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Authors: Trent Evans

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The discovery for her would be that
whether she liked it or not, sometimes it wouldn’t matter.

He took up steady, slow plunges within
the seething, flooded clench of her cunt, wishing he could stay like this
forever, feeling her frustration at the urgency of her orgasm, held just out of
reach. His Ashley was learning that sometimes deprivation held its own sweet
rewards for her Master.

Soon, savoring the incoherent
pleadings behind her gag, and ever mindful that his movements wouldn’t send her
over the edge, he reached his climax, the attenuated surge of heat and pleasure
surging behind his balls the price he was willing to pay for denying his slave
her own orgasm.

His quiet groan, and the staccato
jerk of his hips against her was fortunately not enough to allow Ashley her own
orgasm, and he slid from the wetness of the clenching pussy, a mournful sound
from her warming his black heart once more.

“Remember this, my girl: you come
only
if your Sir allows it.” He smoothed her soaked hair over her head, fingers
tracing the way the gag’s straps galled the corners of her mouth. “You’ve been
a good girl, but you needed this. Being mine means you won’t always get what
you want — even if you think you deserve it.”

Chapter Eighteen

 

S
he needed to see about getting a softer
chair for her desk. Ashley winced, wiggling her hips, trying to find a more
tolerable position. Staying overnight at Parker’s certainly had its perks, but
frequently there were drawbacks as well. Like today.

That morning, before Ashley had
even been allowed to dress, Parker had decided that she was due some
discipline. She remembered his grin at her questioning look. “Just to remind
you who you’re accountable to. Now bend over.”

As the morning sun angled across
the rumpled mess of the covers, warming her naked back, she’d prostrated
herself over the edge of his bed. His cane had laid down lines of fire across
the cool flesh of her bottom, making her cry out by the sixth and final cut.
His hand palmed and squeezed her burning marks afterward, his growl of
satisfaction giving her hope that’d he’d been satisfied with her obedience.

She’d tried to stand, eager to
retreat to the bathroom to do what she could to soothe the marks that still
swelled across her ass. But his big palm planted itself between her shoulder
blades, the head of his erect cock brushing her inner thighs. A cruel hand
smacked the swollen, sensitive lips of her pussy until she’d understood his
requirements, spreading her thighs, the morning air cool against the wet sex
between her legs.

The hard cock had taken her breath
away as he took her, his touch rough, possessive, the hair of his belly fanning
the flames of the weals stretching across her asscheeks. He’d bent over her,
biting into her shoulder as he pounded her harder, the bed creaking with the
punishing thrusts. Then he’d come, holding himself so deep within her she
grunted at each spasm of his hips, the hot seed flooding within her.

Finished with her, he’d left the
room with a stinging slap to her flank, telling her she was not to clean his
come from her cunt.

So there she sat in her office, her
boss ten feet away, while Ashley tried to find a perch that didn’t make the
tramlines ache, trying to ignore the sticky semen plastering her panties to her
pussy. She hoped it wouldn’t wet her twill skirt too.

Debbie, her boss, stepped out of
her office, tilting her head toward the front door. “I’ll be gone the rest of
the day. You okay with closing up the office tonight?”

“Yeah, no sweat,” Ashley said,
distracted, biting her bottom lip at the throbbing pain of the weal that
stretched down to her upper thigh. There wasn’t a single seating position that
didn’t seem to gall it.

“See you tomorrow, Ashley.” Her
boss flashed a wan smile, switching off the light in her office. Frigid air
flooded the small space as the front door eased slowly shut behind Debbie.

There’d been several showings that
day, which had been a mercy, really. Ashley had wondered what the young couple
she’d shown the two bedroom ranch in Pateros to would think if they knew ropes
of carmine stretched across the skirt-clad swells of Ashley’s buttocks, the
white lace of her panties emphasizing the inflamed color of the marks. She’d
stared at them so long that morning in the mirror, she’d almost made herself
late for the first tour.

Walking through her day with a low
background buzz of lust, remembering how his cock felt as it staked her to the
bed, drove the breath from her lungs, the penetration deep, so deep.

