by M. A. Ellis
“But you know what I like.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body into him, needing to feel the warmth he offered.
She heard the other man walking toward them, but before she could move, his big body was blocking her retreat. He leaned in, heat radiating against her back as he placed his mouth close to her ear.
“You two think you know what you want. Together, the three of us, we’re going to find out what you need.”
Kelsey shivered as his warm breath drifted over her neck.
“It’ll be that hot,” he replied. “That hot and so much more.”
It was his turn to take her by the arms and spin her around. She was glad when Smith snaked his arm over her stomach and pulled her back against his hard body. Jealousy she wasn’t a fan of, but possessive touches, that was something any woman could appreciate.
“Now, Smith and I are going to take a little walk. I want you to get something in your stomach and if you’re not okay with what you’re wearing getting ruined, then go change. By the time we get back, you’ll be in a submissive pose on the oversized chair. Do you understand what I mean?”
“No, Sir.” The words slipped from her mouth and she stared at him, slack jawed.
“Very nice,” he acknowledged. “A submissive pose is you kneeling, sitting back on your legs, your hands on your thighs, palms up. Smith?”
The man swung his arm in a grand gesture toward the sliding glass door and without another look in her direction Smith led him onto the deck and down the stairs. Kelsey waited long enough to realize they were moving toward the front of the house before she jumped into action. She was starving, so first things first. In less than a minute she had a pan on the stove and was scrambling two eggs. She glanced down at her attire as she popped a slice of wheat bread in the toaster. The tank top was old and the thong wasn’t. But it would stay because she knew how much Smith liked the white cotton. She teased that it was inbred. That and his thing for sweet tea.
A thrill of excitement replaced the apprehension she’d felt just moments before. When she was alone, the crazy stuff always seemed like a good idea. What kind of things did Vinnie have in mind? It obviously involved ripping her clothes from her body. A jolt of lust shot from her pussy straight to her nipples. Would it be so torturous that she’d have to use her safe word? Worse yet, what if she became pissed at the way he was teaching Smith to treat her and just blurted out the word to stop him?
She’d seen enough on-screen verbal and physical humiliation to know that wasn’t her thing. It might teach some discipline, but to her it reeked of servitude and that didn’t make her horny in the least. She should have told Smith that. But she couldn’t imagine him allowing anyone to call her a whore or a slut. And someone wiping the bathroom floor with her hair as a mop? Not in this lifetime.
And what if part of Vinnie’s tutorial included him fucking her. Would Smith be okay with that? At one time, she wouldn’t have thought so, but now she wasn’t so sure. But one thing was certain, there was no turning back now. Too many wheels were in motion. Smith had gone to way more effort than she had.
“Holy fuck.” Kelsey dropped the spatula and raced to the office to grab her cell. With everything she’d been bombarded with this morning, she’d forgotten about her plan to surprise Smith. She needed to call and cancel that right now. She rushed back into the kitchen, phone to her ear, and got the eggs on a plate, cursing when she heard Bella’s peppy I’m-away-from-my-phone message. It seemed like forever until the beep.
“Hey, it’s Kelsey. From Book Club.”
Nice, like there’s more than one person calling her to cancel a threesome.
“Listen, something’s come up and we don’t need to get together. I know. Short notice and all, but I’m sorry. Um—actually—I don’t think my plan is going to work anyhow. I’m sure you’ll pick this up before three o’clock and you can try to call back and leave a message. I might not be able to answer but leave one anyhow. Take care. Talk to you next week. Bye.”
Kelsey disconnected and put the phone on the counter. If she had a chance, she’d try Bella again. If she couldn’t, and Bella didn’t get the message, then what? Maybe she should call the library. She didn’t know a whole lot about her, but the fact she was a voracious reader was evident. There might be a chance she was lounging in one of the comfy chairs with the latest psychological thriller propped on her chest.
“Fuck it,” Kelsey said aloud. She grabbed her plate and started eating. Three o’clock was a long way away.
* * * * *
“Can I say one thing?” Chris asked as soon as they were down the steps and rounded the corner of the house.
“You can say anything you want, Vinnie.”
“Sweet ottoman.”
“Thanks,” Smith replied, walking in front of Chris as he led him toward the driveway. He’d been expecting a remark that had to do with Kelsey’s ass. Although, in a way, Kelsey and that ottoman went hand in hand.
“What do you peg it at? I’m thinking late 1800s.The shape of the legs threw me.”
“Pretty damn close.” Smith stopped and turned around, surprised he knew anything about antiques. “You telling me you’re into whips and chains and Wedgewood?”
“I always had good taste and you know it,” Chris said, slapping Smith in the chest. “I have to admit, I was pretty shocked to see your wife on something that rare. One good squirting incident and that velvet would be ruined. Where’d you find it?”
“A place on Royal. Pretty solid documentation. It was in one of the palaces in Storeyville. And squirting isn’t an issue.”
“Seriously? On both fronts. Prostitute chic and a no-splash zone?”
There’s the frat boy mentality I knew he still had in him.
“I shit you not,” Smith said, purposely using a phrase from the past, which had been one of Chris’s favorites.
