Suit and Tied

by Tymber Dalton

  “That’s it, baby,” he encouraged. “You know what your Sir likes.”

  Yes, she did. Going on twenty-five years and still frisky with each other, obviously they were doing something right.

  Considering the hell she’d survived that finally triggered him getting them to this point, they’d earned this time of their lives.

  His hands stroked up and down her thighs. “Someone ready to be a good girl for me now?”

  She nodded, her lower lip caught under her teeth and looking sexy as hell.

  Over on the bench, Tony was putting some nice marks up and down Shayla’s ass. Those two were perfect together, and he loved watching them scene almost as much as he loved watching Landry top Cris.

  Ross was a sadist in his own right, but not to Landry’s level, because Loren wasn’t able to take quite that much.

  But it was always fun to watch another sadist at play.

  He lifted Loren’s sundress up and off her, dropping the dress onto the couch and revealing her to be totally naked underneath. She’d needed to wrap herself in one of the fleece throws earlier, because it’d been chilly in there when they’d first gotten started. Now, it was nearly perfect.

  He cupped her breasts in his hands and ran the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, loving the way she shivered with pleasure under his hands. He lightly tugged on her nipple rings, noting the way she softly gasped and how, around his cock, her pussy fluttered in response.

  “Someone likes that, don’t they?”

  She draped her arms around his neck. “Yes, Sir.”

  With every sweet roll of her hips, her hot pussy worked his cock and he savored it. He continued teasing her nipples, rolling them in his fingers, tugging her nipple rings, working her up in all the ways he knew stoked her fires, but still not touching her clit.

  He wanted her to work for it.

  Beg him for it.

  He laid his head back against the couch, watching her, watching Tony with Shayla—watching their friends watching Tony.

  Gilo and Abbey stood off to the side, Abbey in front of him, and Gilo’s hand skimmed down the back of Abbey’s skirt, coming up under the hem. She leaned against him, her head tipped onto his shoulder, and Gilo’s arm moved around to her front, between her legs. His other arm circled her waist, holding her firmly against him.

  Tricky man.

  Another pair of friends he loved watching play. Never got boring, that was for sure. Who could ever tell what mode they’d be in when they first started out? Not uncommon for them to switch mid-scene, either.

  Ross’ gaze swiveled back up, onto Loren’s. She smiled down at him, her eyes slightly narrowed. “Perv.”

  “You married me. You should know.”

  She leaned in and kissed him, the seam of her lips parting for him when he traced his tongue along it. Full access—granted.

  Never got old. None of it. This, her—what they were doing here today. Not specifically this, but being kinky in general. It was good having friends in the lifestyle, who understood and didn’t judge what they did. Didn’t have to explain to them or feel like they had to hide who they were.

  Hey, he was the dude whose activities made his wife add Christmas trees and permanent markers to her hard-limit list. He was practically a legend among their friends for his wacky rigging ideas. He loved being a good lesson of a bad example…or something like that.

  Slowly, Ross trailed his hands down her body, so he could play with her clit, roll it between his fingers while they kissed. He loved the way he could feel how her breath caught in her throat, the slight hitch that perfectly corresponded with the flutter in her pussy that vibrated right through his cock.

  Every wonderful little sign that she was all his and willing to let him use her however he wanted.

  He slowly pinched her clit between his thumb and fingers, squeezing harder, just until the whine started, the one he knew meant almost too much/just a little harder, please, Sir.

  That achingly delicate conundrum, where he could totally shut off her thinking brain for a little while.

  Where the only thing on her mind was him and them and what they were doing. No thoughts about the past or the dark nightmare she survived. No thoughts about how he made things right for her, as right as he could.

  Some things could never be made completely right.

  He’d seen the melancholy in her eyes as she’d watched Essie from the side, the way Essie’s three men were loving, doting partners. Their second child on the way.

  The one thing he couldn’t give her, no matter how much they’d wanted it, no matter how much money he made.

  Some things, money couldn’t buy.

  That meant they played, he showed her his love, he coaxed her demons into playing with his, or, at the very least, tolerating them.

  He hadn’t managed to scare her off so far.

  Thank god.

  * * * *

  Loren whined as Ross started pinching her clit. The slight bite of pain, combined with how the way she was riding him made him tug on it, was about to send her right over the edge.

  She opened her eyes and looked into his brown eyes. Right now, this close to the edge, they were the dark brown of coffee, of molasses, of mystery and mischief.

  “Please, Sir,” she whispered against his mouth.

  The constant game with him, the balance, walking that line with him. If she tipped over without permission, he might punish her for fun.

  The fun kind of punishment, punishment that always left her dripping wet and begging for him, so it wasn’t like there were any losers in that arrangement.

  “Please what, baby?”

  “May I please come?” She gasped as he tugged on her clit a little more firmly, driving her dangerously close to the edge.

  And he knew it. Of course he did. He knew her body better than she did, she was pretty much convinced of that.

