Siren Unleashed [Texas Sirens 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (25 page)

“I can be so patient, Cotton Candy. You have no idea. I can wait for something I really want.” His chin rubbed against her hair. “Sex is going to be hard, though.”

She turned her face up to him. His deep blue eyes stared down. How could she have ever thought he was cold? “Sex? Why would that be hard?”

He sighed. “Sweetness, I want you so fucking bad. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I might get cranky, but I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.”

He thought she was asking him to wait for sex? “Chase, I was talking about the D/s stuff. Can you not have sex unless I kiss your feet? Shouldn’t we try a little sex since it will probably be on the table at this club thing?”

He growled a little, pulling her up, and suddenly her back was against the wall. Oh, there was that hot alpha male. She was deeply aware that with most men she would be screaming by now, but with Sir Dawson, she simply grinned, wrapping her legs around him.

God, how could she trust him so fast?

“I can fuck you anytime, sweetness,” he said, proving just how ready he was by rubbing his cock against her. “I want you to take me. I want you to take me so fucking bad.”

His hips moved, rocking against her. There was no damn question that the man wanted her. He and his brother were doing all sorts of things for her self-esteem. Was that what they would do for a sub? For their sub? She wrapped her arms around him, her legs forming a circle that held them together. “I want you, babe. But I want Ben, too. Be sure.”

It felt so damn right to call him babe.

His lips curved up. “I can handle it. I was being an asshole before. That’s something you’re going to have to be patient with. Asshole is my default state. I love your breasts. They’re perky. I think about them a lot.”

She snorted a little. She couldn’t help it. He kept her on her toes. He didn’t seem to have a filter, and she kind of loved him for it. He wouldn’t lie to her. It wouldn’t even occur to him to do it. “Uhm, I’m flattered.”

“If you’re done thinking about Nat’s boobs, we should probably get started on her training.” Ben stood at the door of the playroom, his voice a little forbidding, but a sweet smile played on his lips like he’d enjoyed the conversation he’d overheard.

Chase sighed. “He can be an asshole, too. Are you ready for this, sweetness? Because we can just get the fuck out of this town.”

He held her in place as though trying to let her feel his will. “I’m not supposed to leave the county.”

“I can have a new identity for you in thirty minutes. We can be on a plane an hour after that. Where would you like to go? Beach or mountains?”

He meant it. He would drop his whole fucking life and just walk out with her. She glanced up at Ben, whose face was a polite blank. He would want roots. He needed them. It was his function in life to ground those around him. If they went on the run, Ben might come with them, but he would never be happy. There was a core to Ben that needed the everyday life. It would be his gift to them.

She took a long breath, gathering her courage. “No. I want to catch this guy. I want to see if I can get this piece of me back.”

Chase set her on her feet. He put his forehead to hers. “Then get up there and get into position.”

She hustled up the stairs, feeling better than she had a couple of minutes before. She’d been scared, but two minutes of the Dawson brothers and she really wanted to try. It brought back her mom’s words of wisdom when she’d asked how to find a Dom.

When you find one who makes you want to bend, want to please him because he moves you, then you know to try.

Damn, but she wanted to try. She walked up the stairs, a little less afraid than she’d been before. And a little more excited. She wanted the sex. If she didn’t have to submit, she definitely wanted to try having sex with Chase. And Ben. And Ben and Chase.

God, she wanted a ménage. Her parents would be perfectly horrified. She was almost thirty years old and she’d finally found a way to rebel.

“Hello, honey.” Ben barred the door, his gorgeous chest on display. He wore a pair of jeans but had brilliantly eschewed his shirt. Neither of the Dawson brothers needed to ever wear a shirt.

“Hi.” It was stupid, but she couldn’t stop her grin.

Chase crowded her from behind. She was surrounded by Dawson hotness. It was really hard to think about her previous damage when enveloped by gorgeous masculinity.

