Bet on Ecstasy (2 page)

While both of them had numerous relationships throughout the years, some lasting longer than others, all failed miserably. Their tastes included an active sexual appetite. Smith had never met a woman who fulfilled him enough, and none of their ménage relationships had ever worked out. The women they’d been with had thought they could handle two men, but it always turned out two was just a little too much.

“Why are you members?” Kyra asked.

Simple question. Simple answer.

Together, they weren’t only solid partners in business and excelled at their work, but with a woman between them, they shone. They’d shared their fortune, success, and enjoyed sharing their women.

Smith watched as Kyra took a sip of her wine and her eyes fluttered closed, indicating she enjoyed the taste of the wine. At six hundred dollars a bottle, Smith wasn’t surprised. He sat down in the leather chair to her left, gazing over the long lines of her shapely, silky legs.

Images of them wrapped around his waist while he drove into her could be his undoing. He forced his gaze onto her face again, which was currently turning a lovely rose color under his examination.

Smith liked the effect he had on her.

He fought to remember her question and cleared his throat. “Our business is our top priority. This tends to mean our time is limited. The castle has provided a means for us to enjoy sex without involving relationships. Also, it has the highest form of privacy.” Even he heard the cold distance in his voice and saw her eyebrows rise.

Every person who joined the castle signed a waiver swearing to keep things private and not share identities to nonmembers, and everyone went through STD and AIDS testing. Smith preferred knowing his sexual partners were clean rather than having casual sex with strangers from a nightclub, and the privacy of the castle offered a sense of freedom.

Kyra took another mouthful of her wine, then with a twinkle in her eyes, tipped the glass at him. “Understandable. Privacy is something I can appreciate too.”

Woman, you are to be appreciated, and then some.

Brock chuckled at Smith, clearly reading his thoughts. He turned to Kyra. “Tell us a little something of yourself. More than the basic details in the profile we saw when we discovered you, kitten.”

The side of her mouth arched at the nickname indicating she didn’t mind, and why would she? Smith had no doubt Brock lowered his voice to inflict a straight attack on her hormones.

“I’d prefer if we kept the small talk to minimum,” she said.

Smith leaned back in his seat. He’d never met a woman who didn’t want some type of intimate connection before they had sex. Not in any of the encounters that had been arranged through the castle, or relationships out of the castle for that matter.

He lifted his chin. “All business, then?”

She drank a larger sip of her wine before she lowered the glass. “We’re not here to get to know one another, are we? We’re here to fulfill my ménage fantasy.” Her eyebrows rose higher. “That is what we agreed to, yes?”

“All action. No talking.” Brock’s grin widened as he rubbed his jawline. “Damn, kitten, you’re my type of woman.”

While Brock seemed eager and accepting of her response, Smith wasn’t so easily swayed. Women, even if they came in different colors and shapes, were still women rich with emotions. Right now, Kyra acted more like a man, void of any emotional connection. “Are you comfortable with that arrangement, Kyra?”

Her deep swallow displayed her nerves, but she sipped her wine in haste controlling the reaction. “I prefer it.”

Smith grinned at her while she shifted uneasily in her seat. He enjoyed that he unnerved her, since her presence gave him a hefty erection. Plus, she made him far more interested than he’d ever been in any woman.

While he believed she had, in fact, lied to him with her answer, he wouldn’t speculate as to why. He also wouldn’t argue it out with her either. Her emotions belonged to her. “Fair enough.”

He paused while she drank her wine again. Once he had her fixated on him, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his elbows. “It’s important you’re aware of what’s ahead of you tonight. Before you arrived, Brock and I decided to make a bet on you, if you’re agreeable.”

Suspicion darkened her eyes as she lowered her glass onto her lap. “What sort of bet?”

“Your orgasms,” Brock declared.

A blush crept over her face, yet her expression didn’t hold any wrath at such a bet, which Smith would’ve expected. She blinked. “E-excuse me?”

Brock added, “The wager is simple: orgasms for points. Whoever gains the most points from your pleasure by the end of the night wins the money.”

Her pupils dilated, and her lips arched up into a sexy smile. “Might I ask what the value of this bet is?”

“Two thousand dollars,” Smith stated.

