Three-way Tie (11 page)

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Authors: Sierra Cartwright

Tags: #BDSM/ Ménage à Trois

BOOK: Three-way Tie
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It seemed to her they spent a lot of time talking.

“Last night, you started to slip into subspace. It’s possible to get there without your Dom being deliberate, but it’s much easier if you’re both working towards the same goal.”

She nodded and took a sip of the excellent wine.

“How did the flogger work for you?”

“I liked the way it hit me in so many places at once. I liked the way it felt, Sir.”

“And the intensity of the blows…how was that?”

“I liked it. I could have taken more, Sir. I wanted more.”

He nodded. “It’s not necessarily about taking more. It’s not a matter of the honour of being able to take a harsh beating; it’s about receiving the right amount of stimulation.”

She rolled the stem of the glass between her palms. “I wanted to continue yesterday, Sir. I’m afraid I was a little annoyed when you started talking.”

“If a bottom is truly in subspace they’re often no longer conscious of pain. I wanted to know where you were. As it was, I beat you for more than ten minutes.”

Was he serious?

 
“In my judgement you’d had enough. At least until we had a chance to discuss it and I saw how you processed the psychological aspects. It’s my obligation to end a scene if I have any concerns.”

She nodded.

“There will be no shame if you don’t achieve subspace tonight. We can try again tomorrow. Now put down the wineglass. You’ve got five minutes.”

She took the opportunity to freshen up in the master bathroom. She took dozens of deep breaths. Her senses were heightened and anticipation churned through her.

Both men were already in the playroom when she arrived.

“Clamp her tits before securing her to the cross,” Master Rafael instructed.

Maybe she should learn to be careful what she asked for.

Master Eric grabbed a pair of clovers and attached them to her already sore nipples.

She bit out a curse.

In retribution, he tugged on the chain. He was every bit as beastly as Master Rafael. If she forgot it, he painfully reminded her.

She definitely had to be careful what she asked for.

Master Eric secured her in place while Master Rafael selected a flogger.

“These strands are a little thinner than the ones we used last night. If it’s too much, tell me, but I suspect you’ll like it better,” Master Rafael said. “Yes, Sir.” She wanted him to get on with it. Her nipples ached and the butterflies were working overtime.

Master Eric took his position where he could look at her. He really did have eyes she could drown in.

Master Rafael massaged her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes, focusing on anything but the nagging pain in her nipples.

He continued, moving lower to vigorously rub her buttocks.

It was almost enough to make her forget the clamps.

He lightly used the flogger on her shoulders, her back, her rear.

“Yes,” she said.

Master Rafael increased the pressure slightly and rained the blows a little faster.

He was right that this flogger stung more—making her skin dance—and he was also right that she preferred it.

Master Eric gave a gentle tug on her chain. She moaned her approval.

Her back and buttocks burned from the beating, and she was enjoying the sensations. Her body seemed to move in symphony with his lashing.

She was suddenly glad he’d made her talk so damn much. She knew what to expect, knew he wouldn’t hurt her, knew that two men were watching her every reaction.

She was aware of the room, of the scent of Master Rafael as he stood behind her, the way Master Eric stood watchfully in front of her, the way the clamps seared, making the flogging all that more appealing.

She relaxed completely, allowing the bindings to support her. Her mouth parted, and her breathing took on the rhythm of deep sleep.

Then…

Then she wasn’t aware of anything except the experience of pain becoming pleasure.

She was somehow deep inside herself. She felt the hungry leather lash at her skin, but it seemed as if it were from somewhere far away.

Each blow just made her go deeper, deeper.

She soared.

It was as if she’d been standing on a precipice her entire life and now she was free.

She mentally spread her arms and fell weightlessly, trustingly into a void that caught her, cradled her, protected her.

Time ceased.

Reality blurred.

All that mattered was here and now and how good she felt.

She was vaguely aware of her body and surrendered to the experience.

Floating.

Soaring.

Flying.

Free
.

For the first time ever, free.

She wanted to stay here forever.

How long it lasted, she had no idea. All too soon, she heard voices. She felt fingers at her wrists and ankles. The nipple clamps were removed. That shooting pain made her snap her eyes open.

“Welcome back,” Master Eric—the devil—said.

She didn’t want to be back.

She felt disoriented, confused.

Master Rafael rubbed the circulation back into her arms. “Can you talk to us?”

She probably could. She just didn’t want to. It was as if she’d been in a different psychological state, one she couldn’t explain, one she wanted to hold onto for just a little longer, like a good dream.

Master Rafael lifted her from the floor and carried her through the house.

Her body felt limp. He had to instruct her to wrap an arm around his neck.

He placed her on the bed. Then he stripped and joined her, pulling her close, cradling her head against his strong chest.

She wasn’t aware of sleeping, but when she awoke, it was daylight.

For the first time in years, she felt a bit unsure.

“Good morning,” Master Rafael said.

He stood at the side of the side of the bed, holding a cup of coffee. His hair was damp. A few drops of water clung to his gorgeous tanned skin. He offered her the cup of coffee and she took a sip.

“Thank you, Sir. Manna from the gods.”

“You’ve been out for about twelve hours. If I hadn’t brought coffee, I’m afraid you’d still be asleep.”

