Seduced By My Doms BN (24 page)

Read Seduced By My Doms BN Online

Authors: Jenna Jacob

Tags: #BDSM, #BDSM Erotic Romance, #Erotic Romance, #Menage, #MFM, #Bondage, #Spanking, #Dominant, #submissive

BOOK: Seduced By My Doms BN
8.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Are you ready to head back to my room, gorgeous?” James
whispered as he cupped a warm hand around my shoulder.

Before I could respond to him, Ian bent in close. His sultry
breath wafted over my neck.

“Think carefully before you answer, little one. Once you
agree to this, nothing will ever be the same. Life, as you know it, will change.
There’ll be no going back. Understood?”

“Are you trying to scare me out of doing this?” I asked
softly.

“No. I’m just making sure your eyes are wide open, little
one.” Ian smiled.

Sliding a gaze over the subs willingly ceding to their Dominants,
I lingered at the empty cross a few feet from our table. The gleaming wood
called to something deep inside me… enticing a mysterious longing that licked
at my spine. I wanted to rip away the layers of flesh that were hiding the
submissive inside me, and set her free.

“I’m ready,” I whispered with conviction.

James and Ian each extended a hand and helped me from the
chair. Wrapped in their possessive safety and warmth, we left the dungeon.
Anticipation and need thrummed through my veins like a drum. Stopping mid-way
in the hall, James reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. As he
turned the latch and opened the door, Ian flipped on the lights, then escorted
me in as James closed and locked the door behind us.

I took in my surroundings. A huge bed stood across the room,
adorned in a chocolate and cream comforter. I bit my lip spying the modern
metal frame with chains and cuffs attached at all four corners. A bathroom lay
to my left, and an antique dresser to my right by the door. There was some type
of tall, metal frame shoved against the wall, beyond the dresser. But it was
the polished wooden cross—like the one that had tempted me in the
dungeon—standing in the center of the room that caused my heart to stutter.
Excitement dipped low in my belly.

“We want you on the cross for us tonight, little one,” Ian
announced.

Moving in close, neither kissed nor touched me. I suddenly
felt isolated and alone. Desperate for a caress of reassurance, I tensed and
cast a pensive gaze toward the floor.

“Such a natural little sub,” James murmured. His praise
soothed, but not nearly as much as his touch would have.

I reached out for them. The anxiety soaring inside me had me
yearning for the tangible connection that only their hands and bodies would
calm. But when they both inched away from me, insecurities took over. I raised
my head, ready to beg and plead, their Dominant stares—intimidating and
assessing—flipped some inner switch within. The desire to please them and make
them proud roared through me with such force, it nearly stole my breath.

“Neither James nor I have a long litany of rules we expect
you to follow at the club. As long as you are respectful and polite to the
guests there will be no issues. However, once we step inside this room, our
expectations grow, exponentially. You will tell us everything that you want,
need, and feel. Communication between the three of us is non-negotiable. Is
that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” I nodded.

“Good girl,” James smoothed in a low drawl that made my
pulse flutter. “Now tell us what you want.”

I closed my eyes. “Your touch, Sirs.”

“Why?” James pressed.

“It comforts me, and helps me feel more centered,” I
replied, hating that my needs made me feel so damn weak.

“Strip off your clothes,” James instructed.

His quiet command sped through me like lightning…tingling
and hot. Yet a hollow, empty coldness followed when I realized they weren’t
going to give me what I needed—what I’d bravely asked for.

With trembling fingers, I pulled my dress off over my head.
Ian extended his hand and I draped the garment in his palm. My knee-jerk
reaction of wanting to cover myself eased, as their stares skimmed over my
half-naked body, like a caress; the physical touch I still longed for. Why
weren’t they giving me what I wanted… what I needed? I’d been honest: I’d told
them the truth. Maybe it was a test, a way to show me that the path of my
submission would be filled with potholes, detours, and landslides. But they
were still here. They hadn’t left me. I took comfort in that fact.

Pressing forward, I reached behind my back and unclasped the
black demi-bra. As it began to slide from my breasts, James stepped forward and
cupped the fabric in his hands. Lowering his gaze, his voice dipped as well.

“Did you wear this especially for me tonight, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whispered as I cast my gaze back to the floor.

“I didn’t ask you to. Tell me why you did.” James’ voice
held a slight tremor, as if I’d truly touched a part of him.

