Three-way Tie (7 page)

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Authors: Sierra Cartwright

Tags: #BDSM/ Ménage à Trois

BOOK: Three-way Tie
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“You’re doing a bit better. But don’t think I didn’t hear the hostility in your tone. Keep it up and you’ll sleep on the floor at the end of my bed. I have some shackles to keep you in place.”

She hadn’t known that was an option. And she didn’t know if he was serious or not. From what she did know about him, she wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Follow me,” he commanded.

“Sir…”

“Sub?”

Could any man truly be as patient with her as he was being? “That…” She paused. “This…”

“Ask your question.”

“I’ve never asked this before, Sir.”

“We agreed to honest conversation.”

Using the cross to support her back, she asked, “Will you please fuck me, Sir?”

Over the years, she’d perfected the art of dodging advances. She didn’t sleep with a lot of men and then she was generally in a relationship before inviting a man to spend the night. Even in a BDSM scene, she didn’t have sex with the men. Her nerve endings still zinged from the constant arousal.

“I want you.” She needed him, not in an emotional way, but in a greedy, physical way. “Even if you don’t let me come, I want you inside me, Sir.”

He walked over to her. “I wasn’t planning that so soon.”

“It doesn’t feel soon to me,” she admitted. She looked pointedly at his crotch. “You want it, too, Sir, if I may say so.”

“Lindsey.”

He laced her name with so much inflection it sounded as if he were warning her to watch her step.

“Fuck me, Sir. Hard and fast, however you want, but please fuck me.”

“Are you trying to top me, sub?”

“Sir! No. I’m begging.”

He regarded her for a long moment before saying, “Get on all fours.”

She lowered her head so he wouldn’t see her triumphant smile.

Her body was still a little stiff from being spread on the cross. It took her longer than normal
 
to get into position, and she wasn’t as graceful as she would’ve liked to be. Lindsey was terribly aware of his cool regard, with his arms folded, legs spread, hair pulled back.

Once she was in position, she turned her head to watch him undress.

He discarded his clothing quickly—a boot here, another there, the rest of the garments strewn on the floor.

The sight of his naked body made her pussy moisten again. The man was beyond gorgeous with his muscular body and sexy olive-toned skin. His cock was hard and every bit as big as she’d expected.

He opened a drawer and took out a condom.

She watched, transfixed, as he rolled it down his length. Soon…

Master Eric came back into the room. “I’ll wait a while before throwing the steaks on the grill.”

Master Rafael nodded. Then he knelt behind her. “How does your pussy feel?”

“It’s throbbing, Sir.”

“You’re not sore?”

She felt his cockhead at her entrance. “Only in a good way.”

He firmly gripped her hips. She loved his size. This man was muscular enough to place her where he wanted her, dominate her thoroughly. She found that fact so ultra-appealing she could’ve orgasmed instantly.

“You may not come without permission,” he told her.

And damn him, he’d know. There was no faking with a man as perceptive as Master Rafael. Nor was there any possibility of disguising her reactions.

He placed one hand in front of her, his forearm against her belly so he could keep her in place. With the thumb of his free hand, he explored her clit. The gentle abrasion after his earlier, thorough punishment made her wriggle her hips. His firm grip kept her firmly in place.

Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. She suddenly wasn’t sure she could restrain herself. His cockhead at her entrance wasn’t enough. She craved his full length inside her.

“Tell me what you want, sub, what you need.”

“Sir!
Now
.
Please
.”

He took her hard and fast.

She whimpered. This was so much better than she’d imagined or hoped.

She now knew what she’d been missing.

She liked being with a man who so thoroughly possessed her, who knew what he wanted, knew what she wanted and was confident enough to give it to her.

He pulled her back to meet each of his thrusts.

She was unravelling.

He and Master Eric had left her on the raw edge of denial earlier, and the out-of-reach orgasm was there again, demanding.

“Sir?”

“No,” he told her.

She tossed her head from side to side. She wouldn’t survive this. Couldn’t.

As he rode her, he slapped her right hip.

Her insides clenched.

She gulped oxygen, trying to hold off.

“Come, little sub,” he instructed. “Milk my cock with your pussy.”

Screaming, she did.

She bucked and shuddered. He held her firmly, his left arm still in front of her hips. He placed his right hand on her shoulder, limiting her movements. It made each internal ripple so much more powerful.

She’d never had such an intense orgasm.

Behind her, his body went rigid.

“Fill me, Master Rafael.”

