Siren Unleashed

Chapter Eleven

Three days later, Chase opened the door, impatience in his every move. Three long days of taking it slowly was making him utterly insane.

Damn it. What was that woman doing to him? He was never impatient. Bored. He was bored almost all the time, but never impatient. Now he was anxious and definitely not bored.

He’d spent his days behind a two-way glass watching as Chris Linwood and Callum Reed interviewed employees. He would have preferred doing it himself, but he had a cover to try to maintain, so he’d given the job over. He’d checked the IDs on every car that had been allowed in the gates of the resort. He’d run checks on everyone who’d had an appointment at the spa for the last two weeks.

Nothing. Just a hysterical Gretchen, who couldn’t seem to get through a simple interview, and two other therapists who had perfectly good alibis.

And that fucker Tate, who was starting to annoy him. Tate had answered every question with a question of his own, all of them about Natalie.

The only fun he’d had was watching Cal scare the holy hell out of Juliet Kirkman. And even that had ended in misery when he’d discovered she’d been at the funeral home and surrounded by relatives the night that Natalie’s apartment had been ransacked. She was a bitch, but she hadn’t broken in.

And then there was Natalie.

For three days, he’d been a gentleman. He’d followed Ben’s lead and gotten Nat comfortable with them. He’d talked about his expectations of a sub. Ben had asked her about her former D/s play that hadn’t involved hardened criminals. Even her therapist had come down and had a long talk with Nat while Ben and Chase spent their days at the resort getting their cover down. As far anyone knew, they were businessmen looking to make some investments and have a little fun in the dungeon.

Jack Barnes had been busy, too, allowing Natalie to watch him and his submissives while he studied her reactions. Jack wasn’t sure about taking her in, and Chase was worried, too.

And he was so horny he just might die. Three days of getting Natalie used to his touch while keeping his dick out of her was making him crazy, but today they were moving into the playroom. Today, they were going to play.

Logan frowned as he walked in, carrying the bag Chase had requested he retrieve from Dallas. Logan had been fine having Kitten along for the drive, but he’d promised revenge for forcing him to spend time in a small enclosed space with Georgia. Chase rather thought the dude protested way too much. And he’d also kind of hoped that Georgia would stay behind in Dallas, but no, she sulked into the ranch house following Kitten. Kitten smiled brightly.

“Chase, if you don’t tell that backwoods idiot that he isn’t the boss of me, then I’m going to scream. He’s horrible. He’s constantly in my business.” Georgia rounded on the deputy, barely coming to the middle of his chest, but that didn’t slow her down. “You’re an asshole. Capital A. Little s. Another little s.”

Logan growled a little, causing Georgia to back up. She nearly tripped on her ridiculously high heels. “I’m getting a little tired of the bratty attitude, little girl. I think you might need a time-out. You won’t like it. I promise you.”

Fucking hell, the sexual tension between those two was heavy. Logan wanted his bratastic sister? Chase stared for a moment, trying to come up with what he felt. Nausea. That was what he felt because he was fucking thinking about his feelings. Nat had done this to him.

“Chase, kill him now.” Georgia had backed up but her heels dug into Jack Barnes’s beautiful hardwood floor, and she seemed unwilling to give the deputy another inch.

The deputy. Who had a job. And was coming out of his fucked-up period. Everyone had a fucked-up period. It was just a matter of time before life really messed up a person’s head. Logan had already faced it. Logan had been smart enough to reach out for help. Logan was almost on the other side.

He could totally pawn Georgia off on Logan. Damn straight. It was the perfect freaking plan. Logan wanted to fuck his sister? Well, Logan was the type who took his responsibilities seriously. Fucking a friend’s sister would be serious to Logan. Chase stared at Georgia with a critical eye. She was actually quite pretty. She had some nice curves on her.

“You make a lovely couple.”

Logan’s eyes went wide, and he shoved the bag at him. “Dude, don’t you even start that shit.”

“I said the same thing.” Kitten grinned up at him. “Sir is a good matchmaker.”

Kitten was quite liberal with the praise.

Logan glared down at Georgia. “If you pull one stunt here, I swear, I’ll have that ass over my knee. I don’t care what your brothers do. They left you in my care. You’re going to follow my rules, and if you ever lock me in a room again, your ass is going to be red.”

Georgia growled right back. It was kind of cute. “I locked you in the bathroom because you were an unreasonable prick. And what is your fascination with my backside? It’s a perfectly fine color. If you lay a hand on it, I will call the police.”

The police would probably forgive Logan after spending more than two minutes with Georgia. Chase had never seen a man willing to deal with Hurricane Georgia. Yeah. He was a good matchmaker. Especially since pawning Georgia off on Logan meant he could know she was safe.

A vision of a little girl with a sweet smile and cotton candy hair clouded his vision. He would fucking kill anyone who touched her.