“I—I wanted to see the look of approval in your eyes again.”

But I couldn’t, because I was still staring at the floor
like a coward, waiting for the earth to open beneath my feet and swallow me
whole. And the honesty pouring from my mouth only served to expose more of the
vulnerabilities I’d worked to keep hidden my whole life.

“Look at me,” James demanded in a husky voice.

Doing as instructed, I raised my head. Gazing back, James
pinned me with a look of hunger, desire, and oh yes…satisfaction, just like the
night before. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he drew my palm to his
cheek, then laid his hand over mine. His poignant touch was magic. Exactly the
medicine I needed, and asked for. My apprehensions melted away.

“I’m flattered that you wanted to please me, sweetheart.”
His words were laced with such raw honesty. I knew I wasn’t the only one whose
emotions were being stripped away.

James drew me against his unyielding chest, his bold
erection pressed against my belly. A tremor rippled my lips as James slanted
his against mine. His kiss, so savage and wild, instantly banished any
lingering doubts inside me.

Reluctantly pulling away, he cupped the fabric of my bra,
sending the straps to skim down my arms and off my fingertips. My nipples,
peaking painfully, drew impossibly tighter from the cool air of the room.

“Now the thong, little one,” Ian instructed in a tone rife
with urgency.

Easing the skimpy scrap off my hips and down my legs, I
stepped out of the material, leaving it lying on the floor. Standing before the
two men wearing nothing but a pair of black stilettos, I felt the urge to cover
myself once again, and hide the imperfections of my body. Instead, I focused on
the burning need to please within me and kept my arms at my sides.

A wolfish smile crawled across James’ lips. “Step up and
face the cross, then raise your arms above your head.”

My legs felt like rubber as I moved in and leaned against
the cold wooden surface. With a short yelp of surprise, I jerked back as
goosebumps prickled my body.

Ian set a palm against my spine, guiding me flush against
the frame once more. Closing my eyes, I shivered and inhaled a deep breath as
my body heat warmed the wood. Were they going to use the whip and mark my flesh
like Dark Desire, or would they use a flogger, or their hands on my proffered
ass?

A riot of anxiety swirled. I longed for one more touch—that
magical lifeline that calmed me. Turning my head, I darted a glance over my
shoulder. Ian and James stood like statues; their matching poses appeared
daunting. Legs spread, shoulders squared, with their hands tucked behind their
backs, they stared at me, seemingly inspecting every inch of my naked body.

Turning back to face the cross, I held my breath, hoping
they wouldn’t tell me to put on my clothes and take me back home. From the
corner of my eye, I watched Ian stride into the bathroom, only to return a
moment later with a roll of toilet paper in his hand.

My face blazed in embarrassment. I was wet… but surely I
wasn’t leaving a damn puddle on the floor… was I? Mortified at the thought, I
bent my head to look between my legs when James pressed his deliciously hot
body against my back. Greedily drinking in the comfort of his touch, he palmed
his strong hands up my arms. Gripping my wrists, he held them against the frame
as his moist breath tickled my neck.

“Control can be a very complex thing. Both in giving and
retaining,” James whispered in warning.

What did that mean?

Before I could decipher his riddle, James released my
wrists, but remained flush against my back. Facing the opposite side of the
cross, Ian stepped up wearing a mischievous smirk. Unraveling the thin tissue
from its roll, he began wrapping my wrists in several layers of paper, binding
me to the cross. All the while, James trailed his fingertips up and down my
spine.

Watching Ian with rapt attention, I wondered why he didn’t
simply cuff me to the cross, like the subs in the dungeon. Tucking the ends
carefully into the space between the wood and my skin, Ian skimmed a
feather-light kiss over my lips.

“Your safe word is ‘red’, little one. Oh, and by the way…if
you tear the tissue, our session is over. Am I clear?”

My eyes flashed wide. Staring at the meager paper adhering
me to the cross, I suddenly understood the meaning of James’ cryptic words.
Giving my control to them, I still had to maintain jurisdiction over myself and
not break the paper bindings.

Christ, was that even possible to do?

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“Good. Then let’s begin,” James announced in a business-like
tone.

Gripping both cheeks of my ass with his broad hands, James
nipped at my shoulders as he kneaded the flesh of my orbs beneath his fingers.
I closed my eyes and drank in the sensations. Squirming, I moaned, then blinked
up at the paper, relieved to find that I’d not broken free.

