Willful Violation (Lawyers Behaving Badly Book 3)

by Cleo Peitsche

  The way she felt now, whenever they came, she might, too. It was crazy; she’d always had trouble reaching orgasm. But not with these men.

  Apparently, domination was what she’d needed.

  Raphael’s phone rang.

  He stopped spanking her.

  “I’m busy, Ethan.” Then he said, “Yes, we’re pulled over, right before the bridge. Maisie is fine. Her mouth is a little full. She needed it.” He paused, clearly listening.

  Maisie couldn’t hear any of what Ethan was saying, just a deep and unintelligible rumble.

  “He’ll be here in five minutes,” Raphael said, and Maisie realized he’d hung up.

  “I don’t think I can last five minutes,” Trent said. He eased her away, giving her a breather. “I can’t remember the last time I was this horny.”

  Raphael slapped her ass, then gently slid her lower body onto the floor.

  Trent was having none of that, however; he caught the sides of her face and brought her back to his cock, and she had to clumsily slide over until she was kneeling between his legs.

  Wetness had soaked her panties, her buttocks throbbed, and she was moaning with desire.

  Slowly, he began bobbing her head up and down on his shaft, working her poor mouth as if it had been designed for such use. She was vaguely aware that Raphael had taken himself out and was now gliding in closer to the action.

  Then he was kneeling on the limo’s floor, pushing Maisie back, onto her hands and knees. The remnants of her skirt still hung from her hips.

  Freed from Trent’s cock, she gulped in fresh air and used the back of one hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Her nose was running a little, too, and she felt gross.

  The entire limo smelled like sex.

  Trent lightly slapped her face, making it sting.

  “Go on,” he said impatiently. “Fuck her as hard as you want. She needs to learn this lesson. We’re doing her a kindness.”

  Her breath stuttered in her chest. Yes, fuck me hard, she thought.

  Raphael roughly shoved into her mouth.

  Not even Ethan had ever handled her so aggressively. She moaned.

  Trent groaned and pulled her back toward him. The men crowded close together.

  “Open wider,” Raphael said.

  When she did, she found two hugely swollen heads pushing over her lips, both fighting for depth.

  They were too big for her to accommodate, however. Inspired, she grabbed both shafts in her hands and worked on them eagerly, pumping with her fists, swallowing this head, then the other, back and forth, over and over.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  She could sense their frustration, and she understood because she was frustrated, too. She wanted nothing more than to please both of them fully.

  And there was an easy solution for that, which was for one of them to fuck her pussy or her ass, but neither seemed interested.

  Maybe they enjoyed fighting for her, pushing her around.

  Finally Trent said, “I can’t take this.”

  He flipped her onto her back, ripped down her panties, and shoved his naked cock all the way into her heat.

  “Oh, fuck,” he growled. His face was dark red, as if the blood in his veins had turned to lava.

  Maisie felt every inch of him as he hammered into her, over and over.

  Then Raphael was turning her head toward him, and again he didn’t give her time to adjust, just shoved his cock home. He pressed on the side of her face, keeping her in place, and he leveraged his hips just like he was fucking her pussy.

  It was uncomfortable, being fucked like this, her face being ground against the floor, her pussy being fucked so hard that it hurt.

  This was part of her punishment. They were proving how much they’d always held back.

  The limo was filled with the men’s desperate grunts. The vehicle was probably rocking frantically.

  Someone rapped on the window, a harsh, irritated sound.

  “Goddammit,” Trent panted.

  Maisie couldn’t see anything other than Raphael’s pants and her own hair.

  “Raphael,” Trent said. “Stop. We have company.”

  Slowly, Raphael pulled his cock from her mouth. She could feel his regret in the way his muscles were coiled tightly as he released her head.

  If she whimpered or licked him, would he lose his resolve and plunge forward yet again?

  Did she dare?

  8

  Maisie stretched forward, her lips straining for Raphael’s shaft. So close. So very close—

  “Bad girl,” he said. “You’ll be punished for that later.”