  “I don’t know. Have you been a good girl?” More tugging, rolling her clit between his fingers, the evil bastard, making her squirm and gasp and bite down on the inside of her lip to hold back.

  “Yes, Sir. I’ve been a very good girl this week.”

  His other hand started raking up and down her thigh, nails digging in just enough with the sweet, aching pain that always took her harder down into pleasure, when he finally granted it.

  “Have you, now?” He stared up into her eyes, the evil gleam even stronger now than before.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Someone’s going to need to be a good girl if I let them come and clean Sir’s cock when she’s finished.”

  Somehow, she managed not to come. “Yes, Sir. I will.”

  He let out a melodramatic sigh. “Ooookay. I suppose you may come.”

  Wasn’t any supposition about it—he started rolling her clit between his fingers again and dug the nails of his other hand into her flesh.

  Bam. She leaned in to kiss him while she came, letting him suck every cry from her soul as she rode his hand, his cock, let his darkness envelop her and sweep her away to that delicious place their love had always lain bare between them.

  “Good girl,” he said when she finished. He grabbed her hips and fucked her, grinding his cock into her and quickly joining her there. This reminded her of all the times he’d locked his office door and fucked her right there on his desk, or she’d ridden him in his office chair.

  Until they broke one and nearly sent themselves to the hospital.

  Fortunately, he owned his practice then and didn’t need to explain to anyone what happened, because she was the office manager and did the shopping.

  One new chair, coming up.

  Whoops.

  Once she knew he’d finished coming, she didn’t need any further orders to climb off him, get down on her knees between his thighs, and suck his cock clean. As she did, he smiled down at her and stroked her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. When she finished, she tucked him back in and zipped him up, climbing up his body to kiss him.

 
“Better?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Always better with You, Sir.”

  Chapter Seven

  Abbey and Eliza had changed out of their outfits and into something more comfortable. And Abbey had finally ditched the wig, too, which made her feel better. She definitely felt glad for the chance to change, since Gilo had fingered her while they stood there and watched the others play. She’d barely held on to enough Ma’am mode—just a hair—to convince him to wait until they got home to finish wearing each other completely out.

  Fortunately, Gilo hadn’t been upset, just the playfully irritated kind of mood that meant she knew he’d wait, but when he got his, he’d probably add a little something-something to it for her in payback.

  Then she’d get him back next time.

  And so the wheels of the bus rolled…right over them.

  Repeatedly.

  Which was exactly how they both liked it, make no mistake.

  The thing was, she knew once he dropped her into full-on girl mode, she wasn’t going to want to go to dinner or do anything, and she damn well knew it. As tired as she felt today, she didn’t want to stretch herself too thin.

  She felt a little badly about shutting Gilo down over not doing more here, but…

  It’d be different if they were here alone. It wasn’t the thought of doing stuff in front of their friends, because god knew they’d already done plenty. It wasn’t that she was bashful, either.

  Again, that ship had sailed.

  Repeatedly.

  It was just…well, with the lights up, and no music like they usually had—Cali was playing Steely Dan today, for fuck’s sake, how was she supposed to play to that? That was music to fuck by, not music to scene by.

  And that was it, she supposed. When she and Gilo fucked, she wanted it to be them. Or, at least not on what felt like a stage. Unlike Landry, she wasn’t interested in a crowd around them to perform, so to speak. Not for play or for sex.

  Now, if it was dark in there, then yeah, maybe. But with the skylights overhead, even if the lights were off it’d still be brighter than hell in there right now.

  Gilo went to change back into his suit and hit the bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, he’d combed his hair, buttoned his shirt, tied his tie…

  Rwar!

  From the smirk he wore, she knew damn well he knew what he was doing to her right now.

  “What’s wrong, hmm?” he teased when he returned to her.

  “Nothing.”

  He arched an eyebrow at her and for a moment, she thought about flipping back into full-on Ma’am mode, except he would have seen right through it and come on even stronger the next time.

  “Nothing, Sir,” she said.

  “That’s better.” He leaned in for a kiss, then paused. “You all right, Ab?”

  “Yeah, just tired. It was a long, stressful week at work. I’m thinking maybe calling in Monday. Just finished a round of quarterly reports, and my fucking computer died on me. IT was able to get my reports back, but I lost some data and had to go through everything again.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He gently squeezed her hands. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  She squeezed back. “I was too happy to be home last night, and you’d had a crappy week, too.”

  He pulled her in for a hug, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “That’s okay, baby. Sir will make it all better for you when we get home.”

  She sighed, happy. “After dinner. I want eggplant parm.”

  He snorted. “All right, we’ll go to dinner. Just be advised someone’s going to be frisky later.”

  “I know. I’ll risk it.”

  He shrugged. “It’s your ass.”

  She smiled. “Well, technically it’s yours tonight.”

  He brightened. “Oooh, true.”

  * * * *

  Skye didn’t know what kind of play Axel had in mind when he caught her by the hand and led her through to the other side. He wasn’t as hard-core a sadist as some of the others, which was okay, because he’d started figuring things out for himself.