She hoped her clients couldn’t
smell Parker’s seed soaking the gusset of her panties, but the feel of him
there, marking her, was in its own twisted way, a comfort. A part of him still
with her. She hung her head in her hands.

Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with
you girl?

They’d fallen into a pattern, a
comfortable, yet exciting routine. Days were hers, but nights, increasingly,
belonged to Parker. There were rules now, someone to be accountable to, and
painful consequences for failing to meet muster. It was all new to her, the
steady spotlight of attention on her from a man. Strangely, though she found
herself thinking of Parker more and more, she tried to purposely keep him at
arm’s length. There was something else going on here, a discovery that snuck up
on her day by day.

She was feeling better.

Life
could
go on after an
awful relationship. A fullness of being, a renewed enthusiasm for what might
lay in her future, buoyed her spirits now. At first it had been only a glimmer,
a faint ember of hope, but it had grown into a healthy fire with Parker’s help,
his attention (both loving and cruel) a sort of lodestar, a beacon of hope for
a shattered woman. A woman who’d once despaired of life offering anything but
misery and heartbreak.

The clock showed five minutes to
six, so she packed her laptop, gathered her purse and entered the security
code. Pausing outside the front door, she clutched her coat closer against the
chill, a fine, lazy snowfall underway. She decided to walk to meet Parker for
dinner rather than drive, the cold of the winter evening something she savored,
the crisp air invigorating to her lungs. Nobody seemed to walk anywhere
anymore, even in a smaller town, so she had the route practically to herself,
pausing only occasionally for a turning car, the tires crunching through the
freshly fallen snow.

As good as she felt, as hopeful as
the future now seemed, there were problems. She still had no concrete idea who
this man really was, what drove him, what he cared about — other than her. He
was in many ways, a cipher, never really letting her get too close. It was
early in the relationship though, so she yet hoped one day (soon) to be able to
access that inner sanctum, to really learn who Parker was, to see the man
behind that steely facade of the Dom. Her nipples stood up under her blouse — he’d
forbidden her bras unless the wobble of her unfettered breasts would endanger
her job — at the image of his stubble-shadowed, clenched jaw, the cold glitter
of those fathomless gray eyes, like those of a predator — pitiless, implacable.

She cut across the street,
tiptoeing through a patch of slush around a steaming manhole cover, then
hopping back up onto the smooth white of an untrammeled snow-covered sidewalk.
The restaurant was in sight now, the dangling white of Christmas lights already
blazing despite the fact that it wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet.

The mystery of Parker wasn’t all of
it though, not by a long shot. There was the issue of Drake — she hadn’t seen
him since that night in the shower. Parker told her he’d been called away on
business, but she sensed it for the deception it must be. For some reason, he
kept himself separated from them. Was Drake laying low, as confused about the
situation as she was?

But was
she
really confused?
Did the idea of being shared by these two men, being … subject to them both,
actually give her pause? If she were brutally honest with herself, she’d see
her feelings for what, deep down, she knew them to be.

Extreme, almost giddy excitement,
and an unsettling, consuming anticipation for what might come next.

Stupid girl. One man isn’t
enough to break your heart? You’re going to risk it with TWO?

She wanted to see him though, talk
to him, find out what he was really thinking about all this. Most of all she
wanted to know what those masculine, powerful hands of his felt like on her
flesh, claiming, controlling — taking. Her body shuddered at both the cold air
licking around her legs, the thin tights not quite keeping the chill away (another
rule of Parker’s: she wasn’t permitted pants anymore — ever), and the thought
of what those hands were capable of. The heaven or hell his touch could
inflict. When would Drake return and finish what they’d started? If the
frequency with which his dark eyes appeared in her dreams were any indication,
that day couldn’t come soon enough.

She reached the restaurant, with
its wide, weathered stone steps leading up to the glass front doors. Despite
the biting cold, the covered deck right off the entrance actually hosted a few
hardy souls, all seated close to several propane heaters, the air around them
shimmering with the welcome heat.

