The Dom With the Perfect Brats (25 page)

Gemma leaned in, expression sly, and ran her tongue lightly up from the base of his cock to the tip. She kissed there chastely, like she’d kiss the cheek of an old woman from her book club. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to relax back into the couch and let her do her worst. He was trapped with Izzy cradled in his arms, and his girl knew it. Bitch. He laughed at himself.

Josie would have gone down on him like a good girl. Gemma was going to make this interesting.

Her little tongue flicked here and there, driving him mad. She nipped gently – just enough to make him nervous, but the threat of pain drove his arousal higher. In a few minutes he was panting and his cock hadn’t even gone into her mouth yet. He was afraid to look at his balls, because he was sure they were a frightening shade of blue. A rumbling growl of frustration escaped him.

Isadora’s eyes flew open. She took stock of his expression, then turned her head and saw what Gemma was doing. Snickering, she slid off his lap and yanked up her jeans, then padded off to the bathroom.

“No
, Izzy, don’t leave me!” Gemma squeaked, scrambling to get up.

“Stay down!” Cross bellowed at her. Unceremoniously, he grabbed her by the back of the hair. He shoved his cock into her mouth and she whimpered a gagged protest. For a minute
, he fucked her mouth hard. She heaved a little and he eased off.

Her expression was wary instead of mocking now, but she swirled her tongue and sucked instead of trying to storm off. He stroked the back of her neck and told her how good she was.
Her green eyes became half-lidded, and she made small sounds of pleasure as she played with him – not keeping a rhythm but keeping him on the brink. The girl had a clever tongue.

Cross
unhooked the back of her bra, then peeled her t-shirt up and let her breasts bounce free. Her nipples were rock hard. His rolling them gently between his fingers made her moan onto his cock. He increased pressure, pinching them and maintaining the pressure. Gemma grunted but kept sucking. More pressure and her distressed, aroused moans made her cocksucking form sloppy. She writhed at his feet, looking up at him with desperate, pleading eyes.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. With a grunt, he came hard, grabbing
the back of her head and forcing himself deep into her throat. To his surprise, she took the treatment without protest. When he was good and done, he let her go and sprawled back amongst the couch cushions, breath ragged.

A small sound drew his attention. Izzy was sitting at the far end of the couch, grinning at them like they were a
TV show. How long had she been sitting there? He winked at her.

Gemma crawled up on top of him, looking feral, one tear rolling down her cheek, from choking on him, he assumed. Holding her gaze, he caught her tear with his finger and licked it off. Gemma
half-purred and half-groaned, her frustrated arousal apparent. She straddled him and ground her hips.

“What’s wrong, girl?”

She huffed and grabbed his wrists, trying to pin them above his head. Without effort he caught her arms and held them behind her back. In this position her lovely, round breasts swayed in his face and his mouth sought them out. He latched gently onto one and sucked. She squealed.

“Oww!
That hurts! I think you bruised it earlier. Both of them.”

Cross stopped sucking and
Gemma made a sound of disappointment, thrusting the other one in his face. Grabbing her arm, he flipped her face up in his lap. She gazed up at him and pouted sexily, calculating. He pressed hard on her clit, through her jeans. Gemma caught her lip between her teeth and rubbed against his hand. Without warning he slapped her three times between the legs.

“Ugh!” The fire in her eyes burned higher, her expression turning from self-assured desire to unconcealed need. “What? What did I do?”

“You’re being pushy. You have to remember that just because you’re horny doesn’t mean you’re in charge. If you want something, you ask politely.”

The words left her mouth quickly and meaninglessly.
“Please, will you fuck me, Sir?”

He chuckled at how she was willing to fake submission to earn an orgasm.
But he’d gotten the real thing from her too often to be satisfied with acting. When she did submit, it was so beautiful he got caught up in its spell. They clicked deep down, but she didn’t give him the gift of her submission – he had to tie her down and pry it from her...almost literally. “No. And no touching yourself or getting Izzy to touch you until I give you permission.”

“What!” She looked shocked then outraged. “You’re just going to leave me like this?”

He rubbed his thumb over her lips and felt his cock stir again at the memory of her desperation while she went down on him. Her eyes became unfocused and her anger seemed to fall away. “Until we come back from Jude’s. If you’re a good girl I’ll make you come hard as soon as we get home. If you’re a bad girl, I’ll wind you up again then play with Izzy and make you watch. Understand?”

Gemma’s attitude deflated and she actually looked
hurt. Was he being too hard on her? He kissed her gently.

“Besides, we’re out of time. Come on
.” He picked her up and set her on her feet then pulled Izzy up too. “The store’s closed now and Winter should have gone home. I need to dress you in something presentable and get us all to Jude’s house in an hour.”

He paused a moment, watching them straighten and refasten their clothing before he remembered that he needed to zip his jeans. These girls systematically addled him.

The light was flashing on his answering machine, but he didn’t feel like listening to his mother rant. Leading them down the inside stairs into the back room of the store only took a minute. He’d added the locking door between the two spaces when an unsuspecting, curious employee had accidentally walked in on him fucking one of his exes. Her wrists and ankles had been secured to the same spreader bar and he’d been keeping her upright. Cross was so surprised at being interrupted he’d almost dropped her on her face. He winced at the memory. The female employee had given him frightened eyes and a wide berth during all of their interactions after that. She quit about a week later, saying she’d always dreamed of working at the movie theater down the street. Now he tried to only hire non-vanillas, in case something unexpected like that happened again.

His newest employee, Winter, was so kinky that if she’d been the one to walk in
on them she probably would have been bored for the girl and written him a how-to manual. She was hot, in a pincushiony kind of way, but they had a platonic, big brother/little sister dynamic going on. She wasn’t submissive either – just really into pain.

