Sarah’s Billionaire Doms (3 page)

Both men were a few years older than Jared and Damon. Long-time members and minor shareholders of the Lance, both men kept to their private circle made up of high-society members who came from old money, unlike self-made entrepreneurs like Jared and Damon, who built their business empire from the ground up. Damon still had no clue what Sarah was to them.

“Is there a problem, James?” Jared asked politely, although Damon sensed the undercurrents of anger in his brother’s voice.

“Sarah.” James squeezed one bare shoulder, stealing her attention.

She looked a little lost when she turned to him, making her seem young and sad. The trust there made Damon incredibly jealous.  

Damon didn’t bother with civility. “You two are interrupting us. Not to mention, you touched our sub without our permission, James.”

James’s mouth tightened, but he let go of her shoulder. “She isn’t your sub.”

“Does she belong to you and Bobby then? Because when you introduced her to me in my office, neither of you made mention of it,” Jared said coolly.

“Sarah doesn’t belong to anyone,” Bobby muttered.

“Then she belongs to us for the evening. Besides, Sarah is an adult. She knows what she wants.” Damon growled. “One more chance, James. Leave, and I’ll consider not suspending your membership for a few weeks.”

Sarah finally spoke up. “James, Bobby, I’m fine. It’s okay. I’m safe with them.”

Safe with them?
Odd choice of words.

“Very well, we will be around if you need us. I apologize, Damon, Jared. We’ve known Sarah for a long time and are a little overprotective of her.” James nodded curtly to both of them and turned to leave with Bobby.

“What did James mean they’ve known you for a long time?” Damon asked.

She bit on her bottom lip.
More questions and secrets.
If they pushed her now, nothing would prevent her from dashing out. Damon settled for securing one hand over her waist, while his other rubbed at her left inner thigh. The gesture calmed her down again. He settled her head against his shoulder, and then looked at Jared.

Jared sighed and gestured for Steve, the dungeon monitor keeping an eye on the bar area. “Steve, have one of the private rooms upstairs ready for us.”

Steve came back moments later and reported one of the rooms remained unoccupied.

Jared kissed the top of Sarah’s head. “Come, little one.”

Damon helped her to feet. “Put your hands out.”

She didn’t buckle or flee when Jared took out a thin chain, a leash, and looped it to the ring on both the wrist cuffs. They led her upstairs, with Jared holding the leash and leading the way. Damon kept one arm possessively around her waist and matched her strides. Some of the club members gave them and their conquered prize curious looks and knowing smiles.

Once inside one of the private rooms, Damon noticed the guarded way she surveyed her surroundings before curiosity took hold of her. The action reminded him of a caged and wary animal. The room looked non-threatening enough, warm colors, rich walnut paneling, although the massive iron-framed bed dangling with leather cuffs on either end and the paddling bench installed near the wall adorned with toys, told a different purpose.

“I take it you haven’t been inside any of the club’s private rooms, little one?” Jared asked. He pointed to the floor, and Damon let go of her waist so she could kneel in front of them.

“No, Sir, I—” She hesitated, staring at the carpeting.

Damon approached her side so her shoulder touched his left knee. He combed his fingers through her long dark hair, undoing the small tangles, noting how it fell like a graceful waterfall down her back. “Finish that line of thought, sub.”

“I always made sure to keep things public,” she admitted, sounding guilty.

“Smart girl,” Jared said with approval. Sarah looked up at Jared hesitantly. “It’s wise protocol. We might be different than the clubs around town, have stricter rules, but that doesn’t mean we can keep an eye out on every member.”

Jared pressed his hand to her cheek, and she leaned into automatically, like a needy kitten, the submissive gesture worsening Damon’s erection. What would it be like to wake up in the morning in the apartment they shared and have Sarah waiting on her knees to service them, wearing nothing but their leather collar? If she belonged to them, Damon would want her nipples pierced so they would match her clit ring.

He fisted her hair again. “Tell us, dirty girl. Are you wet for us?”

“Very wet, Master Damon,” she whispered.

“Then I should warn you, little one. If you come without our permission, my brother will be extremely displeased. You understand?” Jared asked.

“I understand, Sir.”

