Brazen Seduction (8 page)

62

Morgan Ashbury

“Don’t be sexist,” Alan said. “I have nipples too, you know.”

“I guess I
was
being sexist in my thinking.” Molly grinned because the image of Alan wearing nipple clamps, and nothing else, stirred her juices. “I guess I’ve always just associated nipple clamps with women.”

“Sometimes Richard puts them on me before he leaves for work and I wear them for hours. It’s like he’s right there with me the whole time I have them on.”

“Mmm.” The image of experiencing that boosted Molly’s arousal another notch. She had an itch in need of scratching. She laid her hand, palm open, on her chest between her breasts and began to slide it down, over her abdomen.

Richard grabbed her wrist before she could even brush the hair at the top of her mound.

“No, Molly. You don’t pleasure yourself unless I tell you to.” He gripped her firmly and the heat from his fully clothed body warmed her bare flesh. He used his thumb to rub the skin on the inside of her wrist. His eyes glittered with arousal. He could feel her pulse, she realized, and knew she was hot.

“I think it’s time for less talking and more action.” He still held her wrist. He led her over to the chains, and in moments secured her.

She wondered if he’d come in here earlier, while she’d slept, and adjusted the chains to fit her height. Alan stood a good four inches taller than she. Cuffed, her arms stretched up, but she could still stand flat-footed on the ground.

“Alan, bring me the blindfold.”

The other man fairly raced to do his master’s bidding.

“We’re going to touch you. And you won’t know if it will be pure pleasure, or a little pain. And Molly? No words, unless it’s your safe word.” Then he looked over his shoulder. “Strip and put your collar on. You’re to wear that collar for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, Master.”

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Then Richard stepped behind her and put the blindfold in place.

She felt a moment of disorientation, but corrected it by spreading her feet slightly.

Molly groaned when hands came around from behind to cup her breasts and pinch and pull on her nipples.

“You have nice, long nipples when you’re horny,” Richard whispered in her ear. “Maybe we’ll get them pierced.” She couldn’t speak words but he hadn’t told her to remain completely silent. Why did being chained and blindfolded turn her on so much?

“You look much better now, Alan,” Richard crooned. “Why don’t you bring me a set of clamps? Whichever set you like. We’ll see how Molly likes them, test her to see how much she can take.” She could hear Alan moving around and heard a slight metallic sound over by where she’d seen the clamps hanging.

“These ones are deliciously evil,” Alan said. “And they’re my favorites.”

“I’ll have to get another set, then. I think I’d like to see you both done up identically.

“Yes please, Master,” Alan said.

Molly sensed Richard moving, and she heard the sound of metal clanking, louder this time. Hot breath warned her just an instant before a mouth suckled her left nipple making it hot and wet. She moaned and undulated her hips, the strong draw on her breast seeming to pull a string of sensation that ended in her womb.

The mouth left her and then she felt fingers plucking. And then came the bite of metal.

Molly inhaled sharply, not because the nip hurt a bit, though it did. No, waves of horniness shivered through her, rising with the increased pressure of the clamp. Her skin pebbled and she squeezed her perineum in response, clenching her inner muscles to capture the elusive something that seemed to be stroking her inner erogenous zones.

64

Morgan Ashbury

Did that helpless, needy sound come from her? Richard’s chuckle told her it had. She sensed his movements, felt the heat from his body even through his clothes as he edged closer to her.

“Let me just see how much you like this,” he whispered.

His lips captured hers in a kiss that plunged her deep into the heart of passion, a freefall more exciting than a bungee jump. She opened wide, giving him all he could ask for, taking all she could in exchange. Her tongue mated with his, danced and played, her lips sucking his flavor into herself, relishing the taste and the fire and the feast.

Fingers speared into her cunt while a thumb stroked her clit.

No words but surely her groans and moans and whimpers told him how much she loved everything he did to her.

“Ah, yes, nice and wet. Alan?”

Richard stepped back just a little, back and to her right side, and she guessed he planned to attach the second clamp.