Her phone buzzed from the depths of
her purse, and she stopped on the sidewalk to dig it out, stepping aside for a
jogger to pass, white breath billowing in his wake.

The phone showed Tara.

“Hi Tara! What are you doing
calling me? I thought you and Bri—”

“He showed up again, Ash.”
Something about the evenness in Tara’s voice unsettled her.

No. Not now, dammit.

“Terry?” She knew the answer, even
as she hoped that it wasn’t true.

“He wanted to know where you were.”
Tara’s voice paused. “He wasn’t taking ‘I don’t know’ for an answer either.”

Fury surged in Ashley’s blood. “Did
he—”

“No, no. Brian would’ve killed him,
big bad cop or not.”

“Thank God.” Ashley glanced up at
the front doors, hoping she wouldn’t see the tall, impeccably dressed Parker
behind the glass, his eyes flashing disapproval at her making him wait. There
would be penalties for being late, no matter what the excuse.

“He … it wasn’t good, Ashley. He
looked a lot different. I don’t know what he’s into, but I’ve never seen him
like that.”

“I just — I don’t even want to
think about him, Tara. Things are good.” She glanced up at the doors once more.
“They’re better than good. I think I might stay out here, permanently.”

Tara sighed. “I thought so. Look,
just tell me this. Is he treating you well? I mean, really well? You don’t
deserve anything less, Ash.
Ever
.”

Her smile felt good, almost as good
as the memory of Parker’s hands caressing the soft weight of her breasts that
morning as his mouth plundered hers. “He’s great. Really … great.”

“Well, shit.” Mischievous wariness
crept into Tara’s voice. “I’m gonna have to come visit the hinterland one of
these days and do some investigating for myself. I suspect you’re …
compromised.”

“Is that what you call it? I call
it getting my brains fucked out.”

Tara’s laugh warmed her heart, and
for a moment she was able to let the thought of Terry fade away. She knew
though that something had to be done. She knew him … and if things kept going
down this road, it wasn’t going to end well. For anyone.

Ashley glanced at her watch, a
fluffy snowflake alighting onto the face. “I better go, Tara. I’ll call you
tonight after dinner. I … I don’t wanna be late.”

“Figures, slut.” Tara’s voice
lowered. “There’s something else you need to know though.”

“Yeah?” Laughter erupted from the
deck and Ashley turned away, putting a hand over her off ear.

“Brian went down to see if he could
find Terry, try to catch him at the end of his shift. Just wanted to talk some
sense into him, if he could.”

“Oh great,” Ashley muttered. Even
when she was still with Terry the two men had never exactly been tight. More
like co-belligerents.

“Ash, he’s gone.”

“What? Like gone? How does Brian
know that? Terry would disappear for days at a time. Standard, for that
asshole.”

“No,
really
gone. Desk
sergeant told him Terry’d quit. Gun, badge, car. All of it.”

“What the
fuck
.” She waved
her arm. “That job was … everything to him. Jesus, he’s losing it. Really
losing it.”

“That’s what I thought too.” Tara
paused. “Does your man—”

“Parker.”

“Okay — Parker. Does he own a gun?
Can he handle himself?”

“Uh, yeah no worries there.” Absurdly,
she thought of the antique musket mounted up over his hearth. “He’s ex-military,
I do know that.”

Ashley frowned, knowing it was past
time to learn more about this mysterious man. In the bedroom, Parker was
regularly beating her, fucking her, and basically treating her — thank God —
like a five dollar whore.

Yet she still didn’t even know what
Parker did for a
living
.

“Well, ask him anyway. I don’t like
this, Ash.”

“No shit,” Ashley whispered. “You
don’t think …?”

The flatness of Tara’s voice
chilled her. “Brian checked Terry’s house. His truck’s gone too, Ashley.”

* * *

The place was packed, the warmth of
the roaring fireplace no doubt drawing everyone in from the increasingly bitter
cold evening. Standing inside the entryway of the restaurant, she scanned the
boisterous, crowded space, searching for the man she saw in her dreams more
than she cared to admit, the savory smells of food making her stomach growl.

