Bound by the Past

by Mari Carr

  “Your pose is all wrong, slave,” Night explained to her as Jon stood and watched the effect his friend’s words were having on her. “Your legs should be open. Never, never close your pussy in front of your Masters when they are punishing you.”

  She moved her feet about a foot apart. Jon stepped behind her and shoved them so far she had to stand on her tiptoes.

  “That’s better.” Night continued his instructions. “You’re supposed to count.”

  She seemed confused by that command. “Count?”

  Jon swatted her twice more with the spoon and this time he let the wide part of the utensil graze the edge of her pussy lips. She cried out and he watched with amazement as even more fluid flowed from her opening. Her body was begging to be fucked. “That’s the second time you’ve spoken without permission, slave,” Jon barked.

  “The strokes. Count each time he hits you. Aloud,” Night explained.

  She nodded. Night stood up and resumed his hold on her wrists.

  Jon swung the spoon again and she choked out a “one”. He hit her three more times, each time varying where the spoon landed. Each time, she called out a number.

  “Do you know why you’re being punished, slave?” Jon asked as he delivered blows five and six.

  “No Sir.”

  “Your eyes will always give you away, Carly. I warned you once about rolling your eyes. When you call me Master, I never want to see anything but devotion in your gaze. Do you understand?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  He continued to pepper her ever-reddening behind until she reached number fifteen. By the time Jon finished, she was groaning and squirming on the table. She was actually fighting her arousal and he shook his head.

  Getting her to call “uncle” was going to be harder than he’d thought. Keeping himself out of her warm, welcoming body would be even harder. Disregarding what his brain was telling him to do, Jon couldn’t fight the unbearable desire permeating his senses. With trembling fingers, he yanked down the zipper of his jeans and shoved them around his ankles.

  That was all the time he could spare as he leaned forward and pushed into her hot, wet body. He was buried to the hilt in one thrust. He stayed there for a moment, soaking up the sounds of her grateful cries, loving every ripple as her muscles clenched around his painfully hard erection.

  Glancing up, Jon watched Night pull out his cock and rub it with his hand. Her head was raised and she was attempting to get her mouth closer to Night.

  Night laughed. “Not this time, slave. You’ll have to wait for this cock.” Looking up at him, Night’s eyebrows rose as if to ask, “What are you waiting for?”

  Jon grinned and gripped her hips. He was vaguely aware of her sharp intake of breath as he touched the heated flesh of her bottom. Her breathing soon turned to pleasured cries as he held her hips firmly in place and powered into her with a force he felt certain was shaking the Earth. Night leaned against the other side of the table, no doubt holding it in place, all the while watching and rubbing his own cock.

  She came twice, her orgasms fast and furious against him. Gritting his teeth, he continued to pummel her sweet body, refusing to give up his refuge so soon. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be denied his pleasure, and as she came again, her clenching muscles dragged and pulled every drop of come in his body into hers. Jon heard Night leave the room, but couldn’t force himself to pull out of the sanctuary of her warmth.

  He bend forward, his chest covering her back. She turned her head and he couldn’t resist placing a kiss on her soft cheek. She pushed up and he allowed her the movement, not bothering to punish her for moving her hands and coming without permission. His cock slid from her wet folds and she turned, taking him into her embrace. He couldn’t deny himself the delights of her loving touch. He couldn’t recall anyone in his life touching him with such gentleness and love.

  Try as he may, he couldn’t see a way to beat her at this bet.

  When Night came back into the room, he wasn’t surprised to see Carly in his friend’s arms. She was touching Jon’s face and looking at him with such love in her eyes, he knew his friend would never be able to do what was necessary to convince her to bow out of the investigation. Jon was too deeply in love with her. Everything about her called upon Jon’s need to protect.

  Taking a deep breath, Night steadied himself, realizing it would be up to him. She needed to understand this wasn’t fun and games they were playing in the bedroom. Cassandra never treated sex as an expression of love, only power, and Carly ran the real risk of being hurt badly.

  “Well, isn’t this cozy?”

  Jon shot him a nasty look before remembering himself and their purpose. He offered an apologetic shrug. She started to stand up as well.

  “No.” Night gripped her upper arm and twisted her back into her original position, facedown over the table. She tried to resist, but he placed strong hand in the middle of her back and forced her to remain on the flat surface. At her sharp intake of breath, he could tell she was surprised by his rough touch.

  “I didn’t give you permission to move.”

  “I-I’m sorry, Master Night.”

  “Keep your legs apart and your eyes averted, slave.”

  Night held up what he’d gone to the bedroom to retrieve. Jon’s eyes darkened. Neither of them had breached her ass, nor had they discussed it. They’d both sensed she was a bit afraid of the idea and they were leery to frighten her until she became more accustomed to them. Time had now run out. She’d forced them to take off the kid gloves.

  Jon moved into Night’s former position at the head of the table. He didn’t grab her wrists, but instead ran his fingers gently through her hair.

  Night shook his head. Jon’s softness was going to get them all killed if they ever made it onto the compound. Jon’s hand stilled as he took a deep breath. Then he tightened his grip, tugging roughly on Carly’s hair, provoking a gasp from her beautiful lips.

