The First Order [Safeword LLC 1] (Siren Publishing Sensations) (7 page)

Rebecca immediately looked at her hands as they loosened the fabric bundled at her waist. A shot of pride traveled through her, as she didn’t hesitate. Had that pleased him? Ross’s words seemed to be caressing her body with a sensual, warm touch as they left his mouth. Each rule that he stipulated produced a throbbing deep in her core. Why was that?

“If you fail to follow these rules, you will be subjected to any punishment that we see fit. You will have no say in the matter, Rebecca,” Ross said, his tone hardening. Becca recognized that he used her given name when instructing her or when he expressed disappointment in her. She would much rather have him use Becca when he addressed her. It already made her feel like she was being rewarded. The approval and intimacy that it referred to was comforting. “You were given two safe words. One is to be used between us in any given scene and it is my understanding that you used the most common among submissives. Please repeat it for me.”

“Red.” Becca slipped her hand underneath the supple fabric of her right shoulder and watched as it slid down her arm. One breast was now exposed and it took every ounce of strength in Becca not to look at Ross to gauge his reaction to the sight. Were they too big or too small? Were her nipples to his liking? She wasn’t quite sure what his tastes were in regards to the size of a woman’s breasts.

“Do I need to remind you of my title, Rebecca?”

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at her mistake. “No…Sir. My safe word is red, Sir.”

“Much better, Becca. And if you are uncertain or need an opportunity to compose yourself?”

“Yellow, Sir.” Becca had answered him as she repeated her actions on her left side, but wasn’t quite sure she didn’t need a moment to compose herself at this moment. The weight of the fabric fell as gravity took over, and the material tumbled to the floor to lie at her feet.

“Please repeat the safe word that Kennedy provided you that will end this contract.”

“Monarch, Sir.”

“Rebecca, where are your eyes?”

The surprise of her given name made Becca realize she’d been staring at her dress on the ground instead of her hands. She’d been so caught up in answering him appropriately that she’d forgotten her first instruction—keeping her eyes on her hands. Becca immediately brought her eyes up to her hands only to find them clutched underneath her belly button.

“Th–they were on my dress, Sir.”

“And what did I tell you to keep your eyes focused on, Rebecca?”

“My hands, Sir.” Becca couldn’t stop the tremor in her voice. Would he punish her? A stab of fear shot through her. She knew she couldn’t handle pain, yet she didn’t want to disappoint him. The warring emotions were almost too much to handle and she watched as her knuckles whitened against each other. Becca swore to herself that she’d do better in following his instructions. She didn’t want him to stop and take away these feelings that he’d stirred within her. “I’ll do better, Sir.”

“You’ll be chastised a little later for your infraction, Rebecca. Right now, I’d like you to lower your hands to your sides.”

Becca felt the stiffness in her knuckles as she loosened her grip. She brought her hands down to her sides, not taking her eyes off of them. Becca’s focus made her conscious of the fact she would have kept them tightly closed. She forced her hands to remain relaxed, feeling the pads of her fingertips brush against her thighs.

“Now, I want you to look at your right shoulder.” Ross closed the distance between them, walking around so that he was standing directly behind her. She blinked rapidly, trying to resist the urge to look up at his face. “Tell me what you see.”

“I–I’m not sure I understand, Sir.” Ross’s finger trailed from the curve of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm. “It’s my shoulder, Sir.”

“Your shoulders are sensual cambers scattered with enticing freckles begging to be caressed.” Ross brought his hands underneath her mounds and cupped her breasts, lifting them up until she was spilling over his fingers. “Now tell me what you see.”

Becca knew she could do better than just saying the word
breasts
. He wanted something more descriptive. Unfortunately, his touch was distracting her mind from searching for the correct adjectives. “My breasts in your hands are s–sensitive to your touch, Sir.”