“Yes, Master?”

Alan waited close by, just a few feet, she thought, ahead and to the left. At the sound of his name he stepped forward. She could tell from just those two words that he felt almost as aroused as she.

“Molly performed a service for you last night. I want you to return the favor.”

“Thank you, Master.”

He sank to his knees as he spoke. Hot breath, a quick little sniff, and a low humming sound of pleasure filled her with anticipation.

Alan set his mouth on her and ravaged. Lips and tongue lapped, sucked, drank. She had no time to build anticipation and brace herself.

He was there, his mouth avid as he lavished her pussy with the most intimate of kisses.

The first jolt shot her arousal high, her heart kicking one heavy beat before she felt the tingles of imminent orgasm.

“Don’t come. Don’t come, Molly, until I tell you. I’ll punish you if you do.”

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Don’t come? Was he
kidding
? From the back of her throat a sound emerged, need and desire, passion and pout. She hovered on the edge of climax and didn’t know if she could hold it back. She thought what he asked of her might be damn near impossible, like holding back a flood with a paper towel.

The bite of metal on her right nipple stung, but the nip, the pinch, fanned the flames she struggled to contain.

“She’s so wet and juicy, and
God
, she tastes so good.” Alan’s words vibrated against her wet flesh, the already electrified nerve endings battering against this additional stimulation.

Richard tightened the clamp on the right then adjusted the one on the left. She knew if she hadn’t been impossibly aroused she never could have tolerated the pressure on her sensitive nipples.

Richard fisted her hair, turned her head, and took her mouth with his. His tongue demanded, and she had no thought except to surrender, to give him everything he demanded, to give him all.

“You’re close, aren’t you, Molly? Answer me.”

“Yes.” She drew the single syllable out, wrapped it in a whimper, clearly begging and unashamed to do so.

“See how you like this.”

Even as his mouth took hers again, she felt more, a finger coated in something cold and wet brushing up and down over her anus.

And then he pushed his finger into her, pressed hard and sank inside her. At the same moment, Alan slid two fingers up into her pussy. Stroking, delving, he found her G-spot, found it and began to court it with a fierce intensity.

Both men moved inside her, tiny little presences to represent what they would do, together, before long. Instinct told her this just as instinct made her whimper and lean into Richard just that little bit.

She felt her body shaking and knew she wouldn’t be able to hold off her orgasm much longer. She fought a battle against her own need, her own cravings.

66

Morgan Ashbury

“You’ll do better in the future, won’t you?” Oh, she heard humor in his voice and Molly wanted to laugh even as she felt very close to tears. The sound that emerged somehow sounded just that way.

“Come then,” Richard said. “Come for us, baby.” Before his first word died off, Molly screamed as wave after wave of delicious, sinful rapture swamped her. She came hard and long, the fission inside her so powerful she wondered if her heart would be able to keep up.

Between her thighs, Alan sucked on her cunt. The sensation of her juice flowing out of her and into his mouth might have been the most erotic thing she’d ever felt. Hanging by the chains that imprisoned her wrists, Molly pulled down, curled up, and felt her womb clench impossibly tight as the orgasm went on and on and on.

It seemed to last long, long minutes as she wrung every drop of pleasure from her body, from the lips and tongue and hands on and in her.

Gasping for breath, she felt her legs give out, felt Richard’s arm come around her, take her weight. Panting, spent, she collapsed weakly against him.

“Two minutes exactly to recover,” he whispered. “And then we’ll start again.”

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67

“I think I just died.”

Richard and Alan both chuckled, but Molly noted there didn’t seem to be much vigor in their laughter.

Sprawled face down across the bed after yet another session of hot sex, not a speck of energy in her body, Molly contemplated the possibility that she might not be able to move for a week or two.

“Five minutes. That’s all you get.”

Her master’s voice sounded less strident than the last time when he’d only given her two minutes to recover.

“Yes, Master.” She figured it would be easier to agree than to argue.

“Smart-ass.”