“Hell. You always had a wicked good memory. It’s good to see you in person, man. And just about any woman can gush. You just need the right tool for the job. And the right angle.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” Smith ignored the rest of Chris’s sentence. “If I don’t have time to thank you later—”
“Because you’ll be too busy banging your wife? Who is way hotter than you deserve, by the way—”
“I appreciate you helping me out.”
“That’s what being brothers is about, right? I wouldn’t have the bar if it weren’t for Larry helping me out with the zoning commission. You remember him?”
Smith shook his head and leaned against the trunk of Kelsey’s VW.
“I think you’d already graduated when he pledged.” Chris mirrored Smith’s position. They both stared across the private road that connected this stretch of beach to the mainland. Smith watched a turtle slowly making his way across the asphalt. He didn’t know what Chris was staring at.
Time for the questions.
“You get a lot of our brothers who call you up? Tell you they need help with your—vocational expertise?”
“You mean call and ask me to come over and throw a ball gag in their wives’ mouths? No, but I like ‘vocational expertise’. That southern gentility can make shit sound like sunshine.”
“You’re not banging Kelsey.” Smith couldn’t keep the warning tone out of his voice. He shifted his weight and stood up straighter.
“Not planning on it, so relax, bro. But what if she begs for it. What if she looks me right in the eye and tells me she wants my cock. How’re you going to handle that?”
Smith clenched his jaw. He’d thought about that plenty. And he’d come to the conclusion he probably wouldn’t handle it well. “You’re not fucking my wife.”
“That’s a start now, isn’t it? You’re getting graphic. Calling a fuck a fuck. It won’t be making love, that’s for damn sure. Not this time, but if you’re as smart as you used to be, you’ll learn pretty damn quick that play is the perfect precursor to the real deal. Putting a woman—or a man for that matter
—through the paces is psychological. And that can be taken to levels so high you’ll feel as if your heart is going to burst from the sheer force of the connection you have with the other person.
“Your girl isn’t looking for that right now, but as a friend, I’m urging you to explore that somewhere down the road. I’ve got no doubt you’ve got what it takes to dominate her every now and again. She’s a spitfire, I can tell that. They need someone to lift their burden from them. That feeling as if they need to be in control 24/7.”
“All I’m looking for is getting our sex life back to where it was. It’s totally fucked up right now. If something doesn’t happen…”
“Oh, something’s going to happen, man. I promise you that. You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with re-evaluating how to keep things hot when you’ve got careers and stress and life in general getting in the way.” Chris gave him a shoulder bump of male solidarity and Smith shot him a sideways glance.
“Really? The blogging czar of MySecretMaster has unrest on the sexual home front?” Smith’s laugh conveyed his doubt.
“You don’t believe me?” Chris asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He turned and faced Smith.
“Doing what you do, you’re telling me you’re in a committed relationship?”
“I am. Have been for nearly two years.”
“And she’s okay with you being surrounded by naked women who, according to you, are probably begging you to take them up the ass.”
“Hey, I never mentioned anal and lose that condescending tone. You bringing it up tells me a little something about how you’d like to get your freak on, though.” He did the Blutarski eyebrow raise and Smith shook his head. “Getting back to jealous women, as long as you communicate like a motherfucker and keep them satisfied, you’d be amazed at how understanding they can be. If they truly love you.”
“And your woman truly loves your ugly ass?”
“My ugly ass, my small business owner debt, my new do.” Chris buffed his bald head with his hand and smiled. “But we have our moments of getting so caught up in work that we go days without sex.”
“Days, huh? You poor bastard,” Smith raised his hands to his head and rubbed his temples. They should end the conversation right now. They weren’t comparing apples to apples.
“Hey. It’s all relative. The point being, we’re all responsible for the changes that take place. The key is to recognize them and do something about it. I think you’ve proved the depth of your commitment by not just calling me, but going to the effort to find someone who actually offers constructive guidance.”
Smith couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped his lips. “Thank you, Mother Theresa of the bound and infirmed.”
Chris returned his laughter. “I’m just glad you didn’t drag her off to some random swingers club. That’s not what she needs.”
“And what do you think she needs?” There it was. The question of the day. And it had only taken them fifteen minutes to get to it.
“A crotch rope, some nipple clamps and a riding crop for starters.”
Smith held his gaze. Chris was serious. “Three strikes there,” Smith said.
“Not to worry. I’m a full-service Dom. I’ll leave the toys.”
Smith pushed himself away from the car and offered his hand. “Thanks, Chris. I really do appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said, taking Smith’s hand then pulling him in for a bro hug. “You haven’t gotten the bill.”
Chapter Four
Kelsey positioned herself on the chair and listened. She could hear their voices in the distance. Was Smith actually laughing? How the hell was he going to be stern and dominant if he was yucking it up? Him smiling, looking at her with that lopsided good-old-boy grin? That wasn’t going to work. He needed to be serious.
Omygod, girl. Listen to yourself critiquing him. You should be focused on whether you’re in the right position. Of just how intense this is going to be.
The thought sent a kick to her heart. Liquid warmth spread through her belly and down her thighs. She closed her eyes and listened harder. They’d quit talking but she heard movement on the deck stairs. Should she leave her eyes shut? Would that look more submissive?