A deep voice rumbled in her ear,
startling her, and a steely hand closed over her upper arm. “I’ll take you to
him.”

“Drake?’ She turned her head,
peering up into the dark eyes she’d missed since … that white hot encounter in
the shower.

Missed? You barely know him.

“Drake, where have you … ?”

“Let’s go,” he said, pulling her
behind him as if she were a little girl. Trying to ignore the narrowed eyes and
thin lips of the women, and the raised eyebrows and low chuckles of a few of
the men, she let Drake guide her through the throng.

A cheer rang out from the crowd,
and she yelled into Drake’s ear. “What’s going on?”

His thumb cocked to the right. On a
huge big screen hung over the bar, a football game was in progress. “Seahawks.
Now, come on.”

They found him all the way at the
back — which seemed to be his favorite haunt at a restaurant — watching the
crowd, gaze roving over everyone, and not really seeing any of them. It
reminded her of the way a male lion might look upon his pride; a supreme
confidence, and perhaps even indifference, to what went on around him.

Then his gaze found them, and
locked with hers, his devilish grin making her knees wobbly. Thankful for the
modesty afforded her by her charcoal suit jacket, she felt her nipples pebble,
rubbing against the smooth silk of her blouse.

Drake stopped her by the booth
where Parker sat, his arms raised upon the top edge of the seat to either side,
his shirt pulled tight over a magnificent chest she longed to lick her way
across, the tight brown nipples under the fabric calling to her lips.

She moved to sit, but Parker’s
shaking head stopped her. “You’re forgetting something, girl.”

Drake’s deep chuckle made her
blush, as he leaned a hip against the deep brown leather end of one of the
booth’s backrests.

“What — I don’t …?” She looked from
Parker to Drake, whose dark eyes gave her nothing … other than the urge to jump
him like an oversexed teenager.

“Take off that jacket, for one
thing, Ashley. We’ve been over this before.” Parker’s beckoning hand extended
toward her. “Come on. Off.”

Is he serious about this? Fuck.

Though there wasn’t an empty seat
in the place and the background noise was almost too loud to even hear speech,
she felt very, very alone standing there, the men’s eyes perusing her at their
leisure. Still, she knew there was nothing for it, and slipped off the modest
protection of her jacket.

“Now, you know what’s next, right?”
Parker’s grin faded in an instant. “Don’t play dumb with me. Get on with it.”

Feeling as if the eyes of the
entire planet were locked upon her, she turned slowly in place, fighting the
urge to close her eyes, knowing it would look even more strange if she did.

“Stop there.” Parker’s voice was louder
than necessary, and it made her want to hang her head. Despite her
embarrassment, she could have etched glass with her nipples — that fact no
doubt evident to all against the sheer fabric of her blouse — and her pussy was
already swimming.

“I like that skirt with those
tights, don’t you Drake?”

“Uh huh.” Drake’s deep voice was the
kind of sound that drew everyone’s attention. “You could just let her wear
pants on days like this though.”

“Her days of wearing pants are
over, my friend. She’ll just have to adapt.”

Her fists clenched at her side, and
she forced herself not to meet any of the several sets of eyes watching with
interest, football game or not. A server, a soul patch darkening his smooth
chin, brushed by her, a tray of dirty dishes in one hand.

“Straighten those shoulders, girl,”
Parker said. “You’ll stand up there until you do what you’re told, you know.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The sheer blouse pulled tight over
the swells of her breasts, and she really did close her eyes at the smattering
of applause she could hear over mumbled voices. She knew her hard nipples
practically called to every male eye in the house — and that was how Parker
liked it.

If it were possible, she would have
gladly sunk into the very Earth.

“I do like those skirts.” The
admiration and naked lust in Drake’s voice both intensified her mortification
and made her lonely clit sing. She shouldn’t like being admired like this — in
public, no less — but her body’s reaction didn’t lie. And she had to face the fact
that, deep down, she
did
crave the approval of Parker — and Drake.

Admitting that to herself was both
freeing and unsettling.