All the heated reaction vanished in a millisecond replaced by wide eyes, and her mouth fell open. She glanced around the office as she must’ve realized their wealth. Maybe only now she realized they didn’t just work at MDR Software, but they owned the company.

Smith had seen the reaction many times—fancy things impressed women, sparkly things even more. What he hadn’t ever seen before, once the surprise faded from her eyes, she didn’t seem at all interested in that. “Seriously, a two-thousand-dollar bet on my orgasms?”

“Yes, kitten, we’re quite serious.” Brock grinned. “Are you willing?”

Christ, Smith could only grip the armrests to stop himself from going to her, tossing her legs over his shoulders, and having himself a snack. No woman had ever made him this damn hard.

In a slow, seductive slide of her finger she traced the rim of her glass as she regarded them. “I’m agreeable to join the bet.” Her cheeks flushed a color that wreaked havoc on Smith’s cock, making it ache in need. “But I’m afraid there’s a problem.”

Smith forced his attention away from her slender finger that he hoped would make a similar move on his dick. He also ignored her pinkish cheeks that he prayed burned deeper while she writhed beneath him. “Which is?”

She hesitated, then said on a quick breath, “I don’t orgasm easily.”

Smith smiled. As if that would be a problem. But it was glaringly obvious she
pretended
to be a sex kitten who was, in fact, more or less, in way over her beautiful head.

He could see himself respecting a woman like Kyra.

He exchanged a look with Brock, who gave him a firm nod, indicating their thoughts ran on the same line. Smith turned to Kyra again, and he noticed how she squirmed in her seat.

Exactly how he wanted her.

Smith appreciated a confident woman who fought to be brave, and he respected the trait, yet without a certain vulnerability to her, the appeal would fade. He loved pink cheeks and a stunned speechless woman under his touch. More to the point, enjoyed when a woman unraveled in his presence. To hold such heady power fed a greedy part in his soul.

In the minutes Kyra had been in his office, she’d given him all these things.

He tilted his head, regarding the treat awaiting him on the couch. “Quite the dilemma, isn’t it?” He stood from his seat and approached her. It delighted him how she sucked in a deep breath, and how ragged it sounded from her parted lips.

Once in front of her, he took the wineglass from her hands. The stunning clarity in her eyes mesmerized him. “Sit on the desk. Do not cross your legs.”

Her eyes blazed with reservations, even as she licked her lips. “Why?”

Smith scanned over her long, beautiful neck, her silky skin stretching over her hammering pulse. “We take our bets seriously and need to know what we’re up against. It’s a lot of money to wager if it’s bound to fail.” He leaned down into her face, his cock pressed against the zipper in his slacks. “Get on the desk, Kyra.”

Chapter Two

In two-point-two seconds, Kyra leaped to her feet. Her blood burned, even if Smith intimidated her, since she stood eye level with his chest. His tall stature was the first thing she noticed in his profile at the castle. Well, also his photo, where he looked like some Wall Street hunk.

The photo hadn’t done him justice. Good glorious Jesus, the man was hot as hell.

Not to say his appearance had been his only appeal. She was used to dealing with handsome and powerful men. Her employment with the PR firm Silverholt had
those
types. What had sealed the deal for their night was something she’d seen in his eyes, something that made her want to know him.

Now something else concerned her.

After what she’d heard and seen from these men, she wondered if she’d made a mistake by accepting their invitation. She lifted her chin, staring into Smith’s warm chocolate-brown eyes. “Are you doms?”

Smith shared a puzzled look with Brock. His gaze held a certain depth that Kyra decided was a healthy amount of confidence. He frowned when he said, “I suppose some might perceive us as dominant men.”

“No, not dominant men,” she corrected, saying the words slowly and carefully. She didn’t want any misunderstanding. “Doms. BDSM. As in, bossing women around, refusing orgasms, and demanding submission.”

Brock barked a laugh. His eyebrows arched over his piercing eyes, which to her annoyance, held an equal amount of haughtiness. “Do we look like men who would enjoy what you’ve suggested?”

Kyra scanned over Brock, noting the hard angles of his jawline. He reminded her of a fitness model she’d seen grace a cover once. Hell, he fit the model type with his sandy-colored hair, masculine but beautiful features, and his athletic frame.