She rarely slept more than six hours, maybe eight if she pulled a double at the restaurant.

“Do you want to tell me about the experience?”

“Do I have to?” she countered.

He shook his head. “Not if it’s personal.”

It was. She didn’t want to share it. “Honestly, I’m not sure I can explain it. It was as if I were somewhere else entirely.”

“You were. For about half an hour.”

It had seemed like minutes. “Thank you. It was…”—she took another sip of coffee“—outstanding. Memorable.”

 
“It was our pleasure,” he told her. “Get dressed when you’re ready. Breakfast is waiting.”

His words were every bit as much of a shock as waking up had been.

She hadn’t been allowed to wear clothes since Friday. And now he was telling her to get dressed. She’d known she was only going to be here for a short time, but it had gone so fast. Her shoulders sagged and tears stung her eyes. She’d finally found a man who could give her everything she wanted.

Apparently their time together—she—meant less than nothing to him.

She knew it was Sunday and that her time was up, but his casual dismissal devastated her.

Chapter Six

“You’re a fucking idiot, my friend. Your life is boring and you’re going to die an old man out there on that forsaken mountain.”

Rafael took a drink of beer but didn’t acknowledge Eric’s assessment. He stared out of the sliding patio door at the Continental Divide. For the first time, it didn’t provide solace. “Anything else before I hang up?”

“She’ll be at a club in Dallas tomorrow night.”

He thumped his beer onto the granite countertop. “How the hell do you know that?”

“I called her to see how she was doing. She’s sure she can’t repeat the experience you gave her, but she’s bored and restless. She’s lonely, but she didn’t say that. She put an ad online looking for a Dom, someone to tie her up, fuck her and beat her. Seems she likes being tied up.”

He clenched his jaw.

“She’s had a few responses. She’s going to play with one of the guys, see how it goes.”

Was she now?

He wasn’t sure why the hell he let her walk out the door except for the fact he’d given his word that he would.

“I invited her to California if it doesn’t work out.”

“Hands off unless you’re invited.”

“That’s what I thought.” Eric hung up.

Resisting the urge to slam down his cell phone, he instead placed it on the counter.
 
He’d never considered having a permanent sub before. Then again, he’d never met anyone like her, so real, so honest, so open.

He wasn’t exactly sure how it would work out, but he knew the idea of any other man touching her filled him with rage. She wanted a Dom, did she? Well she’d damn well get one. He had to make one stop before the airport.

* * * *

The bell over the diner’s front door jangled. Lindsey turned around. The friendly welcome died on her lips, and she nearly dropped the coffeepot.

“Rafael?” she asked, as if her eyes could deceive her.

Even though her home was a small Texas town, he looked comfortable. His jeans, blue instead of black, hugged his tight ass and his thighs. He wore a navy blue T-shirt and black boots. He’d tied back his hair.

He moved towards her deliberately.

She took a step back before standing her ground.

Not only had he let her go, he’d walked her to the car.

“I heard you’re looking for a Dom.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s none of your business.”

Conversation died around them as people figured out he wasn’t a customer.

“Letting you go was a mistake.”

“We had no long-term agreement.”

“I want to make another agreement.”

She’d lain in bed every night for the last month dreaming of him.

“One where you’re my full-time submissive.”

He didn’t seem to care that others were eavesdropping, but this was where she lived. She’d known these people most of her life.

“You don’t need to go to Dallas to find a man who’ll take care of your needs.”

John Simpson in the corner booth let out a wolf-whistle. “I’ll take care of you, honey; just get those sweet cheeks over here.”

She looked over her shoulder. “This pot of coffee is going in your lap, John.”

He stuck his fork back in his eggs.

“Want me to rearrange his face?” Rafael asked.

“I’ve been handling this type of stuff on my own for years.”

“And you’ve clearly done a good job.” He dropped his voice. “Seeing this side of you turns me on. But from here on out, you’ll let me take care of you.”

He backed her against the wall where they had a bit of privacy. Everyone could see, but no one could hear.

“I want you, Lindsey. I want you to be mine. My sub.”

She licked her lower lip. Could she dare to hope?

He reached into his back pocket and pulled something out.

Oh God.

It was a lovely leather collar.

Others would think it was a nice choker. And it was. Delicate, with a silver pendant. She looked at it closely, realising it was designed to look like a rope.

“It signifies the way you’re bound to me, and, on some level, to Eric. It’s small enough that others won’t figure out what it is. But you’ll never forget.”

Her mind supplied a million reasons why this wouldn’t work, but her body betrayed her. Her pussy was already moist and her nipples had hardened.

“I won’t make you kneel here. But I will put it on you.”

“Rafael—”

“Master Rafael,” he insisted, leaning in closer.

He took the coffeepot from her and slid it onto a nearby table. The patron shrugged and topped up her cup.

“There go my tips.”

“You won’t need them.”

Suddenly she was the one who wanted to talk. “I—”

He covered her mouth with his for their first ever kiss.

His kiss was as demanding as his lovemaking. He coaxed a response from her, not that it had taken him much work. She was in love with this man, had been ever since he’d first administered her aftercare.

He ended the kiss. She was lost. Dazed. Almost as if she were back in subspace. Nothing existed but here and now.

A couple of of customers cheered.

“Get a room!” someone called.

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