Damn Nat. He needed to fuck her and then all this mushy shit would go away. Yeah. Once he’d been inside her, he would see she was just like other girls.

He was smart enough to call bullshit on himself. Nat was unlike anyone he’d ever met, and he was getting really fucking worried that she might be the one and she couldn’t stand the thought of taking a collar. He was far from stupid. She was deeply disturbed at the thought of a true D/s relationship, and he wouldn’t be able to accept less.

Ben could. Ben could make her happy. Ben could modify his needs.

Chase sometimes hated Ben.

Logan’s lips quirked up in what Chase liked to think of as an alpha smirk. He rather thought Logan wouldn’t have ever found his alpha male if the aforementioned trauma hadn’t happened. He likely would have remained a happy-go-lucky guy who would have eventually fallen for some pretty pussy and been content to be led around by his dick for the rest of his life. Now Logan had to deal with his hard self, the same self Chase had never had a choice but to acknowledge.

He’d been born a prick.

“Do you have my bag?” Impatient. He couldn’t even wait to see if he could throw his sister at an approved suitor. All he could think about was the fact that his little piece of sugar was waiting on him. Was waiting on his ropes and his flogger.

He wanted to shop for her. Suddenly his kit, painstakingly put together over a decade, didn’t seem worthy. He hadn’t been thinking of her. He’d been buying the best, but Nat needed what would work for her. He didn’t know if she liked deerskin falls on her floggers or cowhide. He didn’t know what kind of paddle made her sub faster. Did she like the sting of a flogger or a thud? Did her little nipples respond to alligator clamps or clover clamps?

It bugged the shit out of him that he didn’t know. It fucked with his head that someone out there might know what Nat needed.

Logan sighed a long breath and handed over a small, inauspicious leather bag. It held the whole of Chase’s kink collection. Deerskin flogger, cowhide flogger, four-foot whip, candles for wax play, knives, silk rope, jute rope, nipple clamps, paddles, canes, crops, nothing that meant a goddamn thing because they hadn’t been selected with her in mind, and it was all he had and he felt so fucking inadequate.

“Thanks.” What the fuck else could he say? He grabbed the bag. He didn’t have time to deal with his sister’s damage. Georgia was a pain in his ass. He loved her, but she created her own drama and she kind of loved it, so she was never really willing to let it go. “You guys are staying here tonight. Dinner is in two hours. Your room is on the second floor. Kitten, you and Georgia have to share. Second door on the left.”

Kitten pouted. “Can’t I stay with Master Logan? Kitten likes to cuddle.” Her face fell. “Sorry. I like to cuddle. It’s so hard to remember.”

It was hard for Kitten to remember to refer to herself in the first person rather than the third because she’d been deeply abused by a horrible man. Some submissives needed it. They loved to be simply a servant to their Dom, fulfilling their deep love for service. There was nothing wrong with it when it was a choice. Kitten hadn’t had a choice. She’d been a twenty-one-year-old girl when she’d been kidnapped and tortured into thinking she wasn’t a human being but a possession.

Nat rode a fine line. She needed the submission. It was a part of her soul, but she’d been brutalized into thinking it was bad. Was he the Dom to bring her back from the edge? Or would she just need Ben?

Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, you’re too sweet to just cuddle with. Don’t tempt a man.”

Kitten flushed, her body straightening with a pride she hadn’t had before. Yeah, Logan was becoming a good Dom. He was on his way to being a great one. “Thank you, Sir. But you’re right. Kitten—I need to wait for my Dom. I believe you have another sub to handle.”

“I’m going to find my room.” Georgia turned on her heels. “You better not follow me or I’ll lock you up somewhere again.”

“You better think about that, brat.” Logan followed Georgia up the stairs, carrying three bags on his broad shoulders.

Kitten looked up at him. “Do you think this is a good idea? Taking Nat into a situation like this?”

He sighed. It had been plaguing him for days. “I’m going to watch out for her.”

“I know. I worry that she’s not ready.”

So was he. “Well, we haven’t exactly figured out how to get invited to this club. We’ve spent time in every seedy bar on the highway and nothing yet. So we might not have to worry about it.”

There was a part of him that didn’t give a shit about finding who killed Stan Kirkman. The missing girls were another story.

Kitten turned to Chase, her face softening. “You could be very good for Nat.”

Chase rather preferred the cowering Kitten in that moment. “I don’t know about that.”

“She grew up in the lifestyle.” Kitten leaned back against the wall, her whole body relaxing. Chase had been her caregiver for months and months after she’d been rescued, but she’d never relaxed until now. For the first time in their long relationship, she was talking to him like a friend. “I didn’t. Finn and I grew up here. We were raised in a very small, conservative town. When I was taken, it was a rather surprising experience.”