The store was, indeed, empty of people. The blinds were already pulled so they had privacy.
He turned to his little submissives and arched a brow. “Both of you strip to your underwear. No bras.”

They grumbled, but obey
ed. He eyed the contents of his store. Was it bad that lately he’d been looking at new shipments with his girls in mind? The store made good money – in fact, young people drove all the way from the city to shop there – but now when he was working all he could think of was his giggling girls trying on clothes in the fitting rooms. It was like having an oversized closet.

He picked out the same outfit in different colors. Black for Gemma, blue for Izzy. The former held out her hand to take the clothes from him. She looked impatient and uncomfortable
standing in the middle of the store in her panties. His mind drifted to things he could tie them to and ways he could bind them together. So many different possibilities with two. She shook her open hand at him as though to remind him she was waiting.

“That’s an imperious gesture for a girl who just had her mouth used. I’m dressing the two of you tonight. Deal with it.”

He went to Izzy then put the clothing down on a folding table. The blue bustier latched in the front without much issue and settled into place. He went behind her and laced her in.

“Are you sure we’re not supposed to wear a shirt under this, Cross?” Izzy folded her arms over the tops of her breasts, but he pulled them away from her body so he could see her.

“Nope. Perfect.” Her breasts swelled over the top of the garment, almost spilling over but not quite – keeping the observer in a perpetual state of hope that a wardrobe malfunction would occur.

He dressed Gemma in hers then stood back to admire his work. The girls were lucky Gemma had just gotten him off or he’d be fucking them over a display case. They looked good enough to be the main course at tonight’s dinner.

Next, he gave them super short, flared skirts and tried to watch disinterestedly as they put them on. His cock was paying attention but he couldn’t give in. They were going to be very late if he did.

“Good
. Let’s go,” he growled when the skirts were tied.

They scooped up their clothes and turned to follow him back out past the
fitting rooms. Izzy paused at the bank of mirrors.

“Fuck, Cross! I can’t go out in this without leggings or something, at least! We’re going to get arrested.” Her brow furrowed and she pulled at the hem of the skirt as though there was a secret
“make skirt longer” switch there somewhere. “If I lean over to pick something up...”

“Then Jude, Q and Sabrina will get a pretty eyeful. Let them look. You’re hot. Besides, it’s not like we’re going somewhere public or vanill
a. Women dress like this at BDSM clubs all the time – although most dress in less. I won’t make you walk around topless there...this time.”

“
What?” Gemma snapped her head from the mirror to look at him. “You know Izzy and I aren’t exhibitionists. Don’t you think you should ask us first before you start talking clubs and shit? And what about this Jude guy? Is this like an interview to see if we could swing with them?”

“
Are you planning to make us do naughty things with his subs? Are they going to try to touch us?” Izzy hung back, still fiddling with the bottom of the skirt.

“Whoa, whoa. It’s not like that, I told you. They’re in a committed relationship. I won’t lie – there’s a chance that they’ll check you out, but nothing will come of it. The three of them are pretty vanilla when it comes to hanging out. They won’t hide that they’re kinky, but they won’t freak you out. Go ahead and flirt with Jude if Q doesn’t scare the hell out of you. His girls think other women flirting with him is amusing.”

“Why would I flirt with another guy? I’m not like that, Cross.” Gemma frowned. “I think I’m going to be too worried about maintaining my modesty to enjoy this.”

Cross sighed. “What would help?”

“I can handle the bustier. These skirts need leggings if we’re wearing them someplace other than bent over your desk.”

Stalking back to them only took a few steps. His arousal was now only tenuously under control. He could vividly imagine how
having them draped over his desk in those little skirts would look and now he wanted it for real. They both looked up at him in awe and he wondered what they were seeing in his expression.

He
pulled himself together. How could he want them so bad, still? Four months. Hadn’t he been getting bored of Josie by now? Whenever they were apart for work he grumbled at people and felt sorry for himself. When they were together, time slipped by so quickly that by the end he felt cheated – as though someone had fast forwarded part of his life. There was no contentment unless they were in his bed together, the girls curled up against him after they’d played. The long talks they had together. Watching them make googly eyes at each other or at him.

Again, the thought nagged at him that he should warn them Godfrey Cross didn’
t fall in love. But not now. Not when they looked up at him with expressions of mixed anticipation, defiance, and adoration. Couldn’t he just have this for a little longer at least? It wouldn’t last forever, he knew, three people in a relationship. Jude and his girls were an exception.

“Fine. Either pick leggings to wear with the skirt or wear your own jeans instead. If you don’t choose to wear the skirt, bring it upstairs with you anyway. You’ll be wearing it later.” He smirked.

“Are we wearing our collars?”

“No. Those are play collars, to be used in context pretty much exclusively. I made Gemma wear hers at the tattoo convention
awhile back for the fun of it.” Gemma looked at him dubiously, obviously not thinking it had been fun. “When a Dom collars someone formally, the sub might wear a collar in public, or might wear a public collar that looks like a necklace. Q wears a public collar that Jude gave her. Sabrina wears a collar that symbolizes both Jude and Q, because she belongs to both of them. Check them out when we’re visiting, if you’re curious.”

In about three seconds flat, Izzy had grabbed and slipped on a pair of leggings that went surprisingly well with the skirt, while Gemma shucked off the skirt and pulled on her skinny jeans. The
girls didn’t match anymore, but he realized he liked it better. They looked like themselves – Gemma and Izzy. Not a perfect matching set he’d first imagined bringing into the club on a tandem leash. Despite how tempting that thought was, for some reason, he preferred his girls this way – dressed in their own clothes, relaxed and comfortable. They didn’t look like obedient cloned subs, but they still looked like his. Maybe more so.