The man was seemingly always in control. He continued to hold her steady, not tightening his grip at all. Then, seconds later, and with a deep moan, he ejaculated. His cock pulsed inside her. It was enough to trigger another orgasm.

“Sir! I’m going to come again.”

“Ask permission.”

“Please. Oh, Sir, your cock feels so good. Please let me come.”

For a long time, he didn’t respond. Mindlessly, needfully, she continued to beg.

 

Come now.

“Thank you, Sir!” Her entire body shuddered as she orgasmed.

He held her through the ripples that assailed her.

Then, finally, when she was able to think again, he leant forward and gently bit her shoulder.

She shuddered.

She’d never been with a man who’d satisfied her so completely.

She’d been wondering if she’d survive the weekend. Now she was wondering how she’d survive when she no longer had him—this—in her life.

Master Rafael slowly withdrew his cock.

With great care he patted her pussy dry with a small towel before disposing of his condom. In her experience it was unusual for a man to see to her before himself.

“You’ll want to freshen up before dinner. Follow me.”

How he could go from the intimacy of sex to regular life
 
so quickly surprised her.

Obviously completely comfortable with nudity and unconcerned with Master Eric’s presence, he didn’t dress before leaving the room. His penis was mostly flaccid, but still impressive.

She crawled behind him as he led the way to what she assumed was the master suite. A king-sized bed dominated the space. A pillow and blanket were on the floor at the foot of the bed. Maybe he had been serious about making her sleep on the floor if she misbehaved. The very idea inspired obedience.

“The bathroom is through there.” He pointed to the right. “You’ll find towels and washcloths in the linen closet. Soap and shampoo are on the counter. You should find everything you need.”

“Uhm…?”

“Yes?”

“What about my cosmetics?”

“I won’t permit cosmetics. I want you stripped bare. No hiding. No artifice.”

She blinked. She’d started wearing makeup when she was twelve. Her parents had forbidden it, so she’d bought some with her babysitting money and kept it in her locker at school. Now this man was telling her she wasn’t even allowed mascara or foundation to disguise some of her blemishes?

“There’s a razor in the shower. Freshen up and shave your pubic hair. I want you completely bare. Pull back your labia and shave the inside of your pussy lips. Don’t keep us waiting. You’ve got five minutes.”

He started to leave.

“Sir?”

He paused at the entrance to the door and turned back to face her.

The way he’d taken her changed her perspective on events. “I wanted to apologise again for my earlier misbehaviour. I…”

He raised a hand. “Once you’ve been properly punished, once I’m confident you’ve recognised your error, we move on. No more apologies. It won’t be mentioned again. ”

“I…” That was so unlike anything she’d experienced. Her last boyfriend would continue to hold every little mistake against her. Every new argument had included a rehashing of all her previous transgressions. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Five minutes.”

She wasn’t sure if she had to crawl when he wasn’t watching, but she didn’t want to take any chances of screwing up again. His retribution was swift and harsh. She’d meant it when she said she’d learnt her lesson.

She crawled across the bedroom, grateful for the blessing of carpet. Now she understood what he meant about kneeling on the rug being a privilege.

Lindsey hurried through her shower. He’d provided only unscented shampoo, soap and shave cream. She hadn’t realised until this moment how important those things were to her and to her feelings of femininity.

 
For the first time in her life, she shaved off all her pubic hair. It took considerably longer than she thought it should have.

When she was done, her mound felt more pronounced, more exposed.

No doubt this man knew how to make her feel like a sub rather than a dabbler.

It was probably closer to ten minutes when she crawled into the gorgeous, gourmet’s delight kitchen. There were double ovens, a six-burner cooktop, slate floors, granite countertops and more soaring windows.

Master Eric was entering the kitchen through the sliding glass door that led to a deck. He carried a platter of steaks. Master Rafael, once again fully dressed and still looking like a pirate, stood near the stainless steel refrigerator, a glass of red wine in hand.

“Cabernet?” he offered.

She enjoyed a glass of wine almost every night before she went to bed and was nearly salivating at the idea. “I’m allowed to drink?”

“One glass. Enough to relax, not enough to catch much of a buzz. I want you fully conscious of everything happening. Present your shaved pussy for inspection.”

“Sir?”

“Lie down on the floor, part your legs, lift your pelvis and keep your hands behind your neck.”

She knew better than to question him. The position was obscene, and the damn slate floor was terrifically uncomfortable.

He held his wineglass in his left hand and crouched between her legs.

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