“You were kidnapped.” Chase needed her to acknowledge the brutality of the crime against her. She always tried to soften it. “Not taken. Nat was kidnapped.”

Kitten nodded. “Yes. We were assaulted. Hawk was quite vicious. He had many slaves before me. I’ve often wondered what he did with them, but the evidence that they existed was there. Sometimes he would mess up and call me by another name. Then he would hurt me for his mistake. I’ve thought a lot about it lately. I think he was going to do something with Gretchen and perhaps Natalie. He said Gretchen was too old. Gretchen told me once she remembered two other slaves. Nat and I found pictures of them. I think he killed them. No one found them.”

Chase hugged Kitten. Logan had disappeared and that meant it was his job to console her. He remembered a time when he’d been vaguely attracted to Kitten. She was nice looking and so submissive it hurt. He’d thought briefly about how she would be an easy sub. She would do what he said and never challenge him. He hugged her close, but more because he knew she was Natalie’s friend. He’d been utterly changed in the freaking course of a couple of days. “It’s all right, Kitten.”

“We remember their faces.”

Chase looked up, completely startled. Nat stood in the hallway, her face pale, contrasting to the lovely shade of her hair. Chase took a step back. He knew it was stupid. He was only trying to console a friend, but couldn’t stand the thought of Nat feeling bad.

Nat frowned at him, crossing the space and taking Kitten into her arms. Her right hand came out, silently requesting he complete the circle around Kitten’s body. Kitten sagged against Nat.

“He was going to sell you. I overheard him talking. He’d found a Dom who was willing to pay a lot of money for you.” Kitten’s voice shook. “It’s why I stole the knife. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Chase let his hands go around Kitten, wrapping around her until they found Nat’s waist. His eyes met hers over their mutual friend’s body. He held them for a moment, the revelation that she could have been killed settling in. Her unique essence would have been snuffed out forever. He wouldn’t have known her. He wouldn’t have ever kissed her or spanked her or had a chance at a future with her.

She gave him a tremulous smile. That was his Nat. She’d been told something terrible, and she tried to fucking make him feel better. His hand found her hair.

He was never going to let her go. He was never going to allow a single other human being on the face on the planet to hurt her. Not for a second.

“It’s all right, Kitten. I’m fine. No one can hurt me now.” Nat’s eyes held his.

He made his silent vow. He would find a way to keep her. He would be a better man.

Nat followed Chase up the stairs. The playroom. Up until now she hadn’t been in this room because Ben and Chase had insisted on taking things slowly. The demonstrations she’d witnessed had taken place in Jack Barnes’s bedroom, a huge, gorgeous monstrosity with places for all three of them. They had made it work, Jack and Abby and Sam. They were happy. And Sam and Abby had happily had their asses spanked. Watching them get tied up had been hard though.

And now she was going to the playroom because it was time to move on.

She’d known it existed, but she’d carefully avoided it every time she’d been here. Jack Barnes had offered to show it to her a long time ago. Nat wasn’t dumb. She’d known what Jack was trying to do. He’d been like Cal and all the other Doms, attempting to gently herd her back into the lifestyle because they thought she needed it.

She thought about her visit with Janine. Her therapist wasn’t particularly happy about the whole “going undercover” thing, but she’d told Nat that she was thrilled with her stubbornness and courage. Two days of talking about trust and the need to move on and Nat was giving it a try.

Her heart was thumping in her chest, getting faster with every stair she climbed. What the hell was she doing? She couldn’t go undercover. It was stupid. Someone hated her and she was going to catch a killer? She had a degree in art. She was a massage therapist. What the hell did she know about investigating anything? She could barely do a Google search.

But she knew D/s. And this person was obviously connected to an underground club.

“Are you all right?” Chase turned at the top of the stairs, his hand on that bag Logan and the girls had come here to bring him. His D/s bag. Full of toys he wanted to use on her. How would she handle that? He probably had rope. He would want to tie her up. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t. Her feet moved of their own volition, finding the step beneath her, taking her further away.

“Natalie.” Chase sounded a little weary, emotion heavy in his voice. He sounded like Ben. If she hadn’t known damn well who was with her, she would have sworn it was Ben. But it was Chase who sounded so deeply sad. Even those normally narrowed eyes were round, the pain evident. “Go find your room, sweetness. I’ll talk to Ben. We’ll work this out. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. Ben and I will make this thing go away.”

And then they would head back to Dallas because they needed a submissive. She’d been thinking about it for days. If Hawk hadn’t been a righteous prick criminal massive douchebag, she would still be bottoming happily. She would have waited. She was picky, never taking a collar because it wasn’t right.

Chase was right. Ben was right. She was the one who was wrong but only because some arrogant asshole had fucked up her life, and if she never ever took it back, then he got to win.

