She looked away from his handsome, sexy face. “I need to stay focused. I don’t have time to be distracted. Don’t distract me.”
Marco dipped his head and kissed her briefly.
“Fine. I won’t distract you. But we are coming back to this topic later. I assumed since you learned all of this in a rather horrifying way that any sex games or kinks would always be disgusting to you.”
“No, not disgusting.”
Tasha sat forward and bent her head, shivering as Marco fastened the collar around her neck. When he was done, he kissed her again, his lips lingering on hers. Then Damon was at her back. He kissed the tops of her shoulders through the holes in the fishnet, raised her hands and kissed her palms before lacing their fingers together.
“We don’t have time for this.” She tried to be strong when she said it, but her words were breathy.
Marco pulled back. “Unfortunately, I know you’re right.”
“What’s the plan?” Damon released her. “Just so you know
, I won’t hit you again.”
“That’s what I was trying to avoid by doing the whipping myself at home. What we want is to get in there and make sure everyone sees us.”
“But we need to get out of there to get to the rendezvous spot.”
“And we will, but I want both of you to have alibis in case anything happens. My plan was for the two of you to show off how you punished me for disobeying last time. Then you’d invite a few select people from the audience to join us in a private room to see more punishment.”
“I hate everything about this plan.” Damon said.
Tasha touched his hand. “I knew you would. But this time you aren’t actually going to do anything. Or at least you weren’t going to have to before. Now if no one can see the marks, we might have a problem. There’s my face, but only a few people will find that alluring, while a nicely beaten ass will have more widespread appeal.”
“This is a weird conversation.” Damon ran his hands though his hair.
“What’s the point of getting some other people in a private room with us?” Marco asked.
“We’re going to drug them. We’ll be seen entering the room with them and seen leaving the room with them an hour later. During that time, we will have snuck out for the rendezvous.”
“Drug them?” Damon sighed. “This is so very, very illegal.”
“Like I said, there’s no law here.”
“I still don’t see why you have to be marked up for this plan to work,” Marco said.
“Most of these people in the club are probably normal, with nine-to-five jobs and the kind of lives that mean they can’t, even if they wanted to, get beat with the belts so hard that they’re bruised. Damon is being set apart as a man who can and will do things most of them only get to talk or think about.”
“So what now?”
Damon asked. “Am I going to spank you with the belt again?”
“That was play, and we both know it—sound and fury. That spanking was barely better than what their performers are doing.”
His lips thinned. “I’ll have to hit you again.”
“No, I won’t make you do that.” Tasha touched his knee. “I saw how much it upset you.”
“You’re going to get someone else to do it, aren’t you?” Marco asked.
“There are other things we could do to attract attention,” Tasha said. “But punishment is actually a bit easier and less revealing than one of you fucking me in the middle of the room or having to strip and pose.” Looking at their distressed expressions, Tasha mentally rearranged her plan. “Okay, I’ll think of something else. They had a few different devices that we could ask to use. That might be enough, if we play it as if you’re forcing me into it.” She didn’t like the idea of being in heavy bondage that would take time to get out of.
“No. This is my fault. I didn’t trust you and I should have.” Marco was looking at her, his blue eyes nearly black in the shadows. “Damon, give me your belt.” The air in the limo thickened. Tasha, who still knelt on the floor between them, looked from one man to another. In the dim, enclosed space they were large and powerful—threatening and enticing.
“Tasha,” Marco said. “I want to say that I’ll protect you. I want to say that you’ll never have to be hurt again. But I’m not going to say those things if all I’m doing is forcing you to trade one kind of pain for another.”
Tasha sighed in a combination of relief and sadness that she’d forced them to see the world the way she did. Where blood and bruises were actually easier than emotional vulnerability.
Damon’s jaw was clenched, but he took off the belt, pulling it through the loops and passing it to Marco. Tasha started to climb onto Marco’s lap but Damon stopped her and pulled her back against his chest.