“I like knowing they are sensitive, Becca,” Ross said in a low voice that dripped like rich caramel over her senses. “I see beautifully formed swollen tits bound in creamy flesh. Your taut areolas are soft with miniscule bumps that tighten under the warmth of my touch. Your burgeoning nipples appear magnificent in their eagerness to feel the moisture of my tongue.”

Becca gave a ragged sigh and struggled to inhale whatever oxygen might be left in the room. Ross seemed to have left none for her. Light perspiration now coated her skin. She’d never been so aware of her breasts before and was astonished to find that he’d instigated a deep ache within them. Ross hadn’t touched her nipples, but his words seemed to have triggered a pinch within them that wouldn’t dissipate.

Ross gently released her breasts and brought his warm hands down to her cool stomach. It wasn’t as flat as Becca would have wanted it, and she mentally cringed at what she would say if he asked her to describe her abdomen. She wasn’t good at this game and wanted it over with, yet she’d never felt so aroused. It was if her body had awakened from a long winter’s sleep. How had Ms. Van Camp known this was what Becca had needed?

“Please describe where my hands are, Rebecca.”

“Oh, my stomach, Sir.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“I–I’m not happy with that part of me, Sir.”

“Then let’s change your view, shall we? I see porcelain skin that is soft to the touch while the slight swell speaks of your fertile health.” Ross stroked his thumb across her lower abdomen, which caused her muscles to contract as well as her pussy. “Your voluptuous curves lead into what an artist would see as perfection, lightly etching your lines to catch the blossoming of your hips. The only thing their artwork lacks is the ability to capture the grace with which you tilt them as you walk, framing your flower between them.”

Becca watched as his hands dipped farther down, suspended right above her bare pussy. Her clit was enflamed, glowing a bright pink, and had been overly sensitive since she’d left the spa. The dampness growing inside her thighs was becoming alarming. If air could cause such a fiery reaction, Becca wasn’t sure she’d be able to cope with Ross’s touch. She was finding it hard not to lean back against his broad chest for support. Ross pulled his hands away and stepped back. She nearly collapsed in frustration.

“Place your fingers inside your folds, Rebecca. Pull them apart and show me your pussy.”

Becca had to lock her knees in place. Ross had stood behind her with his mouth close to her ear as he described parts of her body that she never would have considered erogenous. After listening to his words and seeing and feeling her body respond to him, Becca was on the verge of accepting his portrayal of her sensuality. But now, seeing her bare mound and being instructed to expose her pussy, Becca felt her vulnerability return in waves. In her mind, there wasn’t anything pretty about her pussy.

Not wanting Ross to think she was hesitating, Becca slowly brought her hands around and slid an index finger into each fold. Much to her surprise, her newly waxed skin felt like slippery velvet.

“Pull up and expose yourself to me.”

Becca was surprised when her hands didn’t slip and she was able to separate her folds, exposing her engorged clit and drenched labia. Her juices flowed as if he had turned on a faucet. She would have been red with embarrassment at her condition if it weren’t for the state of flushed excitement she was now in. She kept her eyes glued to her pussy, not wanting to give Ross a reason to add to her earlier punishment. How was Ross going to describe what she was displaying as anything other than what it was? Becca had reservations that he would be able to do so without her fainting dead away.

“You are easy to read, my dear Rebecca.”

Ross walked around her, coming to stand in front of the mirror. He was blocking her view and Becca hesitated on where to look. Ross took the decision away from her when he slowly bent to one knee—directly in front of her bare pussy. He shifted so that she maintained her view. She was both mortified and set afire when he inhaled deeply.

“Your smell is intoxicating. Moisture is flowing down your inner thighs and glistening like a beam of light shining down from a streetlight on a puddle gracing an empty street. Do you know what that tells me? It divulges your arousal at being put on display. Lane and I look forward to presenting you at the club among other places. A friend of ours is very good with rope. Maybe we should ask him to slip some twine in between your folds, similar to how you have your fingers, and make sure your pussy is open for viewing. I’d be profoundly honored to say that your cunt belongs to us both. Do you see what I see? Your pussy is open, revealing satiny pink skin and a flaming red clit that’s throbbing with the beat of your heart. Do you feel your clit pulsating?”