Tears blurred her eyes. Chase’s whole body sagged. She would bet her life that he’d never let a sub manipulate him, but he softened every time he was around her. “Cotton Candy, you’re killing me. Just go back to your room. You don’t have to do a thing. We won’t touch you.”

He meant they wouldn’t spank her or tie her up or make her come. And they wouldn’t really touch her at all because both he and Ben needed a D/s connection. It was who they were. It was who she’d been so long ago. It was who she’d been born. Deep inside she’d been submissive sexually, needing what came from giving up power when it came to sex. Before she’d been abused, she’d been able to accept herself without a single condition. She’d simply been Natalie.

Who the hell was she now? Was she a woman who allowed two beautiful men to walk away because she wasn’t brave enough to try?

She sniffled. She hated the fact that she was so close to tears. “I’m scared, Sir.”

Nat used the polite name because she wanted him to understand she was invested in this endeavor.

He closed the distance between them, his hand touching her hair. “I don’t want you to be scared of me. I can’t fucking stand the thought. I would rather walk away and just let Ben have you than you be scared of me.”

“It isn’t you. It’s the whole thing. I want this part of me back, but I’m terrified that it won’t work. I think I’m broken, Chase.”

He took a long breath as he stared down at her. “I was born broken, sweetness. I was born not whole. I think you might fix me.” His breath hitched just a little, and she could see what this cost him. “Could you please try? For me? For Ben?”

She could have turned him away if he’d ordered her. She could have walked if he’d simply stopped and stared. But asking her? She couldn’t move. He’d asked with emotion in his voice and this was Chase, not Ben. Chase, who never had an emotion, felt for her. Chase, who likely never asked, had been sweet and polite. Chase could change, just a bit. Couldn’t she?

She wanted to. Couldn’t she try? For Chase and Ben? For herself?

“Please be patient with me, Sir.” She let her arms wind around his lean waist. God, she loved how it felt to hug him. Her whole body seemed to hum with the connection. She let her head find his chest. He was wearing a shirt but his heat came through the cotton. She leaned into him, for the first time in forever finding real comfort in another human being. She let a happy sigh take her, listening in to the heavy beat of his heart. She was close to him, so close. This was what she’d really missed.

“I can be so patient, Cotton Candy. You have no idea. I can wait for something I really want.” His chin rubbed against her hair. “Sex is going to be hard, though.”

She turned her face up to him. His deep blue eyes stared down. How could she have ever thought he was cold? “Sex? Why would that be hard?”

He sighed. “Sweetness, I want you so fucking bad. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. I might get cranky, but I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.”

He thought she was asking him to wait for sex? “Chase, I was talking about the D/s stuff. Can you not have sex unless I kiss your feet? Shouldn’t we try a little sex since it will probably be on the table at this club thing?”

He growled a little, pulling her up, and suddenly her back was against the wall. Oh, there was that hot alpha male. She was deeply aware that with most men she would be screaming by now, but with Sir Dawson, she simply grinned, wrapping her legs around him.

God, how could she trust him so fast?

“I can fuck you anytime, sweetness,” he said, proving just how ready he was by rubbing his cock against her. “I want you to take me. I want you to take me so fucking bad.”

His hips moved, rocking against her. There was no damn question that the man wanted her. He and his brother were doing all sorts of things for her self-esteem. Was that what they would do for a sub? For their sub? She wrapped her arms around him, her legs forming a circle that held them together. “I want you, babe. But I want Ben, too. Be sure.”

It felt so damn right to call him babe.

His lips curved up. “I can handle it. I was being an asshole before. That’s something you’re going to have to be patient with. Asshole is my default state. I love your breasts. They’re perky. I think about them a lot.”

She snorted a little. She couldn’t help it. He kept her on her toes. He didn’t seem to have a filter, and she kind of loved him for it. He wouldn’t lie to her. It wouldn’t even occur to him to do it. “Uhm, I’m flattered.”

“If you’re done thinking about Nat’s boobs, we should probably get started on her training.” Ben stood at the door of the playroom, his voice a little forbidding, but a sweet smile played on his lips like he’d enjoyed the conversation he’d overheard.

Chase sighed. “He can be an asshole, too. Are you ready for this, sweetness? Because we can just get the fuck out of this town.”

He held her in place as though trying to let her feel his will. “I’m not supposed to leave the county.”

“I can have a new identity for you in thirty minutes. We can be on a plane an hour after that. Where would you like to go? Beach or mountains?”

He meant it. He would drop his whole fucking life and just walk out with her. She glanced up at Ben, whose face was a polite blank. He would want roots. He needed them. It was his function in life to ground those around him. If they went on the run, Ben might come with them, but he would never be happy. There was a core to Ben that needed the everyday life. It would be his gift to them.

She took a long breath, gathering her courage. “No. I want to catch this guy. I want to see if I can get this piece of me back.”

