Nothing Between Us (26 page)

Colby schooled his face into impassivity as he led Keats and Georgia to his bedroom, but underneath the surface, he was running hot, every button firmly pressed. When he’d opened the door on the two of them at the twenty-minute mark, he’d been captivated by how fucking perfect they had looked together. Keats’s muscles straining with every thrust, Georgia clawing at Keats’s back and making those soft sounds of hers. Everything about the scene, including him standing there watching, had felt right in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced.

Most men would’ve probably had a meltdown standing there—pissed and jealous that their girl was being handily fucked into oblivion by some other guy. He knew that by society’s standards, that was how he was supposed to react. But his wiring had never been what anyone would call typical. And he was okay with that. Through his eyes, all he’d seen were two beautiful people finding pleasure—and breaking Colby’s rules, which only meant more fun for him. Reward for making it through the night so far with monk-level patience.

During the movie, he’d been so keyed up, he’d barely been able to sit still. Even if the two of them had been unaware of the cues they were giving each other, Colby hadn’t missed it. Keats had adjusted his pants every few minutes, obviously fighting a hard-on each time Georgia shifted against him. And Georgia had gotten goose bumps when she’d glanced back and forth between Keats and Colby. Colby had known exactly what was on her mind. His sexy girl and her dirty thoughts.

And Keats,
damn
. He’d had him under his command twice in the last twenty-four hours, but it hadn’t been enough. Seeing him with Georgia had only heightened the need. He wanted to see Keats pleasing Georgia, that eager desire to make her lose it. And he wanted to see Georgia’s adventurous side come out and play. His solo encounters with each of them had been off the charts. But knowing they were going to all three be sharing everything tonight was adding an element of heat and an inner restlessness that Colby could hardly contain. They were both his tonight. That notion did something to him on a primal level.

They all walked into the bedroom together. The lights were low and the curtains were closed. He didn’t need any audience tonight. This was his private show and only two others were invited. Keats stopped in front of him, and Colby set his hands on Keats’s shoulders. Keats stilled beneath the touch but didn’t move away.

Colby pressed his front to Keats’s back, letting him feel how aroused he was and allowing Keats to relish the vulnerability of being one of the lucky ones under his control tonight. “You like fucking my woman, Adam?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir,”
he reminded him.

“Yes, sir,” he whispered so goddamned sincerely that Colby’s cock flexed against his zipper at the sound of it.

“You have no self-control, do you?”

“Not when it comes to her.”

“I don’t blame you.” He squeezed Keats’s neck. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t punish you. Both of you.”

Keats’s cock was already half-hard again. Colby smirked to himself. There were some benefits to having a twenty-something-year-old guy around. What Colby could offer in experience and staying power, Keats could match in recovery time and eagerness.

“Spread your feet wide, hands clasped behind your neck,” he said to Keats as he pulled something from his pocket. Keats moved into position, and Colby caught Georgia watching the two of them with unblinking focus. “Georgia, bring me that black bottle from the side table.”

It took her a second, but she snapped out of her haze and grabbed what he needed.

“Next time, you won’t be able to come so fast,” Colby said, crouching down in front of Keats and squirting a little lube on the black silicone device in his palm.

Keats’s gaze turned wary. “What is that?”

“A cock ring.”

“For what?” Keats stared at the ring like it’d bite him.

“It’ll keep you hard longer,” Georgia said, her eyes fixed on what Colby was doing.

“Give the pretty lady a teddy bear. She’s been busy on Google.” Colby stretched the top ring and leaned forward to swipe his tongue over the head of Keats’s cock, then slid the ring to the root of the shaft, lube easing the way but the fit a snug one. Keats was tense as a bow but didn’t move until Colby stretched the bottom ring and fitted it around the base of Keats’s testicles, making them bulge in a pleasantly obscene way.

Keats groaned and his hands fisted. “Oh, fuck.”