Becca felt her pulse in her ears just like she did when she was about to have an orgasm, but couldn’t quite reach that point of release. If only Ross would touch her—just one touch would bring her the explosion she desperately sought. Becca couldn’t hold back the whimper of utter conquest that escaped her throat. Ross had done nothing but run his finger down her arm and express his appreciation for her body and he’d somehow taken her beyond anything she’d ever sexually experienced.

“Do you now see what I see, Becca?”

The heat of her name coming from his lips soaked into her skin. Yes, Becca saw herself as he pronounced—a sensual, beautiful woman. More importantly, she
felt
it. A sense of confidence washed over her, as if they had consummated their connection. She felt cherished.

“Yes, Sir,” Becca whispered.

“A man could get used to coming home this.”

Becca couldn’t hold back her cry of surprise at hearing Lane’s voice from across the room. Her head swung up and her eyes caught his. She could see the intensity in his dark gaze and couldn’t help but make comparisons with his brother. Ross wasn’t what she would call laid-back, but he did have a sense of tranquility that Lane didn’t seem to possess. The muscle in his jawline tightened as he placed his briefcase on the floor and closed the door behind him.

Ross stood up. Becca winced when she realized she’d taken her eyes away from her pussy. She immediately corrected her mistake, but knew that Ross was well aware of her transgression. Instead of voicing his disappointment, he stepped away from her and walked across the room to where his brother stood. No, no, no, she thought, don’t walk away.

Becca strained to hear what was being said, but their voices were too low. Vowing not to take her eyes away from her pussy, she watched as her cream leaked out of her slit and continued to drip down the inside of her thigh and puddle on the polished oak floor. She wished they would stop conversing and finish what Ross had started. Becca still needed to come in the worse way. She would do better in listening to them in the future.

Becca breathed a sigh of relief when both men started toward her. She was finally going to get the orgasm her body had craved since setting eyes on the Ellison brothers. Neither said a word as Ross took up his stance next to the mirror and Lane started to walk around her. Did her looks please him as they did Ross? If so, why didn’t he touch her? She was surprised when he came to stand directly in front of her.

“Eyes on me, Rebecca.”

Becca’s throat constricted at the sound of her given name. She did as Lane instructed though, and brought her gaze up to his. Instead of seeing disappointment, she saw pure hunger radiating from his dark eyes. The muscle along his jawline was still constricted, causing a tiny tick to pulsate at the base.

“Did Ross go over everything to your satisfaction?”

“Oh, yes, Sir,” Becca whispered, although she wasn’t sure why. Lane was speaking at a normal level, but his intensity left her weak.

“Do you have any questions about the rules as Ross has laid them out?”

“No, Sir.”

Becca was starting to feel a little panic. Ross had told her everything she needed to know, so why was Lane going through this absurdity? Why couldn’t they just get to the reward she felt she had earned? She understood everything now and not only was her body ready for relief, but her fingers itched to repay them. She would prove to them that Ms. Van Camp hadn’t made a mistake in her placement.

“So you understand that your previous hesitation in following orders and your inability to keep your eyes focused on what Ross instructed you to needs to be dealt with, correct?”

Becca couldn’t breathe. She also couldn’t tear her gaze away from Lane. For one, he’d ordered her to maintain eye contact with him. Second, it was as if he’d trapped her soul within those brown eyes and she didn’t want to miss a chance to read some hint of compassion she feared she’d not receive. He wouldn’t call Ms. Van Camp and tell her that they wanted another placement, would he? Ross had ratted her out, but hadn’t said anything other than she’d be disciplined for it. What would her punishment be? Could she talk Lane out of it? Images of whips and canes sailing through the air and landing on her ass filled her head. Could she take something like without using her safe word? Ross had mentioned that Lane had a small sadist streak running through him.