Get Off Easy (Noble House, #1) (31 page)

Saint and Boyce were talking softly close by. She wanted to turn her head, sit up, something. If only she could make her body behave.

“Seems she’s joining us again,” Saint said directly above her head. Something touched her cheek, stroking gently. Her eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the tender caresses until she felt a twitch high up inside her.

She gasped, trying to squirm away.

And realized she couldn’t move.

“Mmm...her nipples just peaked. Think her mind just caught up with her body.”

She was surrounded, wrapped so tightly all she felt was the press everywhere at once. Her head was still exposed, but they had robbed her of every sense but feel. Except for the vibrator nestled deep inside her.

It buzzed again.

She tried to arch, but the confinement held her firmly in place. The only thing she could do was accept the gentle vibration and let it wash through her, touching off trailing coils of heat all over her body. Frustrated, she stopped struggling and relaxed. The vibration stopped, leaving her filled with a warm gooey feeling. She licked her parched lips.

“Are you thirsty?” Boyce asked, his voice perfectly calm as though she wasn’t strapped down by a sheet of vinyl.

“Yes.”

“Yes...?”

“Yes, Sir,” she managed after a few attempts.

“Good girl. Drink.” She accepted the offered straw, taking a tentative sip. Cool liquid flowed over her tongue and she drank greedily.

“An electrolyte solution in your favorite flavor.”

Raspberries.

She drank more.

“Hungry?”

She shook her head as she licked her lips. Food was the last thing on her mind. “I’m fine.”

The men grew quiet again, which gave Grae a few moments to determine her surroundings. They were in the dining room, at the long, eight person table that she’d always thought was so out of the place in the informal atmosphere they’d created with their thrift store furniture. She wondered if this was the first time they’d done something like this.

Then she realized she didn’t care.

They’d stripped her of all rational thought earlier. When Saint had deprived her of all her senses. Now Boyce was forcing her to focus on each of them. Each breath she took. Each slow stroke of his loving touch against her forehead. He wanted her aware. In the moment. The latex he’d stretched over her had a slight texture. Tiny ridges, or bumps, scales even? Like a million fingers pressing against her skin.

Boyce had left her head exposed, her eyes and ears free of the confines Saint had used.

Her stomach growled when she caught the scent of something rich and decadent. Her heart skipped a beat. They were using her as table decoration. And as the vibrations between her legs were growing stronger, she realized she loved the hell of out this. She’d shunned this part of her for years by remaining locked away in her home office, watching video of others doing exactly this.

Exploring.

Playing.

Not denying themselves of the very thing that made them happy.

Even though she loved the sensations they were giving her, she was also frustrated. She felt the pressure of their touch, but all this damn slick texture against her skin kept her from feeling fully engaged.

Gah
. This was madness.

She was confined, bound, at their mercy. And aching. Aching so much. Aching for everything they were denying her even though she’d apologized and told them what had frightened her the most. What she needed most in the world.

Saint had used the fucking machine. Now Boyce used this sheet. This play would end like all the other times. Nothing was different. The other man was on the periphery, never giving her what she truly craved. What she wanted. What she came to them seeking.

Not a couple, but the men as a whole. She wanted more than the sex and domination. More than Noble House or the play. She wanted permanence. A strength she knew Saint and Boyce would give her.

She wanted their love.

Their vows.

Their collars.

Their rings.

Just how much equipment did they have hidden away in their place?

The realization slammed hard into her chest. This was their space. Their home. Their furniture was made to accommodate them, and the way they chose to live their life. Total immersion. This wasn’t just a passing fancy for them. A notion to entertain their healthy sex drives. This was who they were all the way down to the core of their bodies. To the blood flowing through them.

It was up to her to accept this aspect. Accept their love.

They’d given her what she wanted.

Saint collected her tears, ghosting his lips over her forehead as he swiped her face dry. “Frightening isn’t it? Realizing what you wanted all along really is yours for the taking? That even though you came prepared to accept this, that the reality is very, very different.” She nodded as he continued. “We gave you what you needed, Grae. It’s up to you to decide what to do with the gift you’ve been given. It was there all along, baby. You just needed to ask for it.”

Boyce’s face came into view. “We love you, sweetheart. We always have.”

“I know.” A soft whoosh of air caressed her skin as a vacuum seal was released. The stretchy covering was whisked away, and Boyce pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. Cradled her. Held her close.

The emotion she’d held in check for so long finally spilled over. Saint came to stand next to Boyce, to wrap his arms around them both. They cradled her close as she wept, as she released all the pent up emotion and frustration she’d been containing.

The purge was violent and soul-shaking, each tear stripping away her very essence. Each cry repairing her. Making her whole again. Building her in an even stronger version of herself that she could be proud of. One who wasn’t afraid of what the future held. Wasn’t ashamed of the very thing that brought her happiness.

And through it all, the men held her.

Told her it would be all right.

Told her they loved her.

W
hen Grae was able to think coherently again, she discovered she was still cradled between the men. But they’d moved from the dining room to the couch. The very same one where she’d fallen asleep in their laps a month ago. When she hadn’t been able to tell up from down. Left from right.

Something clinked as she moved her head.

Saint slipped it off his leg and repositioned her head against his thigh. “Comfortable?”

“Yes.” She spotted a band that almost disappeared in his wide hand. “What is that?”

“Your collar.”

Grae waited for her stomach to lurch, her lungs to burn, or her blood to ice. Instead, her heartbeat remained steady. Her brain clear.