The footsteps grew closer and Kelsey licked her lips. With each soft thump, thump, thump her nerves stretched a little tighter. A fidgetiness she couldn’t control took over and her eyes shot open in time to see Smith walk past her and make a beeline for the remote that controlled the overhead fan. He clicked it on and then eased himself into the chair across from her, not uttering a word.
Vinnie pulled the sliders closed and ignored her as well. She watched as he walked up to the kitchen counter and grabbed a tall stool with one hand. On his way into the living room he snagged his sprayer with the other. The secret of the canister was about to be revealed and Kelsey leaned forward on the chair.
He unscrewed the top and set the lid aside before tilting the sprayer downward and spilling the contents. Something metallic clinked against the sides as it rolled down the inside of the cylinder. A set of nipple clamps tumbled onto the top of the ottoman. A flush of heat washed over Kelsey’s breasts and her underarms began to sweat. They slid into one of the indentations in the ancient piece of furniture. A small green satin pouch followed the same path, hiding the clamps from her view. Desire, full and heavy, migrated to her pussy. She wanted to know what was in the pouch. Knew he’d make her wait to find out.
Thick fingers wrapped around the canister and gave it a quick shake. The action forced a short flogger and a solid black vibrator with a bulbous head through the opening. Kelsey studied the flogger closely trying to determine what the odd-colored strands were made of. They weren’t leather. She stole a quick look at the men. Both were focused on the items and her gaze returned to the vibrator. She’d been to an unending parade of toy parties but didn’t have one like that. But she’d seen the effect they had on women in the videos. They were standard instruments of orgasm denial.
Kelsey shifted her hips, hoping they wouldn’t notice. Her clit was beginning to throb. The man reached his fingers inside the sprayer. Something had gotten stuck and he was obviously trying to release it. He pulled his hand away, the leather loop he’d caught with his fingers giving way to the long braided shaft and eventually the flat flap of a crop.
“It’s like a magician’s hat, for shit’s sake,” she said, unable to stand the silence of the room and unnerved by what he’d produced. “How much more can you have in there?”
He reached down and undid the pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out three small bundles of tightly wrapped rope.
“Kelsey.”
The man said her name with such sharpness she jerked her head in his direction. It was the first time he’d actually addressed her by her name.
“I know you’re nervous and you compensate with wit and sarcasm but that stops. Right now.”
Kelsey sucked in a deep breath to prevent herself from replying. She was nervous, but he didn’t have to point that out, didn’t have to scold her.
Of course he does. That’s part of the mind game.
“I’m not going to make this anything more than a lesson in compliance for you and an introduction of technique for Smith. I’m not going to expect you to drop to your knees and lick my boots or call me Master.” He walked close enough to the chair that she had to tilt her head backward to look in his eyes. “My name’s Chris, by the way.”
He extended his hand and she automatically took it. He had a firm handshake but his fingers were gone before she could curl her fingers around his palm.
“I am going to demand respect, however. ‘Yes Sir’ and ‘no Sir’ should be the only words coming out of your mouth. Other than ‘Please, may I come, Sir’.”
Holy shit. This was it. Her skin felt as if it were shrinking, her entire body clenching as it zeroed in on one spot. Her pussy.
“You’ll use the safe word ‘red’. You won’t need ‘yellow’ bec
ause this isn’t about pushing your limits. This is about exploration and eventually, you’ll be the one responsible for reaching personal satisfaction.”
Omygod. Did he intend to make her work herself to orgasm? Even if he ordered it, she didn’t think she could do that anymore.
“You won’t be so entrenched in the submissiveness that you’ll allow me to make decisions for you. I’ll work you slow, so what I’m doing to you will feel uncomfortable at first and then move into a more intense arena. You know better than anyone how much discomfort you want to tolerate. Where that line between pleasure and pain is. If that gets too much for you to handle, you’ll use your safe word. Understand?”
“Yes.” Kelsey was considering everything he’d said when she realized she forgot the respect part. “Sir,” she added quickly and received a barely perceivable nod in return.
“Your husband and I have worked out a system. He won’t demand you address him as such. But under no circumstances are you to take that to mean you can order him around. If you do, playtime is over.”
Playtime? His tone wasn’t playful at all and moisture formed above her upper lip.
“Undo the ties from those two legs.” He pointed at the far end of the ottoman and Smith went to work. He handed Chris the cuffs then walked around the ottoman until he was directly across from the man.
Kelsey felt the power that radiated between them and closed her eyes. She’d have to find a way not to concentrate on how virile her husband looked. He hadn’t changed clothes, he was still wearing his jeans and nothing else, but he seemed excessively hotter than he had that morning. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his pecs and Kelsey wondered, if she asked nicely, if he would let her trail her lips over the wetness and then venture a little lower.
With quick efficient movements Chris wrapped the restraints snug around her wrists. “How sensitive are your nipples?”
Kelsey’s mouth went dry. Weren’t there only three things she was allowed to say? He took a step toward her and she instinctively crossed her arms over her breasts. Her mind screamed for her to put her hands back down, but it was too late.