  He turned around, and Maisie sat up.

  A state trooper was pacing outside the vehicle.

  Even that fearsome sight didn’t put much of a damper on her arousal. She pulled up her panties, though.

  Trent opened the door. He had tucked himself away, but his clothing and hair were noticeably disheveled.

  He got out. A moment later, Raphael did as well, closing the door behind him.

  Maisie inched toward the window and watched with wide eyes. She couldn’t hear any of what was being said.

  All three men looked toward the rear of the limo. Maisie followed their gaze and saw that another vehicle was coming to a stop just beside the trooper’s car.

  Ethan got out, and the car sped away.

  Maisie swallowed as Ethan approached the other men.

  The four of them spoke for a moment, and then Ethan opened the door. Cooler air rushed inside.

  The trooper took a step forward. “Come on out, honey.”

  She looked down at her clothing. Her blouse was fine, if a little crumpled and damp from sweat, but Raphael had ripped her skirt so badly that if she obeyed, she would be exposed out there.

  “I can’t,” she said, her voice trembling, a hand covering her pussy in case the trooper came in after her.

  Trent bent down. His dark eyes simmered with impatience. “Come out,” he commanded.

  “My skirt.” She said it in a whisper, but Trent’s gaze dropped.

  His expression hardened. “I gave you an order, Maisie. Come out. Now.”

  If Trent wanted her to get out, she’d better do it. Maybe they were all in a lot of trouble, and it was more important for her to be out of the limo, even if her lower half was only covered by a pair of nearly sheer panties with ruined elastic.

  She whimpered in fear as she awkwardly scrambled toward the door. The vestiges of her skirt fell away.

  Trent offered her a hand, and she accepted it, allowing him to help her to the side of the road.

  She couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, so she stared at the ground.

  “Well, what do we have here?” the trooper asked. “I see you fellows have been up to your old tricks.”

  Old tricks?

  Her head flew up, and she saw that the trooper was smiling, almost laughing. He was a large and handsome man, broad of shoulder. Each of his biceps was bigger than her head. His close-cropped hair was a pale blond, as were his eyebrows.

  “Stay close to the car,” he told her. Then he said to Ethan, “Are you sharing your submissive?”

  Maisie didn’t dare look at Ethan.

  Did she want him to share her? In theory, yes…

  But if her bosses did make her service this stranger, it would also feel like a betrayal.

  “We’re not sharing,” Ethan said.

  “Then I suppose I’ll just watch,” the man said.

  Raphael stroked her cheek. She looked up into his blue eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he’d forgiven her.

  He reached inside the limo and grabbed her ruined skirt, then spread it over the ground in a motion that almost seemed chivalrous.

  “On your knees,” he said softly.

  Maisie sank gracefully to her knees. She turned her palms upright, just the way Trent had taught her.

  “Goddamn,” the trooper said. “You bastards have all the luck. Are you sure I can’t—”

 
“We’re sure,” Trent said, a harsh edge to his voice.

  Ethan unzipped his pants and pulled out his long, thick cock. It twitched slightly. “You can watch, you can jerk off if you want, but she’s ours.”

  “Understood,” the trooper said.

  “Unbutton your blouse, Maisie,” Ethan said. His voice was as intimate as if they were alone.

  She did as he asked, revealing her lace-cupped breasts.

  Taking a step forward, Ethan dragged the side of his cock over her face. He was standing almost beside her, and when he pressed his cock into her mouth, it was at an angle.

  Ethan Brennbach. The sound of his voice, the scent of him… There was nothing she wouldn’t have done to make him happy.

  Maisie started to turn her head so she could accept him properly, but then Trent was there, wanting her attention.

  And then Raphael.

  A truck rumbled by, but Maisie only barely noticed it. The limo and the trooper’s car were blocking them from the view of curious passers-by. Well, from all curious gawkers except the trooper.

  “Stick out your tongue,” Ethan ordered.