“That will only get more intense the more turned on you get. But tell me if it becomes pain instead of pressure. This part is not supposed to hurt. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, on your knees.” Keats lowered to the floor with a darting glance toward Georgia to gauge her reaction. “Now . . .” Colby strolled over to grab his favorite flogger from his closet and ran his fingers through the tails of buttery-soft elk hide. “You both broke the rules, but I can’t very well beat a man with bruised ribs. Not even I’m that cruel. So Georgia will have to take the flogging for you both.”

“What?” Keats said, distress filling his voice. “No way. I can take it. Don’t make her—”

“I can handle it,” Georgia said, her gaze meeting Colby’s without fear.

Colby smiled. His tough, sexy girl. She wasn’t being self-sacrificing—though Keats would probably see it that way. No, Georgia wanted this. She’d done beautifully with the spanking the other night, reacting just how he’d hoped. And he suspected she’d secretly craved this part for a long time even if it’d scared her. All those nights she’d watched him from her window, touching herself. How many times had she wished it were her taking those stinging blows? God knows he’d imagined her there stretched out and vulnerable, waiting for the kiss of pain he could give her.

“Stand in front of Keats, right under that silver ring in the ceiling. I want you close enough that he can see your face when you take your punishment.”

Keats still looked more than a little concerned for Georgia, but Georgia was following directions like a pro. She positioned herself under the O-ring Colby had installed in a roof beam. He brought a long length of soft hemp rope and strung it through the ring.

“Arms over your head.”

Georgia complied, looking like a goddess as she stretched out with that mass of hair and glowing brown skin. Colby took his sweet time wrapping rope around her wrists, enjoying the ritual of binding her in a way that would keep her secure but wouldn’t injure or chafe. For his own pleasure, he bound her forearms, wrapping her to the elbows again. Adornment, not function. The two of them painted a stunning picture, one he knew would stay burned in his memory: Georgia bound in rope and Keats at her feet, cock and balls in the grip of the rings.

He was the luckiest bastard on the planet tonight.

He checked Georgia’s bindings one last time, making sure they’d support her if her knees got weak during the flogging. “Anything hurt or too tight?”

“No, Colby,” she said, her voice breathier than normal, her eyes already getting that far-off look.

Oh, very nice. Someone responded well to bondage. “You look perfect strung up for me, baby. Beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell me your safe word.”

“Red,” she said after a moment.

“Good girl. You’ve earned eight minutes under my flogger because you both went four minutes past my deadline. Each stroke will get more intense. Last for all of it, and I may be generous enough to give you two rule-breakers another chance to come tonight.”

She nodded and spread her feet a little wider while lowering her head—preparing for him. He stepped a good swinging distance behind her and readied.

“Georgia, you don’t have to—” Keats began, but Colby let the first stroke fly diagonally across her back, the resounding thud against her skin cutting Keats off.

The soft exhalation of air from Georgia was like a drug to Colby’s system. Nothing sweeter than the sound of a submissive taking what he gave with grace.

“You better tell your boy to stop protesting for you,” Colby warned. “Every time he opens his mouth without permission, you earn another minute.”

He crisscrossed another few strokes over her back in quick succession, increasing the level of sting.

“Keats, shut up,” Georgia managed in a choked voice. “I’ve got it.”

Colby felt his dominance rising fully to the surface. She’s got this? Well, that sounded like a challenge if he’d ever heard one.

—

Georgia realized she’d been too confident. On the next hit, Colby must’ve put a flick in his wrist because the recoil of those tips of leather snapping against her felt like a hundred tiny licks of fire across her ass. Georgia gasped and arched in her bindings, her natural human instinct to get away from the source of pain kicking in without her conscious effort. Her heels lifted off the floor.

“Reach down and cuff her ankles with your hands, Keats,” Colby said, the pleasant, nonchalant tone in direct contrast to the swats he was meting out. “I don’t want her to hurt herself moving those pretty feet.”

“Yes, sir.” Keats scooted forward on his knees and peered up at her, his eyes holding a hint of apology, though his body looked to be responding just fine to the show. He was already fully hard again, the cock ring standing out in relief against the taut skin. He locked long fingers around her ankles and provided downward pressure, fastening her to the floor and giving her a nice view of those tattooed arms and muscular shoulders.