Even he had caught her interest from the get-go. More than the little tickle between her thighs at the idea of being with Brock and Smith, she couldn’t quite pinpoint why she’d been so dead set on meeting them.

There was just
something
about them that drew her in like a bug to a light.

Smith had a thicker frame, like a man who’d spent hours in the gym. His jaw was softer than Brock’s, yet his lips were more defined. She didn’t doubt for a moment both men had six-packs and a plentiful display of muscles beneath their tailored suits.

What concerned her was the self-assurance they portrayed. Arrogance she’d seen all too often in the form of her best friends’, Marley and Bella’s, boyfriends. After another quick look at their stern expressions, she nodded with conviction. “Yes, you both act like doms.”

Smith appeared to fight his smile, but his voice was rich with amusement. “Would you like us to dominate you? I’ve never refused an orgasm, or expected submission, but if you wish—”

“No, I do
not
wish.” Kyra’s fingernails dug into her palms. “I’m not looking for a dom.” She hesitated. “Or I should say, two of them.”

Brock gave her a long look. “Beyond being the most peculiar conversation I’ve ever had with a woman, why would you assume we live that lifestyle?”

“Well…” At Brock’s question and Smith’s amusement, her cheeks warmed. Now, she was horrified to her bones, realizing her assumption was wrong. “My best friends from the pact live the BDSM lifestyle, and you both seem”—she hesitated, then shrugged—“bossy.”

Smith chuckled.

Brock’s grin remained. “You’re safe with us, kitten. We want to give you orgasms, not refuse them.” His smile faded. “Besides, if I, or Smith, physically hurt you in any way you didn’t want, I’d hope you’d have us arrested.”

She relaxed her fists. “You realize, then, if you give me orders and if I respond, it’s not because I’m submissive.”

“A kitten who hisses.” Brock winked with a dark, seductive look. “I like it.”

Smith’s mouth twitched. “It appears your friends are big players in the BDSM lifestyle, since you’re so adamant in pointing that out. But yes, Kyra, we understand you’re not submissive to us.”

Brock added, “You’re more than welcome to boss around right back. In fact, we expect it and would enjoy some interplay from you.” His eyes positively glowed. “We prefer a spunky kitten than a timid one.” His head tilted. “Can we move past this BDSM issue?”

She nibbled her lip, glancing from one man to the other. “Yes, of course.” With her point made, embarrassment crept up. “You were bossy, and I assumed—”

“We wanted a sex slave.” Brock smirked.

“Right, silly,” she muttered.

Months ago, she wouldn’t have accused anyone of such a thing, since she’d never heard much of the lifestyle. But after hearing endless stories of D/s relationships, it seemed her mind just went there, even if she’d rather not. “Perhaps I need to stop listening to my friends’ stories.”

“Perhaps,” Smith agreed.

Brock still grinned. “Now then, since we’ve moved past that interesting conversation, I suspect I won’t forget any time soon, it’s time to get your sweet ass on the desk, kitten.”

While their intention for putting her on that desk was clear-cut, she had signed up for this, hadn’t she? Small talk had been out of the question. She didn’t want to know these men after tonight. She wanted…wham, bam, thank you, two hunks! The less she knew, the better. For whatever reason, she felt emotionally rattled by the men. That if they got too close, she wouldn’t be able to run.

Never get emotionally involved, especially when you’re dealing with fancy men. A lesson she’d learned from working at the PR firm. Tonight she was down to all business. She’d fulfill the pact, live out her fantasy, and never look back. Besides, these two men were hot, and she planned to let the wild part of herself come out and play.

With that mission in mind, she approached the desk. When she reached the large cherrywood desk, she turned to the sexy beasts behind her. Two men, who no doubt planned to devour her. Desire flickered through her.

The contrast between them startled her. Who were the men behind the photos she couldn’t stop looking at? Smith seemed reserved and strong, while Brock appeared playful and arrogant. The mix of the two provided stimulation without any foreplay. As if one man lacked a quality on his own, but together, they were perfection.

A dangerous situation, reminding her to shut her heart down.

She settled her bottom on the edge of the desk, the tips of her high heels supporting her weight. Her skirt rode up slightly on her thighs and she didn’t have to look down to see her garters showed.