Kind masculinity. Maybe that was the key. Nothing these two men had done to anyone had been less than kind. Well, except for Tate. They’d been pissy with Tate, but maybe he’d deserved it. Tate had definitely seen her with Chase in the dungeon. He should have asked before he’d tried to touch her. He’d been a Dom long enough to know better.

“Are you sure?” Ben asked.

Damn brothers weren’t going to make this easy. “I don’t need to talk about it anymore. I’m fine.”

She wasn’t, but she had to try.

Ben leaned over, kissing her forehead briefly, and then stepped back, allowing her inside. “The talking thing was important. Communication is the key to this. No clothes, Natalie. If these people are even slightly hard-core, you won’t be allowed clothes. Not in the dungeon. Take them off and find your position. I’m sorry, baby. I can’t go easy on you. I’ll have to be hard out in the field, so I need to know if you can handle it.”

A little trepidation started to crowd out her arousal. She stepped into the playroom because it wasn’t really a dungeon. It was too cheery. Bright late-afternoon light filtered in from the dual skylights on the ceiling. The whole room was painted in lovely blues and greens, the carpet plush under her feet telling her that the Barnes-Fleetwood clan wasn’t into anything too crazy. Blood play addicts would have insisted on easy-clean flooring. She would bet they never got past a little spanking, and some bondage and impact play.

Nothing hard-core. No knives past the ones Barnes would keep to quickly unleash his subs if he needed to.

“Nat, sweetheart, we’re waiting.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her compliance. Chase stepped in, standing next to his brother.

Nat couldn’t help but stare for a moment. This was important. Really important. She would figure out one way or another if she could do this. Years. She’d had years of therapy. She’d done the work. She realized deep down that it hadn’t been her fault.

So why couldn’t she really cry?

“That’s five swats. Every ten seconds you delay is another five.” Chase’s whole demeanor changed. He was taking charge, his shoulders squaring, his eyes hardening. She watched him go from slightly awkward guy to pure Dom in a second.

And damn if her pussy didn’t respond. Well, at least part of her knew what she wanted.

With trembling fingers she pulled her shirt over her head and quickly shoved her pants off. No one had brought her undies or a bra, so that was easy. Naked. She was naked in front of them.

“Natalie, did you have a problem with nudity before you were taken?” Ben asked. His voice wasn’t exactly gentle. Both men had changed when they entered the room.

The days before Hawk came back with the sweetness of a remembered song. “No. I loved it actually. After I moved out of my parents’ place, I spent most of my time naked if I was at home or at the club. I was planning a vacation to a resort before it happened. I guess I was a little bit of an exhibitionist.”

“Well, sweetness, when you’re that gorgeous, you have a lot to exhibit. Now, we’re up to twenty swats. Do you want to go for thirty?” Chase asked.

Damn distracting men. Without another thought except to keeping her ass in one piece, she sank to her knees. Jack Barnes was a kind man. She sank into the plush carpet almost sighing in pleasure at the familiar, comforting position. She wasn’t thinking at all, and she simply found her position, spine straight, head down, knees splayed wide.

God, that was her old position. She hadn’t gone into the more extreme position Hawk had insisted on. He would use a cattle prod on her until her arms were torturously straight behind her back. She hadn’t been terribly flexible when she’d been kidnapped, and Hawk had decided the best way to force her arms into his preferred position was to tie them into place and leave them there for twenty-four hours. Sometimes, her arms still ached from the nerve damage.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Ben’s soft voice pulled her out of that dark place. He got to his knees, one placed between her spread thighs, the other nuzzling the outside of her left leg. “I’m going to ask for one small change.”

She couldn’t try it. She couldn’t shove her arms behind her back. She wasn’t even sure they worked that way anymore. She had nerve damage.

Ben took her hands gently in his and flipped them over so the palms were up on her knees. “I just think this is prettier, but if you need them to keep your balance, just tell me, baby. We just need to make sure you do it the same way every time.”