Ian remained facing me on the opposite side of the cross.
Reaching down, he cupped my breasts, lifting and fluffing them to settle
between the top of the V. Dipping his head, he engulfed a beaded nipple,
sucking it deep with a brutal draw. I cried out on a wail of
pleasure-mixed-pain. But before I could inhale, Ian released my ravished nipple
with an audible pop and fastened his lips to the other. I arched, eager for
more, he took it deep into his hot, slick mouth, dispensing the same sweet,
savage attention.

Dipping a hand between my legs, James feathered his fingers
over my cunt. Tapping his foot against my heels, he ordered me to spread my
legs. Widening my stance, my limbs were aligned with the angles of the wood.
Splayed for their pleasure…their pain.

Teasing my aching folds with his soft, fluttering touch,
James rested his chin on my shoulder watching as Ian laved, sucked, and nipped
my nipples, sublimely torturing me with wicked pleasures.

“Do you like what Ian and I are doing to you, sweetheart?”
James asked in a raspy voice.

“Yes,” I murmured, savoring each sensation skating through
me.

Clinging to the tattered fragments of my control proved
trickier by the second. But somehow I’d managed to keep the thin layer of paper
intact—though I feared before they were through I’d need duct tape,
Thorazine
, and a straightjacket to keep from tearing the
tissue.

As if reinforcing that possibility, James drove two fingers
deep inside my pussy as Ian ruthlessly sank his teeth into the pebbled peak of
my nipple. Buffeted between the sensations they bestowed, I bucked as a
mournful wail tore from my throat.

Delving deeper, James massaged the sensitive bundle hidden
inside me as he strummed his thumb over my clit. Ian laved his tongue across my
burning nipples, teasing with an intermittent scrape of his teeth. I writhed
and whimpered beneath their beguiling demand for me to hand over my control.
Straining to bridge the divide between pleasure and pain, I felt as stretched
as the fragile tissue bound on my wrists.

Ian lifted his head from my breast. I instantly mourned the
loss of his attention. But when he flashed a dangerous smile and began wedging
his body between the frame and mine, panic pierced my bliss.

“Watch yourself, little one,” he warned. “I think we need to
make this a bit more challenging for you.”

“No. No,” I cried, darting a worried glance between Ian and
my wrists. “The tissue is going to tear. Please. I don’t want this to end yet.”

“Neither do we,” Ian chuckled softly. “Focus.”

Arching my ass toward James, I
bowed
over the frame like a hissing cat. Holding my breath, I locked my gaze to my
wrists. Ian maneuvered his body into the tight space, then lowered to his knees
in front of me. When Ian wrapped his hands behind my thighs, I exhaled a sigh
of relief and peered down at him. Eye level with my pussy, Ian licked his lips.

“Let me help you out down here, brother,” Ian offered,
looking past me to focus on James. “Does her cunt taste as good as it smells?”

“Better,” James responded with a gruff drawl.

As Ian slunk in low, I bit my lip. Parting my labia with his
thumbs, he inspected my needy folds. Inching in closer, his warm breath wafted
over my pussy in a cool, maddening rush. Without warning, he sank his hungry
mouth over my cunt and began devouring me.

Closing my eyes, James eased his fingers from my quivering
tunnel as Ian seamlessly filled me with his own. I knew I wasn’t the first
woman they’d shared, and while a trace of jealousy sluiced through me,
gratitude followed as well. Well adept at seducing a woman’s body, they
flawlessly sailed me toward oblivion, and for that I was greatly indebted to
the women they’d shared before me.

James slid a slick finger between the cheeks of my ass.
Gasping at first, I relaxed as he circled the tight, gathered ring, gradually
increasing pressure. Strobes of flickering lights flashed behind my eyes as Ian
dragged his flat tongue in a languid swipe from my core to my clit. Teetering
on my heels, I dug my nails into the wood as pleasure swirled from my ankles to
the top of my head.

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass? Stretched wide by a
thick, hard cock before, sweetheart?” James taunted in a beguiling whisper.

Other books

Working Stiff by Grant Stoddard
The Memory of Running by McLarty, Ron
The Duke's Dilemma by Nadine Miller
Momentary Marriage by Carol Rose
Whiskey and Water by Elizabeth Bear
Strange Recompense by Catherine Airlie
In Cold Daylight by Pauline Rowson
Lady Alex's Gamble by Evelyn Richardson