Chase set her on her feet. He put his forehead to hers. “Then get up there and get into position.”

She hustled up the stairs, feeling better than she had a couple of minutes before. She’d been scared, but two minutes of the Dawson brothers and she really wanted to try. It brought back her mom’s words of wisdom when she’d asked how to find a Dom.

When you find one who makes you want to bend, want to please him because he moves you, then you know to try.

Damn, but she wanted to try. She walked up the stairs, a little less afraid than she’d been before. And a little more excited. She wanted the sex. If she didn’t have to submit, she definitely wanted to try having sex with Chase. And Ben. And Ben and Chase.

God, she wanted a ménage. Her parents would be perfectly horrified. She was almost thirty years old and she’d finally found a way to rebel.

“Hello, honey.” Ben barred the door, his gorgeous chest on display. He wore a pair of jeans but had brilliantly eschewed his shirt. Neither of the Dawson brothers needed to ever wear a shirt.

“Hi.” It was stupid, but she couldn’t stop her grin.

Chase crowded her from behind. She was surrounded by Dawson hotness. It was really hard to think about her previous damage when enveloped by gorgeous masculinity.

Kind masculinity. Maybe that was the key. Nothing these two men had done to anyone had been less than kind. Well, except for Tate. They’d been pissy with Tate, but maybe he’d deserved it. Tate had definitely seen her with Chase in the dungeon. He should have asked before he’d tried to touch her. He’d been a Dom long enough to know better.

“Are you sure?” Ben asked.

Damn brothers weren’t going to make this easy. “I don’t need to talk about it anymore. I’m fine.”

She wasn’t, but she had to try.

Ben leaned over, kissing her forehead briefly, and then stepped back, allowing her inside. “The talking thing was important. Communication is the key to this. No clothes, Natalie. If these people are even slightly hard-core, you won’t be allowed clothes. Not in the dungeon. Take them off and find your position. I’m sorry, baby. I can’t go easy on you. I’ll have to be hard out in the field, so I need to know if you can handle it.”

A little trepidation started to crowd out her arousal. She stepped into the playroom because it wasn’t really a dungeon. It was too cheery. Bright late-afternoon light filtered in from the dual skylights on the ceiling. The whole room was painted in lovely blues and greens, the carpet plush under her feet telling her that the Barnes-Fleetwood clan wasn’t into anything too crazy. Blood play addicts would have insisted on easy-clean flooring. She would bet they never got past a little spanking, and some bondage and impact play.

Nothing hard-core. No knives past the ones Barnes would keep to quickly unleash his subs if he needed to.

“Nat, sweetheart, we’re waiting.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her compliance. Chase stepped in, standing next to his brother.

Nat couldn’t help but stare for a moment. This was important. Really important. She would figure out one way or another if she could do this. Years. She’d had years of therapy. She’d done the work. She realized deep down that it hadn’t been her fault.

So why couldn’t she really cry?

“That’s five swats. Every ten seconds you delay is another five.” Chase’s whole demeanor changed. He was taking charge, his shoulders squaring, his eyes hardening. She watched him go from slightly awkward guy to pure Dom in a second.

And damn if her pussy didn’t respond. Well, at least part of her knew what she wanted.

With trembling fingers she pulled her shirt over her head and quickly shoved her pants off. No one had brought her undies or a bra, so that was easy. Naked. She was naked in front of them.

“Natalie, did you have a problem with nudity before you were taken?” Ben asked. His voice wasn’t exactly gentle. Both men had changed when they entered the room.

The days before Hawk came back with the sweetness of a remembered song. “No. I loved it actually. After I moved out of my parents’ place, I spent most of my time naked if I was at home or at the club. I was planning a vacation to a resort before it happened. I guess I was a little bit of an exhibitionist.”

“Well, sweetness, when you’re that gorgeous, you have a lot to exhibit. Now, we’re up to twenty swats. Do you want to go for thirty?” Chase asked.

Damn distracting men. Without another thought except to keeping her ass in one piece, she sank to her knees. Jack Barnes was a kind man. She sank into the plush carpet almost sighing in pleasure at the familiar, comforting position. She wasn’t thinking at all, and she simply found her position, spine straight, head down, knees splayed wide.

God, that was her old position. She hadn’t gone into the more extreme position Hawk had insisted on. He would use a cattle prod on her until her arms were torturously straight behind her back. She hadn’t been terribly flexible when she’d been kidnapped, and Hawk had decided the best way to force her arms into his preferred position was to tie them into place and leave them there for twenty-four hours. Sometimes, her arms still ached from the nerve damage.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Ben’s soft voice pulled her out of that dark place. He got to his knees, one placed between her spread thighs, the other nuzzling the outside of her left leg. “I’m going to ask for one small change.”

