed to life.
“She’s got a sweet little cunt on her, Gage.” Brice’s voice seemed to float over the room from nowhere. “Taste her.”
Her brain was foggy, but Terryn had enough working cells to blush over that, then Gage replied, “Mmm, is that so?” and lowered his head.
The crop hung from his wrist while his hands held her lips open and his tongue delved inside. She couldn’t hear his moan over her own breathless cry—but she felt it. It reverberated through every inch of her body as he suckled and lapped while his blunt fingers tugged on her lips with just enough force to add another layer of sensation. She didn’t know that the keening she heard was from her own mouth until Brice whispered, “Shhhh, easy,” and ran a comforting hand down her side.
Gage lifted his head and told Brice, “Damn, son, I think you’re right.”
Then he started with the crop again. Hard, soft, all the way up to her knees and back down again. When the tingle of each individual slap morphed into a constant, relentless burn, he stepped back and slapped that crop right onto her swollen and pulsing sheath. Her scream echoed in the room as her whole body locked and swayed in her restraints.
She hadn’t come, but it was like hanging on the edge of a climax—a climax that had teeth. Her vision went white and there was a buzzing in her ears as every part of her reached for the release that would set her free. She felt drunk and energized at the same time. Terryn couldn’t think beyond one simple word: Please. Please, please, please. It echoed through her brain like a chant, only she couldn’t have said whether she was begging for them to stop or for them to go on forever.
She heard them talking from what seemed like miles away. Although she couldn’t make out everything they were saying, some disjointed words seeped through the fog in her brain. Phrases like “sub-space” and “never d.p.’d” and “plug out” were some of them. She couldn’t make sense of them and didn’t think she even wanted to try. All she could do was hang there in an agony of suspense while the men with the power to end that suspense decided what they were going to do to her.
Brice startled her when he slung what looked like a very wide belt along her back. He kissed her temple and shushed her as he adjusted it to his liking and checked its connection to a ceiling hook. Then he unfastened her cuffs from the bar and eased her back into the belt, shifting it and her as she was slowly stretched out. When he was satisfied, her wrists were now cuffed to the belt, her shoulders and head were lower than her hips and her legs were still suspended in a “V” from the bar. It was strange to be essentially lying down in midair and the feeling of floating was heightened by the arousal still throbbing through her blood.
She was looking over her body and adjusting to this n
ew position when Gage stepped into her view between her widespread legs. Her eyes locked on his now-bare chest and lower as she watched him roll a condom onto his enormous erection and Terryn’s already foggy brain went foggier. The body that had been teasing her on the dance floor was even better than she had imagined. She wasn’t a bodybuilding expert, but she was sure he had to be. Muscles bulged and defined every inch of him and Terryn heard herself gulp. Loudly.
He reached between her throbbing cheeks. “Hang on, sugar,” he told her in his honey-rich drawl. “I’m takin’ this out before we get started.”
At first she couldn’t think what he meant, and then he grasped the plug. He didn’t just remove it—instead, he played with it first. He nudged it in deeper with tiny pulses, then he made circles with it while the pad over her clit came to life again. She was already so close to the edge she was sure it was going to send her over, but just as those first waves crested, he pulled the plug out and left her gasping.
Brice cupped a gentle hand on her face and turned her toward him. “Open up, baby. Let me in.”
The velvety head of his cock teased her lips and as she allowed him to slide deep inside, Gage entered her from below in one slow, sure push. He felt so different than Brice—he was thicker and as he continued his forward glide, he seemed longer too. Which was worrisome enough to chase back a little of the fog from her mind. Brice was not a small or even moderate-sized man and she worried that Gage might be more than she could take. Terryn shuddered when he finally reached the end of himself. Or maybe it was the end of her; she couldn’t tell and didn’t care. All she knew was she felt invaded and full and completely taken over. Her ass was still tingling from the plug. The nerves there throbbed and pulsed from the stretching and pressure of having Gage inside her.
The men waited for her to adjust. She wouldn’t say they were still. There was too much power in their bodies to call all that coiled tension stillness. To Terryn, it closely resembled the way a jungle cat stalks, muscles bunched and quivering in anticipation of the perfect moment to pounce and devour its prey. When her eyes lifted and met Brice’s, the look on his face only intensified that image in her mind. An adrenaline rush of fear mixed like a heady wine with her arousal until she felt her whole body shudder in reaction. As if that were the signal they had been awaiting, they both moved as one.
Gage slid his hands along her legs until he had a firm grip on her thighs, anchoring her to him, and Brice grabbed what she was coming to think of as his favorite handle—a fistful of hair. Then they began thrusting and rocketed Terryn into heaven. She’d never dreamed that having two men at once would be like this. She hung suspended between them, wholly at their mercy as they tunneled in and out of her body while all she could do was take it.
Gage moved his grip from her thighs to her butt cheeks and squeezed, once, twice, three times with hard jolting thrusts and he chuckled as her body exploded on cue in an orgasm that had her gurgling a scream around Brice’s shaft. He said something to Brice and then before she had a chance to catch her breath, one thick finger thrust into her ass while the clit pad went turbo and Terryn’s world went black then white as she was catapulted back into orbit again. Ricochets of pleasure bombarded her when the incredible pulses centered in her core.
Brice had eased out from her mouth for that one and as she panted and gasped in the aftermath, he slid back between her lips. Terryn sucked him back in with everything she had and was rewarded by his dark hiss and the telling quiver in his legs. With one last pump, Gage slipped his finger from her ass and returned his grip to her thighs. She heard the deep rumble of them as they spoke to each other again. Too far gone to know what was said, Terryn sensed a new force to their lovemaking. Suddenly, she could tell they had decided that playtime was over and they were about to get serious.