“Such gracious acceptance.” Saint touched his lips to her forehead. “Lovely.” He held the item out for her inspection. The narrow strip of dark-green velvet was broken only by the gleaming silver pendant in the center. Three interlocked circles, two large on each end with a smaller one in the center.

She ran her fingers over the smooth metal, discovering the piece was thicker and heavier than she’d realized. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s yours.” Boyce fit himself between her legs, whispering against her throat. “Ours. If you will do us the honor of wearing it. Always.”

Saint touched the hollow of her throat. “Once this is in place, here, where everyone can see our mark of ownership, the collar doesn’t come off. Not without a hell of a lot of communication. And an understanding that Boyce and I will fight you with everything we are before we’ll accept the collar back.”

“I promise to wear your collar proudly.”

Boyce kissed the same place Saint had touched. “And we will honor your vow always.”

The metal was cold against her skin as Saint draped the collar around her throat. Somehow he managed to get it buckled in place without moving her. The weight against her throat was more than she expected, but a serene calm washed over her as she lay there with the men, wearing their promise.

She sat up suddenly, pulling out from underneath Boyce and gesturing for him to scoot closer to Saint. When they were positioned side by side, she crawled into their laps and put her head on their shoulders.

“Thank you.” Even though she knew she would never be able to adequately express how thankful she was.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that all straightened out. I’m afraid we’re not done here.” Saint’s breath skimmed hot over her skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck. “I owe Boyce.”

“For?”

“Overstepping my bounds as his sub during a scene.”

“You keep track?” Grae asked as she situated herself comfortably in Boyce’s arms. It felt good to lay against him. To feel his heartbeat tripping against hers. A sign he wasn’t unaffected by the breakthrough she’d just had or her acceptance of their collar. “With me in the mix now, that list is going to get very long.”

Saint glanced at Boyce. “Not normally, no. But I took control of a situation when it was clear he was in command. Tell me what you think, angel. You watched. I did string him along and hold his neck while I fucked him.”

Grae drew in a sharp breath. “What?” Surely he hadn’t...
no
.

“You think it was an accident your laptop crapped out on you? That I just happened to have one handy, and it just happened to be the very same one I used to hack into the club’s security system?” Saint clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Given how much you deal with computers, I expected you to figure it out much, much sooner.”

Mostly because she’d been too damn turned on to even think about the possibility. Then her mind had gotten so addled at the street fair, and she’d forgotten about her little trip down voyeur lane. “So, this has just been one big lesson in denial?”

“What’s the matter, angel? Pissed that someone turned your method on its ass and out bottomed you?” Though her eyebrows had drawn together, Saint smiled. “Admit it—you got off on it.”

“I should probably be pissed you’ve been playing mind games with me.”

“But you’re not.” He was right, she wasn’t. Not truly. “You didn’t answer me. Did you like what you saw?”

Despite the anger churning her stomach, she nodded. The images of the men tangled together at the club, toying with extreme edge play had lit a fire inside her like no other. “You did it on purpose. You knew I would watch.”

“Have to admit, you haven’t kept your voyeuristic desires secret. You’re welcome to watch any time. That won’t stop just because we’re a triad now.” Saint touched the metal at her throat as a reminder. Triad. Three. A unit. “In fact, I see things like that increasing in frequency.”

God, I hope so
.

“Enough talk.” Boyce tangled his fingers with hers, drawing their joined hands to his mouth as he pulled her away from Saint. He guided her to the bedroom, helping her to the center of the bed and placing her on her knees. “I’m going to tie him to that chair. Make him watch while I sink into this sweet ass that I’ve been thinking about for thirteen years. Then I’m going to let you suck on him, tease him, and maybe I’ll let you sit and ride him, ordering him not to come, but letting him feel you orgasm as much as you want. And then? We’re going to both take you. Fuck you. Love you. Until you are so spent, so lost to us, that you can’t say no when we take you again. And again.”

Boyce left her kneeling on the bed. He crossed to Saint in two easy strides, crushing their bodies together as his mouth slashed over Saint’s. Grae’s core went from a warm simmer to a blast furnace in the space of a heartbeat. This was one thing she was certain she would never tire of. And as much as she liked watching them on the Noble House feeds, observing them in living color was so much better. The heady aroma of sex and sweat hung around them, permeating the molecules in the air so they were ripe with pleasure.

Need.

Want.

Grae forgot about everything else and focused on the men.

Boyce deepened the kiss, tangling their tongues as he swept his hands through Saint’s hair. Yanked hard. Moved and tugged where he wanted Saint to move. And Saint went, letting Boyce control the power of the moment. Hold command and keep his head in place as Boyce continued to ravish his mouth.

The men were breathing heavily as they silently parted, both of their lips swollen and red from the fierceness and potency of the kiss.

Boyce began unbuttoning Saint’s shirt, gradually spreading the fabric to reveal the sculpted expanse of his chest. The strips of leather crossing over his chest. Grae risked a glance at Boyce’s face. And found him looking directly at her, smiling.

“I saw how interested you were in the harness at the fair. Since you didn’t get to see it fully, I thought you would appreciate it tonight.”

“Thank you.” Saint hadn’t been wearing the harness earlier when she’d arrived. She would have noticed the line of it under the thin tee he’d been wearing when he’d welcomed her inside. Felt it though the suit he’d been wearing as he held her against him as she purged emotions she’d been keeping pent up. Once Boyce had assumed control sometime while she’d been out of it, he must have asked Saint to put it on.