The phone rang.
5
Raphael’s number was flashing up at her.
Maisie stared at the screen in disbelief. She had emailed Trent, but Raphael was calling back.
Her imagination filled in the rest: Trent forwarding the message to Raphael. A panicked meeting. The decision that Raphael should reach out, own up to what he’d done.
It stopped ringing, then started up again. Raphael, of course.
She really didn’t want to answer, but she did anyway.
“What do you need?” Her tone was cool, if not downright icy.
“Maisie? Are you ready to discuss what happened?”
She snorted. “Not really, no.” This was bullshit. “Are you married?”
“Excuse me?” His voice had gone from Lawyer Raphael to Dom Raphael. “I assure you, I am not,” he pronounced, regally condescending.
Her relief was short-lived.
“Is it Ethan?”
“Are you asking me if Ethan is married?”
“Byron told me. One of you is.”
“None of us is,” Raphael growled.
She’d never heard him like this before; it was like he was channeling Ethan at his grumpiest.
“What the hell happened in that interview, Maisie?”
Even as the weight slid from her shoulders, another suspicion entered her mind. “Separated? Do you have kids?”
“Are you married?” he asked, his voice sharp as a knife. “Are you home?”
“Yes.”
She was starting to feel foolish. Byron really hadn’t seemed to be lying, but Raphael would have to be insane to deny it.
“I’m on my way,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.” He ended the call.
Only then did Maisie remember Mrs. Donahue saying the bosses were bachelors, married to their jobs. Why had she forgotten that?
Because of fear.
Because, deep down, she didn’t trust that any of this was real. It had been too easy at the beginning, and now she was paying.
Maisie pushed out of the chair. She wanted to run through the door, down the stairs, into the street, and then keep going.
Raphael called again twenty minutes later.
“I’m en route to an ice cream parlor a few blocks from your apartment. Scoops-A-Lot. Do you need the address?”
“I know where it is.”
“Make sure you’re not followed.”
When she was outside, she looked around but didn’t spot any lurking police officers. Still, she took a circuitous route to meet Raphael, and every few seconds she glanced over her shoulder, just in case.
Half a block from Scoops-A-Lot, a dark limo pulled over next to her, its wheels practically coming up on the curb. The door opened.
“You’re not very subtle,” Trent said. “Get in.”
She hadn’t expected Trent. Raphael was sitting on one of the side seats.
She glanced around again, then hustled into the limo.
“What do you mean, not subtle?” she asked as they pulled back into the street.
“The way you keep looking over your shoulder,” Trent said. “Try to be casual about it.”
Maisie nodded.
“Listen. About my email…” She trailed off as she looked at Raphael, who was staring straight ahead, his expression stony.
He could be as scary as Ethan. Apart from the sex, she’d thought of him as Mr. Straight and Narrow, but he had another side to him. She was seeing that now.
Trent held out his hand. “The ring, please.”
Maisie worked it off her finger and dropped it into his palm. He handed it to Raphael, who made it disappear into an inside pocket of his jacket. He still wasn’t looking at her.
“What were your impressions of the interview?” Trent asked.
She didn’t want to think about it, but she had to. “I’m glad it’s over. I learned that Davina was sending Norm nasty texts that night. That caught me off guard. But otherwise, it was fine until I returned to my car. Byron Ballystock came out and forced me to return to the station. I tried to get out of it, and he said he could come by my apartment later, because he’s often in the area.”
“Fuck,” Raphael said, breaking his silence. His cool blue eyes turned her way. “Were you able to turn the recording back on?”
“I hadn’t turned it off in the first place. He made threats, and that’ll be on there. You can have him arrested—”
“Not based on an illegal recording,” Trent said with a weary smile. “He’s been throwing his weight around since the night Norm disappeared. I’m not worried about it.”
“He says he knows the three of you went to see Norm that night,” Maisie said.
Both men looked at her sharply.
“What was your response?” Trent asked.
“I… don’t remember exactly,” she confessed. “I was kinda freaking out. And…” She trailed off. They would hear it all on the recording anyway.
Trent had pulled out his phone and was tapping furiously on the screen.
The limo slowed, then made a sharp turn and got onto the highway, heading south.
Maisie’s heart pounded a little harder. “Where are we going?”
“To wait for Ethan,” Trent said. “Then we’ll listen to the recording and re-examine our options.”
From the tone of his voice, Maisie knew things were even worse than she’d feared.
“Why are we bringing her?” Raphael asked, detached, like they were discussing a stray dog who had wandered up to them on the street.
Something inside of her squeezed, like she was being bunched up into a ball from the inside.
“I’m sorry,” she said, on the verge of tears. “I didn’t believe you guys were lying—”
“Well,” Raphael said, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his tailored pants, “clearly that’s not true, because you did believe it. And when you say ‘you guys’, that’s not accurate, either, is it?”
“What do you mean?” she whispered, afraid of the answer but knowing she had to ask.
“You looked at the three of us and figured that if one of us was a cheating, lying piece of scum, it was probably me.” Raphael leveled a penetrating gaze at her.
She’d hurt him.