“That’s quite an ass isn’t it?”
Parker let her stand there for all to see for a moment longer, while murmurs
from the crowd continued amid renewed roaring at the game. “Okay, get over
here, girl.”

Drake moved aside, allowing her to
scoot along the bench to sit next to Parker. Rather than take the opposite side
though, Drake simply sat back down on her other side, trapping her between
them. His broad shoulders brushed her, and she pulled closer to Parker, who
made no attempt to make more room for her. Soon enough it was clear she’d just
have to adapt to eating her meal sandwiched between the two big men.

Such a hard life you lead,
Ashley.

A hand squeezed her thigh. “Keep
them open, just like we’ve talked about.”

Glancing at Parker, she bit the
corner of her lip. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” Parker said, leaning
over the table so that he could see Drake. In that simple gesture she’d been
reduced to scenery. “She knows good and well that if we were at a less crowded
place, I’d be making her pull that skirt up and those tights down when she sits
at the table.”

Drake looked down with a smile,
shaking his head. “Lot to handle isn’t he?”

“Yes … Sir.” They really hadn’t
talked about how she was to address Drake, or even if it mattered … or really
much of anything else. What the hell
was
going on here?

The server came to take their
orders, Ashley not allowed — as usual — to order for herself. Though she’d
normally have ordered a nice salad, Parker got her a huge greasy cheeseburger,
and a plate of fries so large she was pretty sure she could lay down on it.

Her quizzical look prompted a small
negative movement of Parker’s head, his suddenly flinty gaze fixed on her once
more. “I see another discussion is needed once we get home about questioning. I
think you do this on purpose, bad girl.”

Lowering her gaze, she wrung her
hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, Sir. I just … it’s a lot of food.”

“A little junk food once in a while
won’t kill you.I was serious when I said I wanted you filled out for me. For
both of us.”

She looked to Drake, whose dark
eyes pinned her in place, their warm depths as welcoming as Parker’s were
dangerous.

“I’m looking forward to seeing the
results too, I won’t lie,” Drake said. “You’ve got a beautiful ass — but I want
to see it bigger, rounder.”

Her mouth fell open, and once she’d
confirmed words had fully failed her, she snapped it shut.

“She’s got the body type for it.
Just wait and see, Drake.” Parker winked at him, as Ashley flushed scarlet. “Dr.
Park is on the case.”

Drake’s laugh sent butterflies
fluttering in her belly, even though she was quite certain she could listen to
the smooth timbre of that laugh forever and never tire of it.

“Are you planning on telling us
what the phone call was for, or did you think we didn’t notice you out on the
street?”

No, it’s not time. Not now.

“Haven’t seen Erik in awhile.” She
took a quick gulp of ice water. “Doesn’t he usually come out here for breaks?
Holidays are coming up.”

Parker’s jaw hardened. “I told him
to stay away for awhile.”

“Why?” She’d never admit the kind
of impression he’d made on her that night. How easy it was to be with all three
of them. Maybe someday she’d know what to do with those thoughts.

“I don’t want him around you for the
time being. He’s never said it in so many words but it’s obvious—” Parker’s
glance slid to Drake, the big man responding with a quick nod. “—he … really
likes you.”

“What?” Every time she thought she’d
figured out how to navigate this situation, one of these men would drop another
bombshell. A young guy like him? She thought of herself as an old lady, the big
four –oh not that far away. “Seriously? I mean — I’m … “

Articulate as always.

“I talk to him once a week.” Drake
shifted in his seat. “He asks about you all the time. He’d probably be pissed I
told you that — but I’m bigger than him.”

Ashley smiled, covering her mouth
with her hand. Was this really happening? She’d never given it a serious thought,
really. Hell, she was a fucking freshman in
high school
the year Erik
had been born. No, no way was that possible.

That’s what this life you’ve
chosen is all about — making the dreams, reality. You can stop lying to
yourself now.

It was too much to think about
right now. Someday there might be time to see where that road might lead.

“You’re avoiding the question
though, Ashley,” Parker said. “Your phone call?

She darted a glance at Parker, who
uncharacteristically, didn’t meet her gaze, staring out into the crowded
restaurant. “I … it was nothing.”