“There’s no reason this has to be all pain,” he said. “Let’s pretend that you really are our submissive, and that a spanking might not just be punishment.”
Tasha held her breath as Damon tangled his fingers in her hair and turned her face to his. He captured her lips in his soft, deep kiss. He stroked her breasts. Her nipples were pebbled against the satiny material of the inside of the corset. Each breath was its own pleasure.
Marco slid to his knees in front of her. He found the edge of her panties and tugged them down little by little until they tangled around her ankles.
~~~~
Chapter Eleven
When he pulled her panties off and pressed her legs open, Tasha lifted her hips. She felt wanton—half-mad with desire. Though they were headed into danger, all she could think about was their hands on her needy body. Soon Marco would bend her over his lap and take the belt to her, hitting her hard enough to leave marks that would be visible in the dim lights of the club. Instead of making her feel afraid or resigned, the idea was driving her arousal higher, pushing her to the brink of a dark well of sexual need she’d never let herself fall into. For the first time in her life, she was engaging in sexual contact with people who cared about her. It was freeing.
They were not assets to be cultivated, they were not foreign intelligence agents to be seduced or drugged. They were not teachers or students entering her life to further her training or allow her to pass on what she knew. They were her husbands, they were her partners, and they were about to be her lovers.
Marco kneaded the insides of her thighs, his thumbs grazing her pussy. “Have you ever had a man’s lips here?” he asked.
“Yes. I wasn’t a saint.” She gasped as he stroked her.
Marco chuckled while Damon kissed the spot under her ear just above the collar. Marco pressed two fingers between her outer labia, stroking up and down, with each pass brushing her clit. Tasha’s breath was coming fast. It seemed crazy that she was so aroused so quickly, and yet she knew it wouldn’t take much to push her over the edge. Maybe it was because she’d wanted them since she met them, or maybe it was because she knew that with these men, for the first time in her life, sex would come without strings attached.
Damon captured her lips in another kiss as Marco dipped his head to her pussy. Tasha screamed, her whole body tensing, her hips lifting, as Marco’s tongue pressed into her, finding and stroking her clit. He dipped his fingers lower, sliding one into her, giving her the little bit of penetration that she’d only ever felt with fingers and toys. She wanted it to be his cock.
Wanted to feel him thrusting into her as Damon kissed her. Wanted to feel Damon behind her, his cock sliding into her ass as Marco took her from the front.
She’d told them she was afraid of being in the middle sexually, and that was true. She was afraid. But she was also painfully, epically aroused by the idea. This was only a taste, a preview of what it would be like when they weren’t rushed and in the back of a car. And even this had her teetering on the brink of an orgasm so powerful she feared she would never recover from it.
Marco added a second finger, stretching her open. He worked her clit with his tongue, first circling the outside with just enough stimulation to keep her on the edge but not enough to push her over. Then he would nip her lightly, a little dart of pain amid all the pleasure. But it was what she wanted, what she needed. The best part was the long, slow strokes of his tongue. Every nerve ending was stimulated, every bit of her felt his touch.
She was biting and sucking on Damon’s tongue. She unashamedly dug fingers into Marco’s hair, forcing his face tighter against her sex. She grabbed Damon’s hand and squeezed it against her breasts, trying to force his fingers under the top of her corset. He understood her need and tugged it down enough to expose her nipples, then plucked the tight buds through the holes in the fishnet. When she broke from the kiss and pressed her face into his neck, begging them both for more, whimpering in her need, Damon began to pinch, twist and roll her nipples while Marco focused on licking her up and down in a steady, incessant rhythm.
Tasha moaned and thrashed, ready to feel the pleasure that crawled inside her break, splintering apart into a million little shards of happy bright light. But just when she was there, Marco pulled back.
