Her Three Protectors [The Hot Millionaires #3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (7 page)

“Yes, that’s where I met Sal.”

“Save the rest of it until Beck gets back,” Troy advised. “He shouldn’t be long.”

They heard his key in the door at that moment, and he staggered in, loaded down with supermarket bags. The guys decanted his purchases and stacked everything neatly in the cupboards. Shortly after that, they sat to eat the meal Adam had produced remarkably quickly. It was really good, and Porcha told him so.

“Ah, some appreciation for my talents at last!”

“You seem to have regained your appetite,” Beck said, laughing at her empty plate. “What happened to the shit-scared woman we met this time yesterday?”

She grinned at each of them in turn. “She got some sleep, she got laid, and now she’s just mad as hell, thirsting for revenge.”

“Atagirl!” Beck said for them all.

“Where did you learn to handle a gun?” Troy asked.

“Same place I learned self-defence. Sal insisted. I spent hours on the range until I hit the centre of the target every time. I spent even more hours taking private karate lessons.” She shared another grin between them all. “Just so you know, I can handle myself, so don’t hack me off.”

“Ah, baby, I’m sure you can,” Beck said, fluttering his brows. “But can you handle us?”

The guys stood up and cleared the plates away, their movements swift and economical, always seeming to know where the others were. Porcha watched them in admiration, feeling safe and cherished. She knew she was about to tell them everything—all the intimate details of her humiliation at Sal’s hands—sensing it was the right thing to do. Sal was dead. He couldn’t come back and chastise her for anything. Even he couldn’t control her thoughts from beyond the grave. She was free of him, and once she got rid of the people trying to chase her down, she’d be able to do whatever she damn well pleased. She was probably a wealthy woman, at least on paper, but she wouldn’t take a penny of Sal’s illicitly obtained funds. If she came out of this thing alive, she’d give it all to charity and start again with a clean sheet.

“Come on.” Beck took her arm. “Let’s go get comfortable, and you can tell us your life story.”

Porcha accepted another glass of wine and curled her feet beneath her in a swivel chair. The three guys sat opposite her, all in a line on a large couch, rather as though they’d agreed without the need for any words not to touch her until they were sure she was comfortable with it. Adam succinctly brought Beck up to speed on what she’d so far told them. He, too, expressed his surprise at the news of Georgio’s wife.

“He didn’t tell me about any of you, either,” she said. “Georgio only doles out information on a need-to-know basis.”

“So, you met Sal at the club you worked at,” Troy prompted.

“Yes, he swept me off my feet, to be honest. He was charming, well connected, and a perfect gentleman. He showered me with gifts, took me on his gin palace of a yacht, flew me to Rio in a private jet.” She lifted her shoulders. “It was a first-class ride every step of the way. What girl wouldn’t be impressed?”

“Did you know what he was?” Adam asked.

“Not at first, but his permanent protection squad told he was no Boy Scout. That and the fact that everyone treated him with grovelling respect. Georgio went crazy when I told him I was seeing Sal. He put me straight on his profession and told me to back off.”

“And did you?” Troy asked.

“I tried to, which was when I discovered that no one walks away from Sal Gonzalez unless he’s ready to let them go. He besieged me, launched an out-and-out charm campaign, introduced me to all sorts of legitimate business contacts and promised me he would get out of the drugs business permanently if that’s what it would take to keep me. In the end, he convinced me he was a reformed character.”

“Leopards don’t change their spots,” Beck said, unusually sombrely for him.

“No, obviously not.” She groaned at her own naïveté. “But perhaps I wanted to believe it was possible because I was a little in love with him.” She shrugged. “Who knows? He told me about his childhood. He came from an impoverished background, and all the kids, according to him, got involved in drugs in some way. He came up through the ranks, had natural leadership qualities, and it went from there.”

“That part’s probably true,” Troy said.

“You’re not Mexican?”