“Don’t do that.” Drake’s deep voice
held a tense note she hadn’t heard before. “You looked like you saw a ghost
while you were talking.”

“It was him, right?” Parker’s voice
was barely audible above the din. “Terry.”

Her nod felt more sheepish than she
knew it needed to be. It really wasn’t any of their business, but she felt …
deceptive keeping it from them.

When did this become about them,
Ash?

“He’s disappeared. Tara called—”
she brushed a hand over her lips “— to tell me. Warn me, maybe.”

This time Parker did turn to her,
and she felt the tension hum off the big body of Drake, the power of the
emotion emanating from the two men making her mouth dry and her pussy melt. “You
should be staying with me.”

“With us,” Drake added. “No doubt
about it.”

She crossed her arms under her
breasts, not caring for the moment about the way it showcased their generous
curves for all to see. “I can take care of myself. I have to learn how to be a
big girl again. Without some man to come riding to the rescue.”

“Is that what you think it would
be?” Parker laid his hand on the table, palm up, and Ashley put hers over it,
their fingers entwining. “Don’t you think it’s time? You’re at our house half
the time anyway.”

Ashley looked down, then peeked up
at Parker. “Yes, in the bedroom. I don’t think I’ve spent longer than five
minutes in the living room, though.”

Drake smiled, scratching his chin. “You
ain’t missin’ much.”

Parker flashed a quelling look at
his friend. “I don’t hear you complaining, girl. Not that that’s allowed
anyway.”

Her silent gaze was enough to get
him shaking his head, with a rueful quirk of his sensual lips. “Tell me. Speak
freely. I’m still your Sir, but I want to hear it. All of it.”

“No, it’s not that.” She hoped her
quick smile didn’t look as forced as it felt. “I love … it’s been really great.
Wonderful.”

Tell them.

“But I’m not ready for that.” She
looked from Parker back to Drake, their gazes locked upon her. “I want to be
sure it’s right. The right time, the right reasons.”

“Why?” Parker squeezed her hand
firmly, just past the point of comfort. The strength in those hands might scare
a regular girl. For a depraved slut like her, apparently, that dark promise
just made her clit throb.

There’s no fucking hope for you.

“Don’t you think this has all been,
well, a little … sudden?” Ashley reached for her water glass, taking a sip. “I
mean, you can’t tell me you haven’t wondered if we’re being a little
reckless
with all this.”

“That’s his middle fucking name.”
Drake raised a big hand to get the server’s attention.

“Shut it, Drake.” Parker pulled
Ashley closer to him, closing both hands over hers. “We need to keep you safe.
We can’t do that if you aren’t kept close. Very close.”

“Three hundred feet isn’t close
enough for you?” She winced as soon as the words left her lips. That was
probably going to cost her a sore ass later on.

Oh, you poor girl.

“No, it’s not.” Drake crowded
closer to her, her body giving way to his immovable, muscular bulk. “In our
house. That’s where he wants you.”

“Just him, Drake?” She was already
in deep shit, she might as well complete the job.

Now it was Drake’s turn to stare
off into space. “No, not just him.”

In a move bolder than she would
ever have thought she was capable of, she grasped one of Drake’s huge hands,
moving it to the table, and laying her palm over it. “Drake … I need to know.
Is this what you want too? Do you … have feelings for me?”

“Presumptuous, isn’t she?” Drake
directed his crooked grin at Parker, as if Ashley wasn’t even there. “You
taught her this?”

“No, she’s … we’ll be having a
discussion tonight about this.” Parker squeezed her fingers, and she hissed at
the pain. “Take your hand away from his and lay it on your lap. Now.”

“Parker, wait.” Her heart began the
oh-shit-you’re-busted-but-this-is-hot-as-fuck trip hop in her chest. “I don’t …
?”

“Just do what he tells you, Ashley.”
Drake’s voice was so low it was felt more than heard, even over the cacophony
of the restaurant, the tone of that voice making her pussy clench. How
something as simple as a voice could have that effect simply stunned her. But
there was no denying it.

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