Maya Banks - Sweet Addiction

There was an odd note to his voice. Almost caressing. She basked in the warmth in his tone, unconsciously leaning forward as he spoke.

“Tonight you’ll decide how we start. Tell me what your fondest wish is and I’ll grant it.”

“Me bound. Utterly submissive. To you. My dearest wish is that tonight you have me in any manner you desire,” she whispered.

His smile was tender as he rose. “Do you know how I see you, Ren?”

She shook her head.

“I imagine you on a pedestal, displayed to your best advantage. Beautiful inside and out.”

He went to the window and pushed out the square leather ottoman. It was huge, an accompaniment to the leather sectional in the library, but Lucas had always kept the ottoman in here because he liked to position her on it.

It elevated her to a perfect height for her to kneel and be on level with his cock to either suck or for him to fuck her from behind. And it was plush and comfortable on her knees. She could remain on it for hours and never complain.

Tonight he pushed it to the center of the living room, a distance from the fire so she wouldn’t become too warm but would still enjoy the warmth in the otherwise cool room.

Then he left the living room for a moment and returned with two metal posts attached to heavy bases. He positioned them on either side of the ottoman and then left to get two more. When he was done, there were posts about two feet out on all four corners of the ottoman.

Without a word, he picked up Ren, curling her into his arms and carried her to the leather cushion. He turned her on her knees and stroked a hand over the curve of her back and then to her buttocks.

“Stay here. On your hands and knees. I’ll be back in a moment.”

She put her palms down, enjoying the sumptuous feel of the buttery-soft leather. Then she spread her knees at a comfortable distance and positioned herself according to Lucas’s instructions.

A moment later he was back and he came in behind her. First there was the warm clasp of his hand around her ankle and then next she felt the slight abrasion of rope. She closed her eyes and sucked in her breath as he wrapped the length around one ankle.

It was then she realized the purpose of the posts. He secured the rope binding her ankle to the post, pulling it tight in the process. Then he repeated the process with her other ankle until her legs were spread wide and her feet were splayed outward, opening her completely from behind.

“Lower your head,” he ordered quietly.

She dipped her head down.

“Lower. Rest your cheek against the ottoman.”

She complied, tilting her body down so that her ass was higher than her head and she pressed her cheek to the soft leather.

He pulled one arm out beside her so that it dangled over the edge of the ottoman and then he wrapped rope around her wrist. Then he pulled outward until her arm was stretched and he tied the rope to the corresponding post.

When he finished with the other hand, she was effectively trussed hand and foot, secured to the ottoman and vulnerable to whatever he chose to do to her.

“I’ve left you just enough slack that you can raise your head when necessary,” Lucas said. “For now you can rest your cheek as you are. When I tell you to move, you’ll lift your head so that your mouth is as accessible as your ass and pussy.”

She nodded her understanding.

He hesitated a brief moment, his hand resting on her head. “Before we begin, there is something we need to have an understanding about.”

She frowned, though her expression was hidden by the veil of hair obscuring her face.

“We haven’t discussed a safe word since the beginning of our relationship. You’ve never used it. I need to be sure you remember it so that if anything occurs tonight that is not to your liking, anything at all, you will simply say the word and it will all stop.”

She was confused and a little worried at his tone but she nodded. She trusted him to stop. Absolutely.

“Say the word. This once so I know you remember it.”

“Butterfly,” she whispered.

“Good girl. Now choose your instrument. I have a desire to mark your pretty ass tonight.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “A belt.”

His hand went still on her shoulder. “A belt? Interesting choice. Not one we’ve used before.”

She should have said a crop. She should have just gone with the familiar and not put Cole anywhere into this scenario, but she couldn’t take the words back now.

“You can use mine.”

Her head whipped up, putting a painful strain on her arms as she twisted her head in the direction of that voice. She blew at her hair to move it from her eyes and ground her teeth in frustration when it wouldn’t budge.

Then Lucas gently pushed the hair from her face, collected it in his hands and pulled it around to her back so her vision was no longer obscured.

Standing across the room just inside the doorway was Cole.

Ren couldn’t breathe. She was so in shock that she couldn’t even process the simplest thought. What was he doing here? And why was Lucas standing there, holding her hair, so calm and measured that it could be anyone at all in his living room.

Her chest hurt. Her eyes stung. Her pulse was thudding hard in her ears and all she could hear was a dull roar.

“Remember your safe word, Ren,” Lucas murmured.

And finally it all made sense. Somehow, someway, they were here together and the reminder of her safe word was Lucas’s way of ensuring she was okay, not just with sex, pain and having her boundaries pushed, but with everything. Him, Cole and whatever the two of them had planned.

Cole stared at her with his piercing blue eyes and then he slowly walked forward, closing the distance between them. He came to stand directly in front of her and Lucas tightened his grip around her hair, forcing her chin up even farther.

Then he leaned down and kissed her. Hard. So savage that her oxygen-starved lungs screamed for mercy. Then he pulled away and took one step back.

Lucas’s hand relaxed and he settled in against her back, rubbing lightly. Then to Cole. “Your belt?”

Cole unfastened the leather belt, pulled it from his pants and handed it over to Lucas. Her neck ached from holding herself in such an awkward position but she couldn’t look away, no matter the strain on her bound wrists.

