“Because of Vince?” Kimberly asked.
Cherie winked. “What can I say? I’ve always attracted dangerous men.”
“You just don’t know how relieved I am to know you aren’t bowing before crazy madmen and acting like you can’t breathe without their permission.”
“At one time I couldn’t,” she said, her voice laden with infinite regret. “Sweden practiced mind control to the extreme.”
“But Cherie is a survivor,” Sebastian said, rolling Cherie’s luggage across the floor. “And she beat him at his own game.”
“She certainly did,” Wyatt added. “Mind over matter is a powerful tool.”
“I couldn’t agree more. So, Cherie, where are you headed?” she asked, definitely glad Sebastian and Wyatt decided to take the train back to Columbia rather than spend a few days in New York. She didn’t want to breathe the same air as Jason and Heather.
“I am going to see a Broadway play,” Cherie announced. “My sister lives here and we’ve never been to the theatre. After a close call with death, I’ve decided to reconsider how I live my life from here on out. Maybe if I leave the drama to the professionals, I won’t need so much of it in my life.”
“I hear you.” Kimberly embraced her. “I hope we meet again.”
“As long as you’re with these two, we’ll be the best of friends.”
“So what are you trying to say?” Kimberly teased.
“Break their hearts and you’ll answer to me.”
“You have no worries there.”
“Sounds like somebody’s heart is already invested in the idea of forever.”
* * * *
After Cherie left, the private car was like a revolving door of professional crime busters. Detectives came and went asking questions about Sweden, Jason, Vince, and a mix of other players who had apparently won the attention of international investigations. By the time the train pulled out of Penn Station, Kimberly was exhausted.
“I spoke to your family,” Sebastian said, pursuing her like a savage beast, a man with a mission. “They were told not to disturb us until we return you home safe and sound.”
“I still need to talk to my sisters,” she teased them, retrieving her cell phone and clutching it to her chest. “I’ll only be a few hours. Maybe the two of you can find something to do. Perhaps a couple of exhibitionists are using their suites for open displays of affection.”
Wyatt blocked her path to the door and Sebastian closed the distance from behind. Slipping his hand over her shoulder, he whispered at her ear, “Let me have the phone, sub.”
A sudden shiver shimmied over her chest and her nipples spiked as his fingertips skimmed over the curve of her neckline. Releasing the phone, she slowly exhaled.
“Anticipation,” Wyatt rasped, a masculine growl pushing the word beyond his lips. “There’s nothing quite like it.”
“I disagree,” she said, pressing her lips against his.
“Share.” Sebastian tilted her chin to her shoulder and smothered her mouth with a ravenous kiss of his own.
Throwing her arms over Wyatt’s shoulders, she rubbed her body against his, enjoying the steady rise in his denim. “I needed this.”
“But can you handle this?” he asked, a glimmer of dark lust in his eyes as he lifted her shirt.
“I can handle anything you throw at me,” she assured him, curving her arm around her back and playing with the wisps of hair at Sebastian’s nape.
“Let’s put that to the test,” Sebastian suggested. “What do you say?”
“Considering Kimberly is certain she wants to be our sex slave, we can safely assume her answer is yes.”
Tied and bound to a dancer’s pole in the center of their small private bedroom, Kimberly stretched her arms high over her head, trying to minimize the pressure in her pussy, the throbbing beat of a vile little vibrator with no mercy.
Clad only in silk pajama pants, Sebastian and Wyatt were stretched out on their individual berths, observing the action between her pussy lips, acting as if they were afraid the harness she wore wouldn’t hold the dancing dildo in place.
“Don’t come,” Wyatt warned her, his eyes glistening with desire. “You’ll come only with permission from now on,
slave
.”
Oh how she wished—on both counts—that were true. She wanted to be their love slave, their sex slave, the only woman they would ever desire. And at the same time, she realized her limitations, too.
Her clamped nipples beaded to hard nubs as she clenched around the toy inside her. She released a ragged breath, squeezing her legs together as the vibrator wiggling inside her hauled ass, stroking her in a circular fashion before hammering deep inside her channel.
“I can’t take it,” she admitted, her voice broken as she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Look at me,” Sebastian said, reaching inside his pajama pants. “You and I can do this together.”
“Come?” she asked, hopeful. “Will you?”
“No,” he replied, snickering. “And if you do, you’ll ride this train all the way back to Columbia without a good fuck. None of us want that outcome.”
She agreed there.
“How much longer?” she asked Wyatt. “Tell me how much more I have to take!”
Wyatt stalked her then. He framed her face and mashed his forehead to hers. “Do you know why you’re being punished?”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, I don’t.”
“I think she does,” Sebastian said, wiggling away from his pajama pants and stroking his cock in a mannerism that would make a virgin scream.
His hand was open. His large cock rested in his palm. The length stretched well beyond his fingers.
Her mouth watered as she observed him. He closed his hand and pumped, the stormy passion brewing behind his eyes as intense as the hard tug he gave himself.
“Watch him,” Wyatt said, lowering his head to her chest and flicking each nipple with a solid strike from his tongue.
“I can’t take much more,” she whispered, using the rope above her to swing forward.
Locking her legs around Wyatt’s waist, she thrust her pussy against his hard length and cried out when the vibrator slipped deeper inside her folds. Expecting anything but his rejection, she grinned when he seemed receptive, his fingers kneading the skin between the juncture of her thighs.
“Ah, my pretty slave,” he taunted her. “Did you forget what you wished for?”
“No,” she breathed, laying her heels on his back and struggling to bring him close once more.