She couldn’t try it. She couldn’t shove her arms behind her back. She wasn’t even sure they worked that way anymore. She had nerve damage.

Ben took her hands gently in his and flipped them over so the palms were up on her knees. “I just think this is prettier, but if you need them to keep your balance, just tell me, baby. We just need to make sure you do it the same way every time.”

Chase’s hand found her hair. “I think she’s perfect the way she is.”

“Suck-up,” Ben shot back.

Nat let the memory go. She had to stay on task or her men would end up fighting like five-year-olds.

Her men. She’d just thought it. Dangerous. They weren’t hers, but she could play with them for a while.

“I want to play.” It was a revelation. She fucking wanted to play. Years had drifted by and she’d just gone along, stringing the days together, just surviving. She wanted to feel something other than fear and numbness.

Ben’s hand tangled in her hair, and he pulled her head up. Those deep blue eyes were so serious. “I want to play with you. God, Nat, you have no idea how much.”

“I don’t know how much I’m playing, sweetness,” Chase said, staring down at her. “But I’ll give you what you need. Now, if you’re ready, lean forward and put that gorgeous ass in the air. You’re due some discipline, and then I really want to take a look at that body.”

Discipline. Presentation. Two words sure to get her anxiety up, but they hadn’t steered her wrong. Retraining. What Hawk had taken away, the Dawsons might be able to give back. She wouldn’t know until she’d tried. She’d needed the support of Chase’s body under hers that first night in the dungeon, but Ben helped her lean forward and get to her hands and knees. She was deeply aware of her vulnerability. She was alone in a house with two Doms. She was naked. They could do what they wanted with her.

A little shiver went across her spine. It wasn’t an entirely horrible thought when she knew damn well they wouldn’t really hurt her.

She shivered a little as she felt a big hand caress her ass.

“It’s a count of twenty, sweetness. I want to hear you.” Chase’s hand smacked her ass.

Fire lashed across her. Well, she’d wanted to feel something. She wasn’t numb now. “One.”

“Damn it,” Ben cursed. “Do you have to be so hard?”

She’d never liked it soft. She’d always enjoyed some rough play. “Do it again.”

“She likes it. There’s a smart-ass masochist in there buried under all that fear. I mean to find her.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Count, please.”

“Two, three, four. Damn, Dawson. You hit like a girl.” He was holding back, and she didn’t like it. She’d liked where he’d taken her that first night. He’d pushed her. He’d treated her like a real sub, not a girl made of glass.

“And you push me like a fucking brat.” Smack. Smack. Smack. “Count.”

Every nerve in her ass was screaming, but damn, at least she felt. Tears pricked her eyes. “Five. Six. Seven.”

Smack. “I…” Smack. “Will…” Smack. “Not…” Smack. “Be…” Smack. “Manipulated.”

“Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.” Every slap to her ass was exactly the same pressure, the same pain as the ones before. He wouldn’t hurt her. No matter how hard she pushed him. Tears coursed down. God, they felt so good. It wasn’t close to enough, but it felt good. “Please, Sir. Just a little more.”

“Now that I will respond to.” Smack. This one shook her. Smack. Smack. Smack.

That was what she needed. Pain flared, purifying her emotions and bringing everything she felt down to its base. Pain. Pleasure. A glorious mix of both. “Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen.”

She cursed under her breath. Counting was a way of keeping her in the moment, and she didn’t really want to be in the moment. She wanted subspace. She wanted to float, but Chase was keeping her here.

Smack. Smack. He never hit her in the same place twice. His hand flew across her ass and thighs. Smack. “Count for me, sweetness.”

Bastard wouldn’t let her drift. It was right there. She could still get there. The whole time she’d been held captive she’d never found it. No subspace. No escape. She’d had to be strong. She’d had to keep herself in the moment even when the moment was horrible. She’d clung to the agony. Pain had so oftentimes been the friend to her pleasure, refining it and pushing her over the edge. She didn’t call what Hawk had given her pain. Agony. Never-ending dark. Yes, that was what she’d been in. This was sparks of light. “Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Damn it, Chase.”

Smack. He didn’t hold back with the last one. This one echoed along her spine. This one threatened to pull her back to a time when spanking was a source of pleasure and play and she would wiggle her willing ass at a fun-loving Dom. Nat gasped, her skin soaking up the heat of Chase Dawson’s hand. This wasn’t just fun. This was serious, but it was so much closer to her former life.

“Twenty.”

Her whole body sagged. Chase had kept her there with him, forcing her to be in the moment, and now she was still here. She could still feel the kiss he laid on her cheeks, his mouth caressing her everywhere he’d just slapped. His low moan skimmed along her flesh.

“Punishment, Natalie. Chase gave you his. Now you’ll take mine. On your knees. I need attention.” He was opening his pants, pushing them down. “Sweetheart, if this feels wrong to you, let me know.”