She had so many things to ask. So many questions burning her lips. But neither man had given her permission to do so. Which brought up yet another issue. Who was she to submit to? She closed her eyes and lowered her head, confused and aching.

“Look at me, Ren. You’ll look at me while he uses the belt on your ass.”

She jerked her head back up, her eyes flying open.

“Better yet,” Cole murmured as his hands went to the fly of his pants. He unzipped himself and let the pants gape open as he pulled out his cock. He stroked once and then twice and moved forward until the tip of his erection was a mere centimeter from her bottom lip.

“Open,” he directed.

She opened her mouth but he made no move to enter. Not until …

The first lash of the belt cracked across her skin, shocking her. She’d momentarily forgotten. Her concentration and focus had been on Cole.

As soon as she cried out, Cole slid deep into her mouth, pushing to the back of her throat.

“Beautiful,” Lucas said in approval. “That’s my girl. Suck his cock while I play with your ass. Please him or you’ll be punished.”

But she was already being punished. Having Cole here, commanding her like he had the right had her heart in tatters. What could she have possibly done to have deserved such a cruel, heartless thing?

Cole gathered her hair in his hands, wrapped the strands around his fingers and pulled her forward to meet his thrust. Lucas popped the belt across her buttocks again and it was like laying down a strip of fire.

She gasped and was rewarded with another mouthful of thick cock.

“Relax, Ren,” Cole said. It wasn’t an order as much as an encouragement. His voice was tender, and just the fact that he was here, in front of her, speaking so sweetly, to her brought tears to her eyes.

“Let us bring you ultimate pleasure tonight,” he continued. “Let us show you how it can be.”

How could he be so cruel?

Anger. Grief. Love. The three conflicting emotions swelled in her chest until breathing was impossible. What game was he playing? Was this some sick taunt? A final farewell and, oh by the way, this is how it could have been between us?

Tears crowded, stinging her eyes. Her nose drew up. She couldn’t force air into her lungs.

Lucas brought the belt down over her ass, but it was no longer pleasurable. Each blow was painful. Sharp. The euphoric haze that normally surrounded her when Lucas laid leather to her flesh had evaporated, leaving her cold.

She strained against the bonds, panicking for a moment because she was utterly restrained. No give. She was helpless with no way to stop what was happening to her.

Cole shoved into her mouth. There was no longer any beauty to the act. For the first time, she felt used. Degraded. Mocked.

How could he do this to her? How could he be here when he’d walked away from her a second time? Worse, how could Lucas allow it? Did he want her to have closure? Because she was sick to death of decisions being made for her.

She struggled against the bonds but Lucas and Cole both followed her movements. The pain of the belt stopped and she went weak with relief for a moment. Lucas had recognized that she didn’t want this.

But then he slid into her, hard. Deep. His hips slapped against her sore ass as Cole continued to use her mouth. They had no mercy. Had no idea that she was dying on the inside.

Butterfly.

The word floated through her mind and she seized upon it, realizing it was the only way to make this stop and to make them go away.

She struggled fiercely again. This time Lucas paused, his hand sliding over her hip as if he was concerned. The moment Cole withdrew she yanked her mouth away and tried to say the word but it caught in her throat that was swollen with grief and unshed tears.

When Cole cupped her jaw to guide her back to him, she shook her head in silent rejection and then finally, her voice came to her.

“Butterfly,” she croaked out.

Lucas went completely still. He pulled out of her instantly and when Cole would have taken her mouth again, Lucas bit out, “Stop! It’s her safe word.”

Cole released her immediately and backed away. She didn’t look up. Couldn’t bear to look up. Behind her Lucas fumbled with the rope around her legs.

“Get her untied,” Lucas ground out. “Quickly.”

With both men working to untie her, she was free in just a few moments. She sagged onto the ottoman, refusing to meet either of their stares.

“Ren.” Lucas’s voice came to her, low and urgent. “Ren, what’s wrong. Did I hurt you? Are you all right? Tell me what’s wrong.”

He tried to touch her. He would have picked her up, but she warded him off, slapping at his hands, pushing him away.

She pulled herself into a sitting position and dragged her knees to her chest in a protective measure. She hugged them to her body, buried her face between her knees and rocked back and forth, silent tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Please just leave me alone,” she said in a hoarse, ugly voice.

A hand dropped tentatively to her shoulder. Cole.

And then on her other side, Lucas. He threaded his fingers through her hair and pressed in close until the heat from his body bled into her.

“Ren, look at me,” Lucas pleaded in a soft voice. “I can’t leave you alone. Not until I know what’s happened. Have I hurt you?”

She raised her tear-ravaged face then and the two men swam in her vision. She could see the stark worry reflected in their eyes. They looked …tormented. Unsure.

“I just need this to be over. I can’t do this anymore. How could you do this? Either of you? Haven’t you done enough? Did you really think this would help me? Or make me feel not so abandoned?”

Lucas, who was never at loss for words, stared at her as if he had no idea what to say or that he even understood what she’d burst out with. Maybe it didn’t even make sense to her. She just knew she was bleeding to death and there wasn’t a bandage in the world that would stop the flow.