It lasted forever. It was over too soon. She thought she was done climaxing. If asked, she would have said it would be impossible for her to come again after the force of the ones she’d already had. Then the pads on her nipples and her clit blazed to sudden, brutal life and she was powerless against it. Terryn was unable to even arch within the tight grips of the men when her body simply locked as the force of the next orgasm set every bone on fire until she was nothing but living flame between them.
Gage started losing his rhythm next. His griped turned viselike on her thighs and he pulled her into his increasingly harder thrusts with deep, growling grunts. Terryn felt him swell to an unbelievable size seconds before he roared and she felt the heat and throb of his release through his condom while he pounded into her to the end.
Brice pulled her focus back to him then when he shoved farther into her mouth than he ever had before, tilting her head back at an angle that allowed him to deep throat her. She watched his face as he watched his shaft plunge between her lips over and over. Within moments, his lips curled back in a snarl. As deep as he was, she couldn’t do anything but take as he roared and that first bitter, hot splash bathed her mouth.
It was some minutes before either of them could move. Terryn was profoundly grateful that she was supported and equally glad that as the sub, aftercare was up to someone else.
Nothing in her life had ever been like that. A burning sensation was starting to penetrate her senses as the fog slowly lifted from her brain. The backs of her thighs and especially the cheeks of her ass felt like she had a good sunburn going on. There was also serious doubt in her mind that she’d ever walk or sit down again. She sighed and thought that was just fine with her.
Chapter Thirteen
At the Surf-N-Slurp, Angie was closing up for the night. The espresso machine was clean. The tables were washed and the counters wiped down. She had tomorrow’s breads and muffins already mixed and waiting for the oven first thing in the morning. She stopped at the back door with the trash—her last duty of the day—waiting at her feet.
She looked over the shop like she always did, making a final visual sweep of the place just to be sure she caught everything. Assured that all was as it should be, she dragged the garbage bag out the back door with her. She was ticking each step off the list she needed to follow to get ready for her late-night date.
“First, stuff this stinkin’ mess in the stinkin’ dumpster.” She huffed as she dragged the heavy black bag closer to its final resting place. “Second, go make a final sweep for lowlifes hidin’ in the bathrooms, then hit the lights and hurry, so I don’t miss the train home again and stinkin’ have to wait a half hour for stinkin’ nothin’.”
With a mighty heave, she flung the bag up and into the overflowing bin then she cursed fluently when the landing caused a revolting spray of coffee grounds to splatter her arms and face.
“Eww! Yuck.” Angie frantically wiped at her eyes and spit out grounds in between profanities. “Son of a—”
She never saw the bat coming. One bright startling flash of pain and then it was over. As her body crumpled to the ground, she didn’t feel the repeated hits that fractured her skull nor the ones that broke her bones as the blows continued to rain down with merciless glee. She most certainly didn’t hear the laughter.
Brice was feeling pretty freaking smug. He looked over at the woman curled up in the seat next to him and it took quite a bit of self-control to keep from gloating. Terryn was back in her little black dress, minus the belt and its accessories, and looked about as substantial as steam. She kept glancing at him with stars in her eyes and making a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a hum. It made him feel like Superman.
His eyes locked with Gage’s over her head and the two shared a moment of silent accord. They both were experienced enough to know that what had happened tonight with Terryn was rare. It had been like a perfectly choreographed dance with one hell of a crescendo. Brice watched what could only be called a shit-eating grin spread across Gage’s face and felt an identical one on his own. He looked down at Terryn and the grin just got bigger. She was the sub he’d been searching for since that very first night back in college.
He knew it was fast, but he also knew that with each new discovery into who she was, he only fell deeper.
“Hey.” He nudged her shoulder. “You want to stop at the Surf-N-Slurp for some late-night coffee? They stay open late, don’t they?”
Terryn looked up with sleepy eyes. “Yeah, if we aren’t going straight to sleep when we get to your place, I’ll need coffee.” Her smile was all sexy, satisfied woman and damn if it didn’t make him want to satisfy her again. He looked up and got a nod from Gage, then gave the new direction to the cabbie.
As Brice helped Terryn from the cab, Gage paid the fare and they headed for the door. Locked. Terryn made a sad sound and pointed out that they missed it by ten minutes.
“Why are the lights still on, though?” she asked.
Brice felt a sick twist in his gut. “Gage, hold on to her here for a minute,” he said. When Terryn reached for his hand and started to speak, Brice just shook his head. “Stay here with Gage and I’ll be right back.”
Brice didn’t tell her it was nothing. He was rarely off when his instincts were firing like they were now, so he didn’t bother to give her a false line about him probably being paranoid. He just left them frowning after him as he pulled his gun and headed for the back entrance.
“Sonofagoddamnfuckingbitch!”
Angie. It was Angie lying in a pool of blood next to the garbage.
He wanted to rush to her and hold her, but the training and years as a cop choked that first gut urge and made him sweep the alley for any signs of the perp. His eyes scanned everything around her. The door to the coffee shop was shut and there were no cars in sight.
He fished his phone out of his pocket and spoke into it without putting his gun away or taking his eyes off the alley. As he moved in to check for a pulse, he did it with a heavy heart, sure that there would be none. First dial was to dispatch to call it in, then he hit his partner’s number. As the thing rang once then once more, he felt the fury and anguish boil up inside him like a pressure cooker. He didn’t have a clue what he was going to say to Kent when a miracle happened.