  Night watched his friend’s great effort to return to his former self. The transformation was staggering. For the first time in years, he felt as if he were facing his teenage friend once again. Jon’s face turned hard and cold. Night realized how much he preferred the man Jon had become. He and Reilly had been wrong. Bit by bit, they’d demanded Jon put away all the good parts of his personality he’d struggled to create since leaving the CAA and embarking on his teaching career. Night’s chest tightened. What if Jon couldn’t pull it back again? What if this time the darkness swallowed him whole and refused to release him?

  Night faced the same fears himself, but somehow it seemed easier for him to turn his emotions off. He’d lived a lifetime as an empty shell.

  Carly shifted slightly on the table. Night cursed his cruelty. She was no doubt uncomfortable in the position. Goose bumps on her arms proved that she was cold. For a moment, he considered taking her upstairs and keeping her buried under the soft quilts, tied to the bed until this mess with Cassandra was straightened out. He only ever wanted her warm and safe and happy. Right now, the idea of holding her captive in order to protect her seemed a lot saner than sending her straight into their past hell.

  Jon must have read his thoughts because he moved to stand beside him.

  “This will be cold, slave.” Jon took the lube from his hands and, as Night watched, spread it around her puckered rosette, pushing a single finger in slowly. Her entire body was tense as Jon moved his finger in and out. “Relax.”

  After a few moments, she seemed to adjust to the feeling. Night watched her breathing become steadier. Jon must have felt it as well because he added another finger to the dance. Again, he let her body set the pace. In and out, he pushed until she relaxed.

  Once she’d accepted three of his fingers with relative ease, Jon removed his hand.

  Night took the lube off the table and smeared his dick with it. Positioning himself, he slowly pushed forward until just the head of his cock was lodged in her tight anus. She started to tense up again but Jon was back at her hea
d, leaning down and whispering hot, dark words in her ear. He felt her body’s natural liquid flow from her empty pussy. Night couldn’t resist running his fingers through it, using it to touch and tease the hard nub of her clit.

  Jon’s words and his touch worked their magic and she began to push back, silently begging for more of his cock.

  “That’s right, slave.” Jon was running his hands through her hair. “Let Night in. He’s your master now. Your body belongs to him.”

  Her movements were erratic and borderline desperate. Night held tight to her hips, refusing to let her direct their play. The more she wanted, the better it would be. Problem was, he was barely holding on himself. Her ass was clenching around him, driving him wild. She sobbed and the sound broke the last of his restraints. Night plunged into her tight, hot depths in one thrust.

  She screamed and tried to recoil, but Jon’s strong hand on her back, Night’s firm grip on her hips held her steady. Her body was heaven on earth and he felt a stirring in his heart.

  “God. Night.”

  “Dammit, Carly. No talking.” Night recalled his role and added, “Slave.”

  Then he gave her no more than a few seconds to accept his girth before he let loose with all the need, the desire, the fear locked up inside him. He was overwhelmed by the emotions this moment was creating in him. He didn’t want a slave. He wanted love. Acceptance. He understood now why Jon couldn’t go through with this training.

  Night slowed his pace.

  Carly seemed to notice his hesitance. She pressed back against him. “I want you, Night. So much. Please. Don’t stop.”

  All the years of feeling unworthy, unloved and broken bubbled to the forefront. He struggled to understand how this tiny woman, after so short an acquaintance, could see something decent and worthwhile inside him when no other woman ever had. Not his mother, certainly not Cassandra, no one.

  He withdrew. Then returned. On and on he pounded inside her ass, silently begging her with his body to take it all away from him. Release him from the chains that had bound him since birth, held him to a life that was cold and lonely and dark.

  Her inner muscles clenched and he vaguely sensed she was coming, but still he drove on. There was too much. Too much bad stuff inside him and he wanted it out. All of it. Another orgasm ripped through her body and the grip of it was almost painful against his cock. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes and dripping onto the soft skin of her back.

  “More!” he cried. “There’s more. Take it. Take it all.” And he continued to ride her. She came for a third time and finally, he was powerless to resist the pull. He emptied himself deep within her, filling her ass with come.

  “Night?” Her voice was rough and came out in a whisper.

  He couldn’t move. He was crushing her against the table, but his arms and legs felt paralyzed.

  “Night.” She pushed against him as he struggled to pull them both up and away from the table. He was only able to remain upright for a second before he fell into one of the kitchen chairs. She followed him onto the chair, curling up on his lap like a cat. She put her arms around his shoulders and pulled his face into the crook of her neck.

  It was then Night realized it wasn’t sweat running down his face, but tears. He was crying. Christ. He’d never cried a day in his life and yet, here in her sweet embrace, he was sobbing like a baby.

  She rocked him gently as he tried to stem the flow of tears. Her kind, soft “shhh” continued to undo him.

  He tried to choke out an apology. He’d taken her like a wild animal on the table and he certainly didn’t deserve her consoling hug. When at last he regained control, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him. It was the kiss of an angel, and for the first time in his life, he not only felt purged of his sins, he felt new, reborn. Free.