  They’d dated in high school, but then life took them separate ways. By the time they found each other again when she moved back to Sarasota following her divorce, she’d already had a pretty extensive background in BDSM and knew darn well that she wouldn’t be happy with a vanilla guy.

  Fortunately for her, Axel had decided to keep trying past their rocky start and challenge himself. Because he’d grown more worried about losing her again than he was about giving her what she needed from him.

  Thankfully, they’d found their happy medium.

  He led her over to the section of MMA mats they kept down in the back for people wanting to do primal play, or tie rope, or whatever. He caught the fleece throw she was wearing around her shoulders and spread it out on the floor, then pointed.

  She slipped off her shoes and started to get down on the mats when he cleared his throat, and she knew.

  Pulses of need washed through her. She pulled her shirt off, and her shorts, wondering if he wanted it all.

  Since he stood there, waiting, eyebrow arched, she realized he meant naked, so she finished stripping and waited for instructions.

  He reached into his blazer and withdrew the custom knife Ev had made for him, the one he only used with her for knife play, and held it up with a playful smile.

  Skye practically threw herself at the mats and felt eager and willing for whatever he wanted to do.

  Whenever he took the lead like this, she always followed. It’d scared her how close they came to not making it before he finally took to heart the warnings Tilly and Landry gave him. He’d pushed himself to move past his fear and find the things he enjoyed doing with her, to take charge, instead of being immobilized by panicking that he’d do something wrong, or that he was wrong for wanting to do them in the first place.

  She hadn’t needed him to be as sadistic as Landry, just to take charge and be him.

  And he’d done that beautifully.

  She heard him kick off his shoes, but he was still fully dressed when he knelt over her legs.

  She closed her eyes, sighing as she felt the flat of the blade against her shoulder. “Hold still.”

  She’d already taken a deep breath and let it out when he started tracing shapes across her flesh with the tip of the knife. He never drew blood, just gave her that delicious sensation that would sting and itch later—especially when he went over it with rubbing alcohol—and still punted her head-first into subspace for him.

  Axel might not label himself a sadist, but Skye did, because he was. He just approached it from a different mental angle was all, very subtle and sublime and all the sweeter for it. He preferred leaving his marks on her soul, not so much in her flesh, but they were the good kind of marks, ones she was proud to bear as long as she could call herself His.

  She didn’t know how long she lay there with him drawing on her flesh with the knife, but when he set it aside, he did so where she could see it, and she was flying.

  She felt him grab her hips and nudge her up onto her hands and knees. She wasn’t sure what he was doing, at first, until he used his knees to open her thighs wider, his slacks pressed against the bare backs of her thighs.

  When she felt him reaching for his fly, it finally clicked in her brain and she nearly came right there, even before he freed his cock and slid home inside her.

  Axel was definitely not Landry in terms of this, either, so the fact that he was fucking her here and now, with their friends over on the other side…

  Well, that did make her pussy clench and sent her right over the top.

  “Good girl,” Axel said. He smacked her ass cheeks, making her gasp and squirm and beg him to fuck her.

  Own her.

  Claim her.

  His hands clamped down on her hips and another orgasm washed through her as she realized he was going to hold her down and do exactly what he wanted to do to her. He wasn’t holding back, either. This
wasn’t slow, sweet lovemaking. This was down-and-dirty fucking, every long stroke smacking home hard at the bottom of each thrust.

  That made her come even harder.

  No, she didn’t need him to be a sadist when all she needed was to belong to him, and for him to show her that.

  He was.

  He alternated fucking with bare-handed spanking, and by the time he finally finished, she’d quit counting how many times she’d come. While they lay there on the mats, his body covering hers and his cock growing soft inside her, she heard a contented sigh escape him.

  “How was that?” he asked.

  She felt for and found one of his hands and laced fingers with him, squeezing. “Fan-fucking-tastic, Sir.”

  * * * *

  Cali had no idea today was going to go as well as it did, or be so productive. When she’d first put out the call for volunteers among their…well, volunteers, she thought they’d be lucky to get a couple of people, maybe, and that she’d have to basically beg and barter with Sean and Max to put on suits and take part.

  This?

  This was like hitting the fucking jackpot.

  With several of the others helping, it didn’t take too long to put the space back together. Moving the furniture back to where it belonged took a little while. That’s where Mark and Josh, who’d both changed out of their suits and into shorts, came in handy, since their co-owned bottom, Essie, was now at home with brother number three, Ted. The men had ridden over in a separate vehicle so Essie wouldn’t be stuck there all day on her feet. Plus they’d go pick up their son from Essie’s mom, who was happy to babysit her grandson today.

  Finally, a little after four, they were finished with all the photos, everything was returned to its proper place, and the club was ready to open later.

  Cali dumped the last load of photos from her memory card into her laptop. “We appreciate this so much guys,” she said. “You have no idea.” She’d still have to go through the video, send Tilly some highlights, and do some judicious editing to hide any faces.