“No escape for you yet, gorgeous,” Colby said from behind her. “You’ve still got six more minutes.”

“Six?”
He had to be kidding. Surely she’d been standing there an hour. Already every part of her back and ass was throbbing and tight. Not necessarily in a good way. Maybe she wasn’t a masochist after all. Maybe a spanking was as much as she could handle. But she also wasn’t going to back down. She’d endure.

The leather strips came down again, and she cried out with the biting sting. Keats’s grip tightened on her ankles when she tried to shift forward. Goddamn, Colby wasn’t going to be shy about it. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to catch her breath.

But Colby didn’t let her. No more one hit and pause. The flogger was coming down again already, a figure eight of fiery pain lighting her up.
Wham. Wham. Wham.

Blood was rushing through her head, and a buzzing started in her ears. But Colby didn’t let up. He was in a steady, focused rhythm. Her vision began to blur a bit, and vaguely she registered that she might be crying. But her mind was fuzzing around the edges.

“Put your tongue to use, Keats,” Colby said, his voice terse. “I know she can take more, but she may need a little added motivation.”

Before Georgia could line the words up in her head to process them, a hot mouth was sucking and laving at her pussy.
Oh, yes.
Her knees softened and a shudder of relief chased up her body. She whimpered as the next hit landed but it wasn’t from the sting. No, her skin was going tingly and fever hot, her body converting the pain into something other, ethereal and erotic, as Keats lapped at her.

The two men seemed to be in sync somehow. The rougher Colby got, the more lovingly sensual Keats got. Soon, she found herself anticipating the next swing and teetering on the brink of another release. Instinctively she knew coming was not allowed right now. This was supposed to be punishment. But with the next blow, she came anyway—the rolling power of it impossible to fight.

Colby didn’t even pause, and Keats just rode her orgasm with his mouth, softening his assault but still pushing her higher. Another hit came and sensation cracked wide open, spilling over her, making her near-delirious.

God, it was so . . . she couldn’t even find words. She let out a choked laugh, which sounded hysterical to her ears, as she imagined her writer brain being emptied of words, letters soaking into the floor. Yep. They’d officially hijacked her mind and shipped it to another place.

Another hit came.

She let her eyes fall shut and fell into that lovely, floaty space. Time passing without a desire to mark it.

—

Keats couldn’t help but gaze up and be awed at the transformation in Georgia. She wasn’t flinching away from anything anymore. In fact, she’d pitched her body more toward Colby in full surrender. Keats knew what it meant to be masochistic—suspected he had a strain of that, too, since he’d been known to get hard while getting inked—but he’d never expected to see someone look downright high from it.

Colby set down the flogger and peeled off his shirt, a faint sheen of sweat marking his brow. He looked like some wicked god, standing behind Georgia and admiring his handiwork. He stepped up and pressed himself to Georgia’s sure-to-be-burning back, laying a kiss on her shoulder. “Beautiful.”

“Please,” she murmured.

“What do you need, baby?” Colby asked. “Ready for me to get you down?”

A quick shudder went through her. “I just . . . I don’t know. I need . . .”

Colby closed his eyes and inhaled against her bare shoulder like he was savoring the words. “You need a break.”

She shook her head, but it was erratic, like a horse shaking off a fly.

Keats sat back on his calves when Georgia seemed to sag fully into the bindings. “Is she okay?”

Colby smiled down at him. “I like that you’ve got her back, that you want to watch out for her.”

“I’d do the same for you.”

“I know you would. You’re a good man, Adam Keats.”

The statement was simple but for some reason it filled Keats up in a way that made his chest ache. “Thank you.”

“And yes, she’s fine, but we need to get her out of these ropes and onto the bed. Stand up and put your arms around her waist to hold her up while I untie her.”

“Yes, sir.” Keats rocked to his feet and wrapped his arms around Georgia, careful to not cause any undue pressure on her tender back.

Her forehead sank to his shoulder. “Lethal,” she murmured.

Keats smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Shh, let us get you down before you flatter me profusely about my skills in the sack.”

She snorted against his shoulder.