  “I’m falling in love with you.” He whispered the words against her lips, knowing in his heart it was too soon to make such a confession. They known each other a week and yet, it was the truth. “God. I’m sorry.”

  She smiled and kissed his rough cheek. “That doesn’t sound like something that requires an apology.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Maybe not completely. But I want to.” She ran her hand along his face so sweetly, he feared he’d start to cry again. “I want to know you inside and out.”

  Her words fell around him like a cool waterfall on a hot summer’s day. He wrapped her tighter in his embrace, holding her close for several minutes.

  Jon. The thought of his friend caused him to pull away from her. When he looked around, he realized Jon was no longer in the room.

  When had he left, and why?

  “He’s not here.” She answered his unasked question. “I think he knew we needed a few minutes alone together.”

  “I hurt you, Carly. I was too rough.”

  She laughed quietly. “Good pain and bad pain, remember?”

  “And where did that fall?”

  “Honestly. It hurt like hell at first. And then, it felt like heaven.”

  “Please don’t go to the compound.” The words flew from his lips.

  “How can I not go? You and Jon are risking your lives, your sanity to see this woman brought to justice. I love you both, Night. There’s no way I can stay behind. Not if there’s a chance I can help you. Do you think I don’t see how much this is hurting you? Hurting Jon? Please don’t ask me to stay behind.”

  “We don’t deserve you.” He smiled as he spoke but he’d never meant any words more.

  She giggled. “I’m going to need that in writing. For all those times the two of you become overbearing and impossible.”

  Night joined her laughter. It felt good to be teasing and joking, especially after the intensity of the last few moments. Leave it to her to know exactly how to make him feel better.

  “We’re never overbearing and impossible. You must be thinking of someone else.”

  “Actually, I was using the kindest descriptions. I left out arrogant, possessive, demanding—”

  He laughed louder. “Well, it seems like you have your work cut out for you. Maybe it isn’t Jon and I who are doing the training here.”

  “Now you’re getting it.” She stood and pulled him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s find Jon. I only have twenty-two more hours to whip you boys into shape.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Carly drove home from work, her mind racing over the events of the past couple days. She had held the men to their promise and the word “uncle” never crossed her lips during those twenty-four hours. Of course, if she was being honest with herself, she’d admit they didn’t try too hard after their tryst in the kitchen. She suspected something very vital had changed within both men during that episode, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what.

  She’d witnessed firsthand the pain the past was causing them and—regardless of the peril—she was determined she would help them find closure. She refused to let either of them fall victim to any more abuse at that vicious woman’s hands.

  It had taken all the strength in her body to remain still the night Jon had received the phone call from Cassandra. Even now, she felt a pain in her chest as she recalled the lost sound in his voice. She’d immediately followed the men downstairs and listened to their anguished discussion. She could only imagine the pain Jon had suffered, watching his first love murdered so brutally by Rex.

  Like Jon, she felt no pleasure in seeing the past dragged back up, but she agreed with Night that it was way past time to see Cassandra punished for her crimes. Besides, as long as Trisha remained at the retreat and in danger, she refused to back down from that goal. The young girl had worked as an aide in the office and they had become quite close. Carly was aware things at home had been rough. Trisha’s father had recently lost his job and had begun drinking as a result. Even that, however, seemed to pale in comparison to the thought that Trisha was in danger of being sold into a life of prostitution…

  “Shit!”


  She pulled her car off the road and claimed an empty parking spot in front of Food Lion. Her hands started trembling and suddenly she was sobbing uncontrollably.

  What the hell was she doing? She’d thrown herself right smack dab in the middle of a mission like something out of a Tom Clancy novel. She was immersing herself in a dangerous, bizarre investigation where there was a very real possibility she could be raped, shot or killed. To make matters worse, there were other women’s lives depending on her success or failure.

  She wasn’t this kind of woman. Hell, she’d stayed in an unhappy marriage for ten years simply because it was easier than seeking a divorce. She’d never done anything more life threatening than skiing and even that risk was taken on the freaking bunny slope. And despite all of that, she was willing to fly up the mountain to enter the facility because the fact of the matter was, that prospect seemed less frightening than dealing with what was actually terrifying the hell out of her.

  She’d fallen headlong in love with two men who, amazingly enough, seemed to be equally in love with her. Night and Jon, in the course of a few days, had become as vital to her as the air she breathed.

  Christ. She couldn’t keep both of them. Could she? A ménage is a fantasy. There weren’t really people out there who actually lived the fantasy every day, were there? Neither one of the men seemed the least bit fazed about their unusual relationship. Every night, the three of them fell into bed together as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But what happened when the real world intruded? People would eventually start to notice if she was constantly on the arms of two men.

  Holy hell, what would her family say? Even though they were pretty liberal-minded and they’d met Jon and loved him, what would they think if she added Night to the equation? A threesome. How the hell would she explain it to them? Talk about your awkward Thanksgiving dinner conversations.

  Besides, what if, once they avenged the crimes committed by Cassandra and put the pain of their past behind them, they decided to move on? What if, in their attempts to move on, they decided to leave their unusual needs—and her—behind?