“Good. Now get into the bed, raise your arms above your head, and open your legs. We’re going to bind you to the headboard and footboard,” Damon instructed.

She obeyed, spreading herself on the bed. Damon walked to the foot of the bed while Jared did her wrists. He pulled her left ankle to him, frowning at her when she attempted to kick him.

“Sorry, Sir,” she whispered, paling.

Jared kissed her left wrist before attaching a length of sturdy Velcro to the cuff.

“We’ll let it go since this is our first time, but kick me again, and I will punish you,” Damon said.

She shivered, but managed a weak, “Yes, Master Damon.”

Damon made sure she was secured snugly. Jared came by his side, and both of them admired their work. Splayed, restrained, and completely helpless, Sarah looked perfect, utterly beautiful and sheer temptation. 

“Very nice, little one. You can’t imagine how pleased we are with your gift of submission.”

The mattress Sarah lay on dipped low after both men undressed and joined her in bed. They mirrored each other, with Master Jared on her right and Master Damon to the left. Dark-eyed, dark-skinned, large, tall, imposing, and carved out of muscle—both men had been hewn from the same stone, but they had markedly different sides.

Heavily inked, made of scars and rougher lines, the sound of Master Damon’s voice instantly reduced her insides to jelly, but that didn’t mean Jared was the less dangerous of the pair. Master Jared wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but he reminded her of a lean wolf, one moment tender, and the next baring hidden teeth. Despite their appearance, neither touched her with the hidden promise of real violence.

At first, Sarah was terrified of going with them. She’d already made the mistake once of falling for a man with polished manners and means. Sarah often overheard unattached subs gossiping. They did their best to attract the attention of the two wealthy club owners, hoping the Bentley brothers would pick a temporary playmate among them.

Sarah stayed cleared of them, choosing to play with Doms and Dommes Bobby and James considered safe. In her experience, men with too much time and money on their hands weren’t like everyone else. They liked to toy and tease. Appear as princes in shining armor. Strip that impeccable armor of wealth and manners away, and Sarah knew what she’d find—a beautiful monster, just like Michael. 

Meeting and talking to the two men, though, slowly eroded all her fears. Both Damon and Jared were brutally honest about what they wanted. No lies and no pretensions—which made her eventually trust them. Besides, Sarah could call it off anytime she wanted. One word, and they’d release her. She was sure of that.

“What are you thinking about, little one?” Damon asked. He began palming the sensitive inside of her thigh, making her breath hitch.

“You, Sir.”

“Who?” Jared asked.

“Both of you.”

Jared chuckled, pinching her left nipple, sending another jolt of sensation through her. “Greedy sub.”

Damon stopped stroking her. Retraced his steps back to the rough area on her left hip where blue and roses covered the tiny, shiny perfect circles branded into her skin. Damon growled and looked at her the same way when he spread out her fingers—silently demanding questions to answers she could never give. 

“Don’t look away,” he warned in a low voice.

Sarah met his gaze, wary, suddenly overcome with the need to admit defeat. Yell out “red” and demand they untie her because she changed her mind. This had been a bad idea anyway.

What possessed her to agree to their proposition? Because she decided she needed one night under the hands of experienced Doms before reality reared its ugly head? Because no one had looked at her the way they did, with calm regard fused with barely concealed hunger capable of undressing her with their eyes alone?

“Cigarette burns?”

Sarah pushed aside buried memories that began to drift to the surface. She refused to let them get in the way of this, to spoil the only place she considered her haven.

Dark intensity took over Jared’s face now, until both brothers eerily looked alike. “Answer the question, Sarah.”

Sarah.
Not sub or little one. No nicknames. The way Damon easily pinpointed the injury also unnerved her. Like she suspected, Damon didn’t have a clean past. Did he live in a world of violence before he became the other half of Bentley Industries?

She knew the bare bones, the rumors and gossip from the club members. In the daylight world, Jared and Damon ran their group of companies with an iron fist. Jared specialized in some kind of Internet thing—building algorithms, programs, and apps, and utilizing social media. Damon, meanwhile, preferred running a private security firm under the company’s main group. Other than that? Nothing.