“No, I come from Argentina originally, but I know life can be as tough in Mexico as it was in South America.”

“I’d been having a tough time supporting myself,” Porcha said, feeling the need to continue justifying her decision to marry a man like Sal, “and it was nice to have someone I kind of trusted to make decisions for me. Anyway, I eventually agreed to live with him, which is when the fun and games started.”

Adam frowned. “You didn’t know he was a dom?”

“Call me sheltered, but I didn’t even know what a dom was. What I did know, once he had me behind the walls of his fortress in Mexico, was that there was no going back, so I made the best of it. He trained me for weeks before he laid a finger on me, which drove me insane.” The guys shared a glance. “I like hard physical sex, and I wasn’t getting it, you see.”

“He had you pegged,” Beck said, curling his upper lip. “Knew exactly how to turn you into what he wanted you to be.”

“He taught me to assume a subservient position whenever he walked into a room alone. In the end, it became second nature, even when we had company. He regularly spanked me and taught me to wait for the pain to transmute to pleasure. He introduced me to all his toys but wouldn’t fuck me until I agreed to marry him.” She looked at each of them in turn. “By then I was in a permanent state of arousal and would have married his grandfather if it had got me laid.”

“He was controlling you from the get-go,” Troy told her, anger in his tone.

“Yeah, I know that now. On our wedding night he kept me up, literally all night. He made me sit at the dinner table with nothing on except nipple clamps and a plug up my butt. Then he took me to a room I’d never been in before. Like your one, except it had a real creepy feel to it, like people who’d been in there before me hadn’t enjoyed the experience.”

“I hope you didn’t get those sorts of vibes from our room,” Adam said earnestly.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Good,” Beck said. “Because we’re not into cruelty.”

“Sal chained me to the wall on our wedding night and made me turn to face it with my butt in the air. That was his favourite way to look at me, I later discovered. He finally fucked me from behind, telling me over and over again that I was his and would never do a single thing for the rest of my life without his approval.”

“Was it good? Beck asked. “The sex, I mean.”

“I loved it. He was thirty years older than me but still a passionate man with a big cock. Not as big as Troy’s,” she said, giggling, “but still pretty impressive. He filled me with it and made it last forever. I came twice without his permission and got punished harshly for it.”

“Doesn’t sound so very bad,” Beck remarked. “Not if you liked it.”

“He released the chain from the wall afterward, attached it to the collar he’d put round my neck, and made me crawl across the floor to him and beg for more.”

“Did you?” Adam massaged an impressive-looking erection through his pants.

“Oh yes, and he spanked me for asking. Said girls who asked didn’t get.”

Troy shifted his position, also rigidly erect, Porcha noticed. “Babe, if you enjoyed it so much, and you obviously did, what went wrong?”

She shrugged. “I guess I’m not cut out to be a slave. I’m happy to submit, beg for what I want, and take any punishments my dom thinks appropriate, but outside of that I want to be able to live my own life, make decisions for myself.”

“You’ll give your body and not your mind, which makes you a sub not a slave,” Beck told her. “That’s what we’re in the market for, in case you’re wondering. We’d never do anything to you that you didn’t want. There’s always a safety word in our games.”

“To answer your question, Troy, what went wrong is that Sal is a show-off. He didn’t want anyone else to touch me, but he did want people to see what power he had over me. It got to the stage where he’d have one of his men in the room when he was fucking me, usually that prig Woollard.”

“Woollard?”

“Let her finish,” Troy said, talking over Adam’s interruption.

“He was Sal’s right-hand man, and we hated each other. He disliked me because he thought I lessened his influence with Sal but still lusted after me. I disliked him because he was highly dislikeable.”

“He made his man watch you?” Adam grimaced. “What a sick fuck.”