Sucking him off? Nope. That felt perfectly fine to her. His big cock sprang free, and suddenly Chase was beside him, his cock bobbing out of his pants. So much hot masculinity and it was all waiting for her. Three days they’d made her wait. They’d nearly killed her with the polite talking and hand-holding. She was ready for a little nasty stuff.

She let all the worries go and concentrated on the hard cocks in front of her. Pleasure. She could bring them pleasure. If this was the Dawson brothers’ version of rough justice, she could handle it.

She leaned forward and swiped at Ben’s dick with her tongue, satisfied with the groan that came from his mouth. He pressed his cock forward, diving deep.

“More, Natalie. I want to feel that fucking tongue ring.” Ben’s hands went to her hair, but he was gentle as he pulled her forward. She let her tongue whirl around the cock in her mouth.

“My turn.” Chase pulled her off Ben and offered his cock.

She would have trouble with them if she didn’t watch it. She sucked Chase deep, long passes of her mouth over his dick.

“Oh fuck, sweetness. This is exactly what I needed. Thank god for your bratty mouth,” Chase groaned.

They both tasted so good. She settled in, moving from one brother to the other, reveling in how hot they got, how hard their cocks were. They wanted her. It made it easy to forget everything else. Nothing mattered except these men. The world could drift away.

“Finish off Chase,” Ben commanded. “I’ll have my turn later.”

Ben was a giver and Chase took control. “Suck me hard, sweetness. Your mouth feels so fucking perfect and I won’t last long. I’ve been going crazy for days and I had to share a room with Ben. I’ve had to masturbate in the shower.”

Ben snorted. “No wonder you took three showers a day.”

Chase surged into her mouth, his cock taking up all the space. Desperate. He felt desperate to her and she felt the power flow. This was what she loved. The exchange. Dom to sub. Lover to lover.

She forced herself to breathe. She could do this. She remembered how sweet this could be. She pulled her mouth back and found the V on the underside of Chase’s truly beautiful cock. The soft, velvety skin covered his hardness and soothed along her tongue. The dip at the back of his cockhead was perfect for what she had in mind. She planted her tongue ring there and pushed up while she started to suck him hard.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck. God, you’re sweet. Take all of it.” Chase pressed in, forcing his cock to the back of her throat. “Have mercy, Cotton Candy. Just give me what I need.”

She relaxed. He needed the control now and she happily ceded it to him. He held her head in both hands, fucking into her mouth in long, hard strokes. She sucked, fighting him every time he pulled out. He rocked into her, finding a rhythm that soothed her even as she got hotter and hotter. She wanted to suck them both, moving her head between them, giving them their turns because she knew these men would pay her back with interest.

Chase’s movements became jerky, losing their smooth precision as he tightened his hands on her hair. “Take it all, sweetness. It’s all for you.”

She sucked him deep one last time as his cum began to coat her tongue. He was delicious. She’d missed this. The power. The connection. And it was stronger this time because it was Sir Dawson and her Ben. She could feel Ben’s hands on her as she swallowed Chase’s cum.

Chase’s hands softened, his thrusts slowing. “God, sweetness, I needed that.”

Nat sat back on her knees, licking her lips. She’d needed it, too. Days of being close to them had convinced her she wanted them—even if it was just for a little while. She turned her eyes up to Ben, who had tucked his cock back in his pants, but there was no mistaking the massive erection there.

“Not right now. I think I can now say Chase stole my treat and we’re even,” Ben said with a little grimace.

Chase tucked himself back in with a smile. “I’ll take that, brother.”

“On your back, Natalie.” Ben’s voice brooked no disobedience. “You present yourself now. Pussy up. I want to see that little jewel.”

She moved to the requested position, Chase at her back, his hands aiding her, bracing her. The carpet was soft on her sore backside. His breath was on her neck as she spread her legs. He pulled her arms over her head, around his neck. His legs slid under hers, splitting them and forcing them apart. It also forced her to acknowledge that she was hot as hell. Her pussy was ripe. She couldn’t help it. Her whole pelvis was flaring with awareness.

Ben stood over her, six and a half feet of pure grade A alpha male. His jeans were tenting with a spectacular erection. She knew just how hard that cock could get. “Freaking hell, is that a diamond?”

“It’s not real. I got it at a tattoo shop for twenty bucks, but it looked nice.” God, that sounded dumb. They were rich. She’d just told them she’d put a Diamonelle on her clit. Yeah, that was classy.

“I might need to upgrade you, sweetness, but that diamond isn’t the real jewel here,” Chase said. His hands were restless on her body, moving and caressing and finally retreating as though he wasn’t sure what he should do.

They were all feeling their way through this.

Ben got to his knees, his eyes never leaving her pussy. “Did it hurt?”