Chase’s hand found her hair. “I think she’s perfect the way she is.”

“Suck-up,” Ben shot back.

Nat let the memory go. She had to stay on task or her men would end up fighting like five-year-olds.

Her men. She’d just thought it. Dangerous. They weren’t hers, but she could play with them for a while.

“I want to play.” It was a revelation. She fucking wanted to play. Years had drifted by and she’d just gone along, stringing the days together, just surviving. She wanted to feel something other than fear and numbness.

Ben’s hand tangled in her hair, and he pulled her head up. Those deep blue eyes were so serious. “I want to play with you. God, Nat, you have no idea how much.”

“I don’t know how much I’m playing, sweetness,” Chase said, staring down at her. “But I’ll give you what you need. Now, if you’re ready, lean forward and put that gorgeous ass in the air. You’re due some discipline, and then I really want to take a look at that body.”

Discipline. Presentation. Two words sure to get her anxiety up, but they hadn’t steered her wrong. Retraining. What Hawk had taken away, the Dawsons might be able to give back. She wouldn’t know until she’d tried. She’d needed the support of Chase’s body under hers that first night in the dungeon, but Ben helped her lean forward and get to her hands and knees. She was deeply aware of her vulnerability. She was alone in a house with two Doms. She was naked. They could do what they wanted with her.

A little shiver went across her spine. It wasn’t an entirely horrible thought when she knew damn well they wouldn’t really hurt her.

She shivered a little as she felt a big hand caress her ass.

“It’s a count of twenty, sweetness. I want to hear you.” Chase’s hand smacked her ass.

Fire lashed across her. Well, she’d wanted to feel something. She wasn’t numb now. “One.”

“Damn it,” Ben cursed. “Do you have to be so hard?”

She’d never liked it soft. She’d always enjoyed some rough play. “Do it again.”

“She likes it. There’s a smart-ass masochist in there buried under all that fear. I mean to find her.”
Smack. Smack. Smack
. “Count, please.”

“Two, three, four. Damn, Dawson. You hit like a girl.” He was holding back, and she didn’t like it. She’d liked where he’d taken her that first night. He’d pushed her. He’d treated her like a real sub, not a girl made of glass.

“And you push me like a fucking brat.”
Smack. Smack. Smack
. “Count.”

Every nerve in her ass was screaming, but damn, at least she felt. Tears pricked her eyes. “Five. Six. Seven.”

Smack
. “I…”
Smack
. “Will…”
Smack.
“Not…”
Smack.
“Be…”
Smack
. “Manipulated.”

“Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.” Every slap to her ass was exactly the same pressure, the same pain as the ones before. He wouldn’t hurt her. No matter how hard she pushed him. Tears coursed down. God, they felt so good. It wasn’t close to enough, but it felt good. “Please, Sir. Just a little more.”

“Now that I will respond to.”
Smack
. This one shook her.
Smack. Smack. Smack
.

That was what she needed. Pain flared, purifying her emotions and bringing everything she felt down to its base. Pain. Pleasure. A glorious mix of both. “Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.”

She cursed under her breath. Counting was a way of keeping her in the moment, and she didn’t really want to be in the moment. She wanted subspace. She wanted to float, but Chase was keeping her here.

Smack. Smack
. He never hit her in the same place twice. His hand flew across her ass and thighs.
Smack
. “Count for me, sweetness.”

Bastard wouldn’t let her drift. It was right there. She could still get there. The whole time she’d been held captive she’d never found it. No subspace. No escape. She’d had to be strong. She’d had to keep herself in the moment even when the moment was horrible. She’d clung to the agony. Pain had so oftentimes been the friend to her pleasure, refining it and pushing her over the edge. She didn’t call what Hawk had given her pain. Agony. Never-ending dark. Yes, that was what she’d been in. This was sparks of light. “Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Damn it, Chase.”