  She hastened to obey, and the men pressed in close. Together, their thick shafts presented a throbbing bouquet of erect masculinity.

  “Touch yourself,” Trent said as Raphael pressed fully into her mouth. “I want you to come over and over again.”

  Never had she imagined she’d ever get such an order.

  Almost not believing her ears, Maisie dropped a quivering hand between her legs. When her fingers touched her most sensitive flesh, she went rigid for a moment at the overwhelming sensation.

  Four men crowded around her: her three elegant bosses, and the trooper standing to her left.

  “Do me a favor and get behind her,” Ethan said. “Hold her while we fuck her mouth.”

  Maisie’s fingers moved faster and faster. Ethan’s cock, his familiar taste… She was lost. An orgasm ripped through her just as the stranger’s hands settled on her head.

  He took a tight hold, but the rest of her body jerked with bliss.

  “Another one, Maisie,” Trent growled.

  Ethan pulled back as Trent thrust forward. Maisie’s hand was slippery and wet, and she could smell the earthy, sexy scent of herself.

  She cried out. Raphael surged forward. The stranger held her in place.

  “I need her now,” Trent gasped, and Maisie’s head was turned his way moments before salty spurts jetted from his cock.

  Another orgasm surged through her as she swallowed his gift. Then Raphael was pulling her toward him as he groaned his pleasure, which only left Ethan, who hadn’t been part of that intense torture in the limo.

  Ethan was in a mood, all right. He was rock-hard and almost frenzied in his lustful pace.

  If not for the trooper holding her in place, she would have been trying to get away. Humiliating squelching noises emerged from her throat as he fucked her mouth. By the time he unleashed his load, her knees ached, her neck hurt, and her jaw felt like it was going to fall off.

  The trooper grudgingly released her. “That was fucking hot.”

  “I’m sure she’ll kneel obediently while you jerk off,” Raphael said. He was leaning against the side of the limo, watching.

  “Don’t get anything on her,” Ethan said.

  The trooper’s eyes stared down into Maisie’s. He pulled his pants and boxers to his knees and took a chokehold on his cock.

  Staring at her, he jerked it violently.

  Maisie was surprised by how much it turned her on, all the men surrounding her, watching her, and her bosses keeping her safe, protecting and guarding her for their own personal use.

  Look, but don’t touch. She felt treasured.

  She watched transfixed as the stranger’s balls drew up closer to his body. Spurts of fluid arced from his tip and splatted onto the ground.

  The trooper exhaled. “You have no idea how much control that took,” he said.

  “We’re not being stingy,” Ethan said. “She’s not some woman we picked up in the sex club.”

  “Ah,” the trooper said as he tucked away his spent cock. “A new initiate, then. Smart. You can train her exactly how you like. I need to find a good submissive, someone who craves domination and sex.”

  “But you work too much,” Ethan said. “We know. Maisie practically fell into our laps. Speaking of work, do you have what I asked for?”

  “Yup.” The trooper took one final lustful look at Maisie, then headed toward his vehicle. Ethan followed.

  “How was that?” Raphael asked. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Yes. Lots.” Especially now that he wasn’t still angry with her.

  “Did you want our friend to fuck you?” Trent asked. He looked a little… jealous?

  Maisie chewed on her lower lip, and Raphael said, “You can think about it inside the car.”

  “No,” she said. “I didn’t want him to fuck me.”

  As Raphael was helping her get in, Ethan returned. He had a folder in one hand and a blue shirt in the other.

  “Change into this,” he said to Maisie. “It’s big enough to cover what’s necessary.”

  She gave it a sniff. Clean—it smelled faintly of laundry detergent. The shirt was crisp, likely ironed, and she felt a little guilty as she changed into it.

  “Who is that guy?” she asked as the men settled into the limo. Obviously the trooper had history with her bosses.

  “An old friend,” Trent said.

  “What’s in the folder?”

  Ethan raised his eyes to her. “You know what happens to curious kittens, don’t you?”