She hadn’t thought she had the power to hurt him. The realization left her stunned, speechless.
“Raphael,” Trent said. “Cut her some slack. Ballystock is a seasoned investigator, and Maisie was under a lot of stress.”
There was a tone to his voice that immediately put Maisie on alert. Sure, his words sounded like he was taking her side, but uneasiness worked on her nerves, unspooling her composure. Her bosses almost always presented a unified front.
A muscle in Raphael’s jaw tightened.
Maisie slipped onto the limousine’s carpeted floor. With a little whimper, she crawled toward him, then sat back, her knees spread as wide as her tight skirt would allow, her hands resting palms-up on her thighs, and her shoulders back. It was the submissive pose Trent had taught her.
“Sir, I fucked up. I know I did. You’ve never given me any reason to doubt you.”
His eyes slowly lowered to hers. “No, I haven’t.”
The words pierced her soul.
“Please, sir, let me make it up to you.”
6
“What do you have in mind?” Raphael asked.
He didn’t seem terribly interested in her response.
Maisie glanced at Trent, whose expression was about as readable as a closed book.
“Whatever pleases you, sir. I would…” She swallowed as arousal mixed with her relief. What could she possibly offer? “If you like, I can suck your cock.”
“Come closer.” Raphael tapped his hand once on his thigh, making a dull sound.
She shuffled forward until his knees were pressing against her chest and she could go no farther.
Her heart beat a ragged tattoo as she looked up at Raphael’s handsome face.
His feature
s were so perfect, he bordered on being beautiful. Or he would have, if not for the harsh, dominant expression in his blue eyes.
“I’ve decided to accept your offer of penance,” he said. “Corporal punishment is the best way to teach you this lesson. I want you bent over my lap.”
Smirking lightly, Trent slid onto the seat next to him.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered as tears of gratitude filled her eyes. “Thank you. Which way should I face?”
Trent’s smirk morphed into a smile that made the pattering of her heart accelerate. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, reached inside, and pulled out his enormous erection. The smooth, shiny head made her mouth water.
“You insulted me,” Raphael said, “and you put Trent in an awkward position. Do you see an opportunity to make it up to him?”
“Yes, sir,” she said in a voice quivering with need.
She climbed onto the seat and dutifully draped herself across Raphael’s lap.
His erection was an uncomfortable bump under her, pinned against her hip bone, jabbing into the softness of her stomach.
Her face hovered inches away from Trent’s cock. Damn, it was a thing of beauty. The faintest traces of sandalwood soap reached her nose.
Her legs stretched out awkwardly behind her, and her feet dangled over the edge of the seat. Somehow, her high heels had remained in place.
Trent squeezed his shaft. The tip seemed to darken.
“You’re going to suck me dry,” he said.
He ran both his hands over her mass of curls, gathering them, then lifting them away from her face. The makeshift ponytail was easily managed with one hand.
A few quick jerks further proved that he had complete control over her head.
His other hand dropped back to his cock.
“Open,” he said, then directed the tip to her mouth and pressed the head of his cock between her lips.
She whimpered, a soft, feminine sigh.
“Take me into your mouth,” he ordered. He began lowering her onto the thick thing. “Suck.”
When a few inches were inside her mouth, he tightened his grip on her hair, preventing her from going deeper. She inhaled the musky scent of him and wished he would allow her to move.
The interior of the limo was quiet—it had pulled over, though Maisie didn’t know when—but the occasional honking of a horn, plus the rumbling sounds of other vehicles as they rushed past, told her they were still on or near the highway.
Raphael touched the backs of her knees, and she flinched, which made Trent’s cock pulse. His heartbeat throbbed against her tongue.
“Your body is perfect,” Raphael murmured as he began to knead the fleshy part of her lower thigh. The strength and heat of his hands made her yearn for his cock inside her.
“She hasn’t received a lesson in several days,” Trent said. “When we decided to take her as our submissive, it was with the understanding that we would train her in our ways.”
“You’re right, of course,” Raphael said in his deep growl.
His hands were working their way up. Now at mid-thigh. Kneading hard through her tight skirt. Even though her legs weren’t exactly spread, Raphael was having no trouble going where he wanted. Apparently he’d changed his mind about that spanking—he was more interested in squeezing and groping.
What would he do when he reached her pussy? Fuck her with his finger?
Stroke her clit?
Or would he kneel on the seat and shove his cock into her slick center?
She began to wiggle her hips in anticipation.
“Give me a hand with her clothes,” Raphael said.
“Hold my cock where it is,” Trent ordered her, warning in his voice, and she tightened her lips on the pulsing shaft.
Trent released her hair, and then the two men were pulling up her skirt.
The bottom of the skirt was never meant to slide up over the hips, and Maisie whimpered as the unyielding hem bit into her flesh. She could imagine how ridiculous she looked.
“Fuck it,” Raphael murmured. The sound of rending fabric ripped through the air.
Maisie gasped, and Trent took advantage of her shock to jam his cock another few inches into her mouth. His thick tool was now in her throat, blocking her airway.