“No,” she growled, grabbing for him. Before she realized what was happening Marco had taken a seat and Damon was lifting her, settling her face down over Marco’s lap. She’d forgotten what had started this, forgotten what she’d asked them to do. Her ass was naked and exposed, completely at Marco’s mercy.
Damon knelt, brushing her hair gently back from her face. “Tell us what you need.”
“I’ve never done this before,” Marco said.
“Four or five hits should be enough,” she said, cheek against the seat. “They need to be hard enough that they’ll still be red when we get there and hopefully darken up over the next hour.”
Damon leaned in and kissed her. He nipped her lower lip and sucked it into his mouth,
laving it with his tongue. The denied orgasm was still there, rolling and bubbling in her belly. Tasha wanted to come, needed to orgasm more than she could ever remember.
Damon kept kissing her and slid his hand between her body and the seat to find her nipple, to pinch and twist it. That sent little darts of pleasure down into her pussy.
Crack.
Tasha jerked in surprise when the first blow landed against her butt. It hurt where it overlapped with her earlier attempts, but she knew it wasn’t hard enough to leave a mark.
“Harder,” she begged when Damon broke the kiss. “It has to be harder.”
Crack. This one landed at the upper part of her thighs, the blow sending fissures of pain up and down her back. She jerked her mouth away from Damon so she wouldn’t bite him as she clenched her teeth.
“I hurt you.” Marco’s voice was rough, his distress evident.
“Yes, yes,” she whispered. “Do it again.”
In her heightened state of arousal, the pain was more than just pain—it was sensation, it was feeling. When the third blow fell, it jiggled her ass. For a moment she thought that would be it, that would be what made her come.
“Hold on a second.” Damon slid one of her legs off the seat and slipped his fingers into her pussy, sliding from the entrance of her body to her clit, stroking and rubbing her. The touch pushed her back toward that brink of orgasm, but before she could go over, Damon withdrew his hand and forced her leg back up onto the seat.
Crack.
This time Tasha screamed. It was as much in frustration as in pain.
“Do you want to come?” Damon squeezed her nipple.
“Yes, yes, please.” Tasha didn’t care she was begging, didn’t care that it was artless begging, or that everything she was doing was unplanned. In this moment, she didn’t care about them, didn’t care if when they looked at her they saw the ultimate object of their desires, which had always been her goal before. She was, for the first time, totally and completely selfish. It was glorious.
Crack. The blow landed at the ultra-soft skin where the top of her thighs met her ass. Tasha screamed and kicked, her legs sliding off the seat. Damon caught her, pulled her down and turned her so she lay flat on the floor of the limo.
He grabbed her cuffs and forced her hands above her head as his teeth closed over her nipple, holding it tight as he sucked. Marco tossed the belt aside and came down on his knees before her, forcing her legs open. Cupping her hips in his hands, he lifted her to his mouth and focused his lips and tongue on her clit.
The burning pain from her beaten ass and the little sharp darts of pain at her nipples were a stark contrast to the deep, rolling pleasure of Marco’s tongue on her clit. She wanted more. She wanted this to go on forever, and yet she wanted them to give her what she craved, what she desired, right now.
She realized she would never have enough of them. There would never be enough touches, enough kisses. Enough pain, enough pleasure.
Marco shifted, and with his tongue still on her clit, he thrust two fingers into her pussy. That was it. Tasha pressed her head back and screamed in pleasure as she came, her body tense and taut as a metal wire. It seemed to go on forever—great rolling swoops of pleasure cascading through her. Her toes curled, hands fisted. She was gasping their names, begging them to never stop.
And they didn’t stop. Hands, lips and teeth all continued to caress her, prolonging the orgasm to the point of sensory and nerve overload. Finally, her body shuddered to a stop, and she tugged free of Marco’s restraining hold and pushed their heads away. Lying on the floor half-naked and sprawled open before them, Tasha couldn’t think of anything to say. As if they realized that, Marco and Damon both helped her onto the seat and cradled her against their bodies the way they had on the couch in her home earlier that day.