  “They get petted and fed lots of cream?”

  He stared at her steadily, then returned to reading. The limo merged onto the road.

  Raphael was knotting his tie. “The folder is information on Byron Ballystock that might come in handy.”

  “That was fast. Byron only threatened us a couple of hours ago,” she said as she rolled up the shirt’s cuffs.

  “Incorrect,” Ethan said without looking up. “He threatened us when Norm went missing.”

  Wow. Back then, everyone had thought Norm was just in hiding for a few days. “You always cover your bases, don’t you?”

  “Always.” Raphael pulled out his phone.

  Maisie was about to ask if the trooper had dug up the dirt they’d planned to use to blackmail Norm, but Trent said, “Quiet, now. Let us concentrate.”

  His tone was gentle, but resentment tweaked her anyway. Their reasons for keeping her partially in the dark were good ones, but it only reinforced the power difference between them.

  They had money, power, connections, and knowledge.

  She had… them. And who knew how long that would last?

  Thirty minutes later, the limo was in horse country. Long, newly paved roads that rose and fell rhythmically. Green oceans of grass.

  The road they were driving down was lined with white fences surrounding picturesque pastures. Here and there, a sleek horse grazed, tail swishing.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “We’re going to my grandfather’s estate,” Raphael said, distracted. He passed the paper he was reading to Trent. “Take a look at that.”

  Trent read it, then nodded in satisfaction before passing it to Ethan.

  “Maybe you should do this stuff when I’m not here,” Maisie said.

  Ethan skimmed the paper, then returned it to Raphael. Only then did he turn his attention to Maisie.

  “You’re right,” he said. “It must be frustrating to be kept out of the loop, but if this gets out, you’ll be protected. Your fingerprints aren’t on the papers. You don’t know what they say. Where’s the ring?”

  “I have it,” Raphael said.

  “We’ll review the recording together,” Ethan said, “and then the three of us will have a meeting about how to proceed. You’re not a part of this, Maisie. It’s for your own safety.”

  9

  The
limo turned onto what seemed to be a private road. The graceful sign hanging from a post said Lattimore Meadows.

  The name sounded like a McMansion subdivision, but this was the real thing. Old money. Real power.

  A horse grazing in a nearby field raised its head as they slowly drove past. It was a beautiful animal, dapple gray.

  “Why’s that horse wearing a hood over its ears and face?” Maisie asked.

  “Flies or sun protection,” Raphael said.

  “Doesn’t it bother him that he can’t see?” She twisted in her seat.

  “It’s a fine mesh over the eyes. Do you know how to ride?”

  She shook her head. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Too bad.”

  Trent slapped him on the shoulder. “She’d rather be ridden, I think.”

  Even though Raphael smiled, he still seemed disappointed.

  The limo came to a stop in front of a mansion surrounded by majestic oak trees. Wind vibrated the leaves and ruffled the fields of grass, which extended forever in every direction.

  Trent offered Maisie his hand. It was a small gesture, but it cinched for Maisie that her earlier sins had been forgiven.

  She inhaled, pulling fresh air and the scent of hay deep into her lungs.

  When Raphael had mentioned his grandfather’s estate, Maisie had imagined something tasteful, but also old and stodgy. The white mansion couldn’t have been more than five or ten years old. It was three stories tall and sprawling, with hundreds of windowpanes and a fairy-tale-like blue shingle roof.

  It looked like the kinds of houses she used to fantasize about living in.

  Voices drifted on the wind, coming from farther up the driveway. The stables were probably back that way.

  Raphael opened the front door. “We’ll use the office in the back,” he said. “I’ll inform the staff that I’m here and to keep out of the house.”

  Trent touched her shoulder. “This way.”

  As he led her past dozens of beautiful rooms, Maisie tried not to stare. Even though the interior was minimally furnished—so much empty space—there was warmth and a homey quality to the place. It was the color scheme, she decided. All the cozy yellows and soft whites.