Sarah realized, with a pang, she didn’t know much about either of them. Unlike the subs in the Lance, the last thing Sarah was interested in was their wealth. It bothered her immensely that she wanted—no, needed—to know the brothers outside of the club. For billionaires who ran a Fortune 500 company, they seemed down-to-earth. Did they enjoy the same things normal guys did?

“Sarah,” Jared repeated, yanking her back to reality.

“Yes.”

Damon’s hand dipped lower, hovering on the ragged lines of scars behind her left calf.

“Badly done knife play.”

Phrased more as a statement rather than a question, so why bother asking? Not her first time being asked about them. The tops she played with usually asked if the old injury would affect their play, but the way Damon and Jared asked felt different. Like the time they asked why doing a public scene with them was different from all the other times at the club. Sarah knew how most Doms saw her. They rarely bothered seeing through her age, compliance, and willingness to submit. All they were interested in was what she had to offer on the surface level.

Damon and Jared, though, wanted something else. Complete surrender—something Sarah couldn’t give, especially after Michael.

 “Damon, enough. Not tonight,” Jared commented, much to her relief.

Sarah needn’t worry because, after tonight, she would no longer be returning to the Lance. She ran out of her old life, moved in with James and Bobby because she no longer wanted to remain chained to a sadist who got off on hurting her for real for the debt she owed him. The last thing she needed was complications, and the first place Michael would look for her was a BDSM club.

Why did the thought of never seeing Damon and Jared unsettle her so much?

“Hush, it’s okay. We’ll take it easy for now,” Jared coaxed. He kissed the top her head. “We can see how this distresses you, which wasn’t our intention, but we will talk about this eventually. Understood?”

“Yes, okay.” Lying always came easy to her, but from Damon’s frown, she could tell he saw right through her.

Thank God Damon abandoned the uncomfortable show-and-tell and moved on. Damon pressed a thumb against the ring of silver through her clit hood, making her tense body squirm. He watched her with hooded eyes, increasing the pressure. Damon began stroking the swollen nub with his thumb while his other fingers pinched her labia, sending electricity through her soaking cunt and her tits.

“So responsive,” Jared murmured, beginning to play with her nipples. He pinched and tugged until the points hardened.

Sarah stifled a moan at the dual sensations. The reminder she was helpless, had to take whatever they wanted, aroused her more. Sarah thrust her pussy at Damon’s hand, swallowing when he pressed one large hand against her mound, keeping her flat against the bed.

Her stomach sank when Damon threw her a cold, disapproving look. God. Sarah had played with a number of Doms, but none of them possessed the ability to make her body truly yield and call to her deep-rooted submission. Reduce her to a tightly wound violin, where she deeply felt each tug and reverberation.

“We lead the dance here, not you.” Damon glanced at Jared. “Those tits would look perfect with ornaments.”

Jared grinned, getting off the bed. Sarah turned her head, tracking his movements, but Damon tugged her clit ring.

“Eyes on me, sub.”

Damon lowered his head, flicking his wet tongue against her piercing, hands firmly securing her thighs on the mattress. Sarah pressed her lips together, but her breathy moan managed to slip out. Damon’s tongue mercilessly lashed back and forth over her engorged clit, his mouth moving lower, nibbling and sucking at her labia before stabbing into her folds.

“You can be as loud as you wish, little one,” Jared murmured, returning to the side of the bed. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair. On the other hand, chains clinked. Despite the riot of sensation Damon sent through her body, she tensed at the sound. Jared noticed. He cupped her chin. “Relax, Sarah.”

Jared showed her the toy he picked. Nipple clamps connected by a thin chain. Nothing dangerous. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed against Damon’s ministrations. Jared laid gentle kisses on both peaks, the gesture unsettling Sarah, before he attached the clips. The slight input of pain collided with the warmth of Damon’s mouth against her pussy, settling down to a perfect mix.

“If you come without permission, we’ll have to do this all over again. Understand, sub?” Jared warned.

On the verge of climax, Sarah felt herself nod. She groaned when Damon pulled back and reached over her belly. Sarah only noticed the second piece of chain dangling between her clamps. She let out a protesting sound when she realized where it would fit.