“Not just Woollard. My two bodyguards were regular spectators, too. Sometimes he’d get one of them to administer his punishments for him whilst he sat and watched. They were never allowed to lay a finger on me with their bare hands. It was always a paddle or a whip. I was totally humiliated because I could see how turned-on they were, but that was rather the point. But, as I said, Woollard was the worst. He used to spank me really hard with one hand and jerk off with the other. He was the only one allowed to do that. But it was the smug satisfaction in his eye that got to me. Sal knew I hated what they did to me, but I couldn’t do anything about it. He’d worked his way inside my head and had complete control.” She spread her hands, trying to make them understand what it was like. “And in spite of everything, I still enjoyed the sex, even if I didn’t enjoy the humiliation.”

“And yet Sal taught you to protect yourself—”

“Oh yes, he loved me and was kind to me in a perverse sort of way when it wasn’t about sex and domination. It was just…well, this’ll sound like boasting, and trust me, it isn’t. He saw how men looked at me and used me as a weapon to show them how invincible he was.” Porcha sighed. “The trouble was that he trained me too well for me to even think about protesting. I knew I had to do whatever he asked of me, no matter how degrading. He stripped me of the will to do anything of my own volition.”

“Mind games.” Troy spat the words, giving Porcha the impression that if her husband hadn’t already been dead, Troy would have been happy to help him on his way to the next world.

“It got worse. He started inviting his male business colleagues to dinner and made me wear completely see-through clothing. He made me sit at the foot of the table with my tits on open display whilst they chatted like I wasn’t there.”

“The perverted bastard!” Beck growled.

“Inevitably, at some stage he’d say I’d displeased him, which was my sign to get up and crouch in the corner.” Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes. “He didn’t have to say a word. Just one look and I knew what I had to do.”

“He had you the moment he didn’t fuck you at the beginning, and he knew it,” Troy said. “He was thirty years older than you so he needed his rivals and friends to see that you weren’t with him for his money. I’m betting that you smiled all through those humiliations. Am I right?”

She lowered her gaze and nodded. “Yes.”

Adam scowled. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry he’s dead!”

“I’m not, but the brutal truth is that if he walked in here now, I’d go with him, without question, even though I’d ten times rather stay with the three of you.” She shrugged. “I just don’t seem to have any will of my own when he’s around.”

“He knew he had to conquer your mind first, and he did a pretty good job of it,” Troy said, grimacing.

She looked at the three of them, conscious of the tears now trailing down her face. “I love being a sub. I’ve thought about your proposition and want to submit to the three of you,” she said earnestly. “You have no idea how much. Just don’t humiliate me like he did. That’s all I ask.”

“Baby,” Beck said. “There are three massive cocks here ready to keep you happy for the rest of your days. We don’t need to humiliate you to get our rocks off.”

“Are you ready to let us fuck you?” Adam asked. He unzipped and showed her what he was packing. She gasped. “Yeah, you want that, don’t you, sugar?”

“Yes, master.”

“Stand up and take your clothes off, Porcha,” Beck ordered. “Slowly now. Make us wait to see what you’ve got for us.”

She smiled, lowered her head, and then immediately stood up. When she saw the men exchange a satisfied smile she knew she’d made the right decision. They would treat her right without trying to control all aspects of her life. She pulled her top from the waistband of her jeans and threw it over her head. Beck caught it and grinned at her. Then she unsnapped her jeans and pulled them low enough for them to be able to see the thong that matched her lacy bra.

“Are you wet, Porcha?” Adam asked.

“Yes, master. You guys have really turned me on.”

“You know what that means, don’t you?”

“How will you punish me?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. Now the bra.”

Porcha unfastened it and threw it aside. Her three guys all made grunting sounds of approval when her breasts sprang free.

“The thong,” Adam said. “It looks kinda damp. You might feel more comfortable without it.”

She stepped out of it without hesitation and then assumed the submissive pose she’d been taught, awaiting their next order.

“I don’t know about you, boys,” Adam said, standing up and stepping out of his pants, “but I think this little sub of ours has been a bad girl and needs a good spanking.”