Alan laughed at that. Molly knew her smile looked smug. Just too bad neither of the men could see it.

“You all right?”

Richard moved—good God, the man was tireless!—and reached out for her. He pulled her onto his chest, and Molly found the energy to snuggle into him.

“You tell me,” she said. Eyes closed, Richard’s heat warming her, she allowed herself to drift toward sleep.

More movement on the bed and Alan snuggled into her from the other side.

“You’re a hell of a lot better than all right,” Richard said. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You paddled me and you don’t want to hurt me?”
68

Morgan Ashbury

“Sweetheart, there’s pain and then there’s
pain
. I meant to paddle you but I don’t want to damage you physically. How’s your ass?” This last session, he’d inserted a butt plug, and then had removed it and given her pleasure using a dildo. He’d explained that it took time to stretch her before she’d be ready for cock. He didn’t want to take the chance of hurting her too badly or worse, rending her.

“A little tender, but it’s smiling because that felt good.” Alan chuckled. “Yeah, my ass has been smiling since I moved in here, too.”

“Anyone hungry? We missed lunch.” Richard continued to stroke Molly’s body, his gesture both comforting and loving.

“Could eat,” Molly said. “Which brings me to the point where I should come clean with you both. I’m not much of a cook.”

“That’s fine. Not looking for a kitchen helper or a maid, here, sweetheart.” Richard said.

Which begged the question, Molly thought. But did she broach it?

As far as she knew, she’d forced Richard into doing something last night at the auction he’d no intention of doing, ever. She’d very deliberately manipulated him by using his protective instincts against him.

Did she risk the future by bringing that up now? Molly sure didn’t want to, but neither did she want to build something on top of nothing.

If the base of whatever they could make together, the three of them, didn’t start out cemented in honesty, how could she hope it would last?

“I guess you weren’t really looking for me, either. I was just there.

Pushing my way in, pushing your buttons until you bid on me.”

“Yeah.” Richard looked down at her. His expression wasn’t that of a light-hearted lover, as it had been most of the morning. “You did take a hell of a chance there, Molly. What if I failed to win you? What if Bacchus, or someone else for that matter, decided that come hell or
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69

high water, they were going to have you? What would you have done then?”

Jordan had asked her the same question last night. And last night she’d been very certain of her answers. Now, not so much so.

“I don’t know.” She reached up and traced the side of his face.

When Alan leaned in closer, she used her other hand to stroke him.

“But I’m pretty sure that if you hadn’t bid on me, then I really wouldn’t have cared. All I wanted was you and Alan. I still do.”

“Well, you have us now,” Richard said. “It just remains to be seen whether having us turns out to be what you really want in life after all.”

Molly knew that for whatever reason, Richard assumed she would change her mind about being with two lovers—or, more succinctly,
these
two lovers. She knew that wouldn’t happen. She could tell him, tell them both, that she was in love with them. But a tiny voice inside her heart told her they wouldn’t believe her. Not yet.

So she would just have to stick around and do whatever Richard asked of her until he could trust that she would stay.

Molly appreciated the irony in that. They were in a D/s relationship where trust was paramount, and she trusted Richard and Alan, for that matter, with her life.

She thought Alan understood where she was coming from. So that left only Richard to be convinced.

What would it take to persuade him that she belonged to him for the long haul? Or did his lack of faith mirror his lack of desire for a permanent arrangement?

Molly closed her eyes and tried not to think about the sad truth.

Now that she’d finally achieved what she’d always longed to have, she found herself at the beginning of a new battle, and not at the end of an old one, sitting on the throne of success.

* * * *

70

Morgan Ashbury

Alan met Richard’s gaze over Molly’s head. When his master smiled, when he nodded, Alan stretched up and kissed him—a soft, fleeting kiss of thanks.

How had he ever gotten so lucky as to have a man like Richard in his life? No cruelty resided in this good man’s soul. Oh, he loved being master, and he loved handing out discipline. But, more often than not, a round with the paddle usually ended with hot, lusty sex.