She felt her face getting hot because of the lack of oxygen.
“You’ve always said you want us to take you while you struggle and resist,” Raphael said. “When Ethan gets here, we’re going to find out if you meant that. If you’re smart, you’ll do everything you can to change our minds.”
7
It was impossible for Maisie to breathe with Raphael’s erection jabbing into her belly and Trent’s cock down her throat.
Trent wasn’t even all the way inside yet; heaven help her, but there were still a few inches to go. She felt like she’d been caught doing something dirty, and now she was stuck on his shaft, frozen in place and hoping no one would notice.
Saliva was trickling from where her lips wrapped around his girth, and she felt slobbery and gross. She tried to pull her hair out of the way, but Trent slapped at her hands.
They wanted her desperate, in a state of disarray.
Raphael jerked the remnants of her skirt higher.
“Look at that ass,” he said, and gave it an enthusiastic slap. Her body shuddered, inside and out. “Give me your belt, Trent.”
Belt? They wouldn’t…
She couldn’t protest, not with her mouth full.
Trent rocked her to the side, pushing her head a bit away, but he remained inside her.
She gulped down as much air as she could.
There was a metallic clinking sound as he jerked at the belt buckle, then he raised his hips—Maisie lifting with him—and a moment later the belt whooshed free.
“Thanks.”
The heat of Raphael’s hand vanished from her ass. She could hear that he was doing something, but with her damned hair all over the place, she couldn’t see.
“Earlier today,” Trent said, “you challenged us. Your attitude was unacceptable, and your tone was rude. If you had voiced your concerns maturely, you wouldn’t be here right now. You comported yourself like a spoiled child.”
“I’m sorry,” she tried to say, but not only was speaking impossible, Trent was feeding her every swollen inch he’d just taken away.
“Apologies have their place,” Trent said quietly. “The important thing is to correct the behavior. We’re your superiors, Maisie. We take care of you. We look after you. And in return, we expect to be treated with deference and respect.”
He lifted her up by the shoulders. The tip of his cock remained in her mouth, but at least she could breathe again.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she tried to say, careful not to accidentally bite him or scrape him with her teeth.
“Of course you are,” Raphael said.
At some point he must have folded the belt in half, and he tapped the curve of her buttock with the doubled length.
“However, your regret is from fear. It’s not true regret. This is an opportunity to learn to serve us better. Now, we’re going to do what we will, and we’ll continue until we’re satisfied.”
She squeezed her eyes closed.
Trent murmured something to Raphael, who said, “That’s a good idea. Maisie, I want you to put your hands on your head. Get your hair out of your face. It’s better if you can see a little of what’s happening.”
Her fingers squeezed tight in her long, silky curls. Trent began to reclaim his position in her mouth. Raphael tapped her ass lightly with the belt, then smoothed his hand over her buttocks.
“You will not speak to us with anything less than respect,” Raphael said, and the belt cracked sharply against her skin.
Maisie’s buttocks tightened, and her head flew up.
Trent shoved her down again.
A wide stripe of heat throbbed across her ass. The throbbing was reflected and amplified in her lips and mouth.
After a
moment, she realized that the throbbing was from Trent’s cock, swollen to its fullest size.
Raphael had hit her one time, and it had made Trent this hard. The discomfort of Raphael’s cock under her stomach was also greater.
These men truly enjoyed hurting her.
The shiver that ran through Maisie’s body was more like a small earthquake. She was moaning, wanting more.
Hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, she thought over and over.
A moment later, that was exactly what Raphael did.
Smack.
She grunted. His hand soothed.
Smack!
His hand chased the worst of the pain away, leaving her with the most unbearable ache.
Smack, smack, smack. The erotic sound echoed through the small space. Maisie was groaning on Trent’s cock, and he had taken hold of her face and was fucking her mouth, timing the thrusts with her spanking.
“You’re going to take all of me now,” Trent said. “That way I can relax and enjoy your punishment. Take a deep breath.”
He lowered her all the way down, until her lips were stretched around his shockingly thick base. The fabric of his pants was completely soaked.
Trent leaned back against the seat. Maisie couldn’t see his face, but she sensed his satisfaction with the current arrangement.
How was she going to breathe?
Smack!
She jerked and struggled, but without the use of her hands, she couldn’t move; she was impaled on Trent’s massive erection.
“Good,” Raphael growled. “My cock is so hard right now.” He rained down a volley of lashes, now not bothering to give her time to adjust. Tears gushed down Maisie’s cheeks and onto Trent’s already wet pants. Her lungs burned.
“Thirty-second break,” Raphael said.
She had never been so ashamed or so proud of herself. Her pussy was quivering, and she thought she might even orgasm without them touching her sex.
Trent pulled her up a little, allowed her to breathe, then forced her back down again.
And she waited for the spanking to continue.
This time it was Raphael’s hand, his broad palm connecting hard with her skin. She lurched forward a couple of inches, but Trent’s cock was deeply embedded. It pulsed in her mouth and throat, and she sensed he was very close to orgasm.
Willful Violation (Lawyers Behaving Badly Book 3) Page 3