“I think she did,” Sebastian said, stepping completely away from his pajamas then reclaiming his position on his side. His hand worked faster and faster then. He pumped his cock up and down. The speckle of excitement oozed around the crest, glistening under the track lighting.
Oh God, what was he doing? Why were they torturing her so?
“I need more than artificial loving,” she said, releasing a deep breath when Wyatt removed the vibrator and replaced the toy with his fingers.
“So wet,” he crooned, rubbing that same finger around the outside of her pussy, tracing her swollen folds, stroking them.
“Yes, I am,” she whispered. “Shouldn’t you reward me for that?”
Sebastian growled. “Um, I don’t think so.”
“Please don’t,” she whispered, watching as his arm muscle flexed. His hand quickened, tightening around his lengthening cock.
“You want to suck his dick, slave?” Wyatt asked.
“Yes.”
Wyatt slapped her mound with his bare hand. “If you’re serious about your position with us, you’ll show us respect.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s my sweet woman,” he said lovingly.
“Yes, Sir. I can be sweet, Sir.”
“Can you?” Sebastian asked, stopping his self-inflicted hand job.
Kimberly sucked in a deep breath of air. She was conflicted then. Part of her wanted to see him finish pleasuring himself. The other half was glad he paused, perhaps even stopped.
“Can I what, Sir?” she asked, hoping they’d untie her.
Sebastian’s lips twitched. “Can you suck my cock?”
“Oh yes.” She gulped. Maybe the punishment was over. Perhaps they’d untie her and let her show them how much she valued them, how much she treasured them.
“I don’t think she can,” Sebastian said, fondling himself. “No, I think she needs to watch.”
“Please, Sir,” she whispered. “I’ll make it wonderful for you. Let me show you how much I want to please you.”
“What do you think, Sebastian?” Wyatt pinched her nipple, his short nails digging into her flesh.
She yelped in pain as her body swayed to one side, human reflex forcing her to resist Wyatt’s touch.
“Are you backing away from me, slave?”
“No, Sir. I mean, yes, Sir. I was backing away.”
“Because it hurt?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“There. There’s a lesson to be learned. We will give you everything you need, but you have to be open and honest with us. You have to learn to tell us what you like, what you don’t.”
“Then I wouldn’t be your sex slave.”
Sebastian approached her then. Cupping her cheek, he reached above her head with his free hand and released the clamp holding her tied hands to the silver pole.
As her body relaxed, she fell against him. Holding her at arm’s length, he worked to free her wrists.
“Why are you hell-bent on becoming a Dom’s slave, Kimberly?” A level of concern existed in his tone and the question itself.
“I…don’t…I…mean…” Her voice hitched in her chest and she stuttered and stammered all over the place.
“You mean what, Kimberly?” Sebastian asked, frowning.
“I won’t feel completely loved unless you take care of me.”
“So there you have it,” Sebastian said quietly, glancing at Wyatt.
Kimberly had been excused to go to the bathroom. Sebastian stood at the picture window watching as a series of full trees and early spring blooms passed before his eyes.
“Do you understand that need?”
“I can second-guess it more than anything else.”
“Neely?”
Sebastian clucked. “I don’t know if we can blame Neely or her parents.”
“She had a wonderful childhood.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute, but Kimberly is the odd woman out. She isn’t anything like her sisters Trixie and Ansley.”
“I’ve been around them a lot more than you have,” Wyatt reminded him. “Ansley and Kimberly are more alike than you might imagine.”
Sebastian snorted at that. “Right. And you see Ansley Cartwell begging her fellows to make her their love slave.”
“Sex slave,” Wyatt corrected him. “Remember, she keeps differentiating between the two.”
“And why is that?” Sebastian asked. “Think about it. She feels unworthy of love.”
“I don’t know if it’s unworthy or incapable.”
Sebastian flinched. He hadn’t considered that possibility.
Kimberly returned, wearing a short burgundy silk robe opened down the front. When she reached the center of the room, she stopped, knelt to the floor, placed her hands behind her back, and bowed her head.
Her visible beaded nipples were easily detectable under the material and that alone made Sebastian as hard as copper. The way the material flowed over her breasts and the limited revealed flesh was enough to make him lose control.
Apparently wise to his growing weakness, Wyatt went to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her forward, her mouth even with his swollen prick, now pressing against the material he wore.
“Come here, Sebastian,” Wyatt said.
Practically reading Wyatt’s mind when he whipped out his cock and rubbed the texture over her lips, Sebastian lined up beside him. Sometimes he believed Wyatt had a dirtier mind than he did, and that wasn’t an easy feat.
“Suck both our cocks,” Wyatt told her, squeezing her shoulder as he brought her forward.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, kissing his cockhead before planting a delicate kiss on the tip of Sebastian’s.
“That’s sweet, my little slave, but it’s not what I meant.”
Sebastian noticed the way Kimberly responded whenever Wyatt called her his slave. She moistened her lips. Her eyes darkened with this incredible, indescribable desire and her nipples always told the tale of her heightened arousal.
“I don’t want to be sweet while I’m sucking your cocks,” she said, whispering across the head of each one.
Wyatt grinned. “Earlier you said you could be sweet.”
“And I can be,” she said. “Just not right now.”
“Why not?” Sebastian asked, releasing a hard grunt as her hand wrapped around his cock and she yanked him forward.
“Because I want to be bad, naughty, always so fucking naughty,” she rasped, rising to the balls of her feet and spreading her legs so they could see her glistening pussy.
“Holy hell,” Sebastian muttered, certain his eyes must’ve widened like they had springs in the sockets.