She felt her lips curve up. “Shockingly no. It hurt a hell of a lot less than the tongue piercing. I was kind of disappointed.” She’d sat in the Dallas tattoo parlor with Kitten and Finn and waited for the pain to purify her. Finn had given her hell about it. She would have simply found the nearest tattoo parlor and gotten the job done, but no, that wasn’t good enough for Finn. He’d researched and then flown out a master piercer from California to a Finn-approved studio for a piercing that had taken next to no time at all. Damn hood hadn’t had a whole lot of nerves, but the cold metal on her clit had been a revelation. “But I wasn’t disappointed when I felt that ball against my clit.”

For the last several years, that piercing had been her only source of sexual stimulation. She gasped as Ben changed that for her. His big hand came down, index finger toying with the piercing. Yep, that had been a damn fine investment.

“It pulled your hood back. Your clit is exposed most of the time.” Ben was talking academically, but his eyes were anything but cool. “It’s pretty. And it seems to have an effect.” He dipped his finger down, sliding through her labia.

He was testing her, pushing her, but all she could think about was the fact that she was between them. Ben knelt between her legs. Chase was at her back, his denim-clad legs holding her open for his brother’s perusal. Her skin hummed. Every inch seemed to be stimulated by some part of them.

“Is she wet?” Chase’s words were hot on her neck. She leaned back into the heat of his chest. His erection was hard against her back, just a couple of centimeters of denim between them.

Ben growled a little, pulling his fingers out of her pussy and then sucking them inside, his tongue swirling to catch every drop of her cream. “Fuck, you taste good, Cotton Candy. I told you I wanted you to sit on my face. If big brother hadn’t been such a possessive dick, I already would have made a meal of you.”

Big brother slid his hands up to her breasts, his fingers finding her nipples. “Don’t you start in on me. I haven’t even fucked her yet. And that wet pussy has something to do with my hand on her ass. She likes a good spanking. Hard and fast. She’s not a tourist. She needs a little bite of pain to go with all that sugar.”

Not a tourist? It was a word lifestylers used for the casual BDSMer, the type who played once or twice and then moved on to the next thing that caught their eye. She’d felt like a tourist in her own life for years now. Chase pinched her nipples. She should get her nipples pierced.

A flash of black memory came back to her. She remembered overhearing Hawk discussing her body modification plans. Hawk often spoke around her like she wasn’t there. Her will hadn’t mattered. She’d had no voice in her own life. She’d been a toy, and a child didn’t take a toy’s wants or needs into consideration.

Fingers pinched her nipples again, this time sharp and hard and biting. Chase barked at her. “Don’t you go somewhere else. You’re here with us.”

She was here with them. She was safe.

“Tell me.” Ben put a hand on her chin. She could smell her arousal on his fingers. It reminded her of just how intimate she’d gotten with these men.

She thought about lying, but all those hours with Janine really had worked her over. Honesty. It was the only thing that would work. And she was a little worried they would know if she lied. She didn’t want to disappoint them. She wanted to please them. Damn. She wanted them to be proud of her.

“It was just a flash. I get them sometimes. The longer I go, the more I forget the specifics, but sometimes it’s like I’m back there.”

Chase’s nose ran along her neck. He seemed to love to smell her. It was something most normal guys would try to hide or cover up, but Chase just seemed to follow his instincts. “You’re here with us now. You’re safe. What was the flashback about? What brought it about? Touching you? No. You were relaxed. It was me.”

He pulled his hands off her breasts.

“No.” She reached for them, trying to draw them back. She could feel his reluctance, but he cupped her again. She pressed her breasts against his palms, trying to let him know she wanted it. She would have to make them understand. “You pinched my nipples, and I thought about how nice it would be to have rings there that you could play with. That’s what made me think about it.”

“All right.” Chase’s voice was deep and even, as though he was holding off judgment. “I’m actually a bit surprised the VCH and the tongue ring are the only modifications you have.”

Ben picked up his brother’s line of thinking. “It would be a way for the fucker to mark you. I was thinking about nipple rings, too. I was thinking about picking them out and then finding a chain we could run from your nipples down to your clit. I want to mark you, and I’m not a crazed asshole.”

“He is from time to time,” Chase muttered. “Don’t let him fool you. There’s only one reason for Hawk to not place a ‘property of’ sign on you. He tattooed Kitten after all.”

She’d seen it. Both Gretchen and Kitten had been forcibly tattooed with a nasty-looking hawk on their shoulder blades. Chase was right. It was a property sign. She’d been terrified of having to sit still for it. And now she was finally putting together the clues. “He didn’t mean to keep me. Kitten was right.”

It was easier to talk with their hands on her. Chase stroked her breasts while Ben’s fingers dipped back into her pussy, playing lightly. Reward. It felt like a reward for being honest, but she rather thought they would see it differently. Comfort. They were comforting her.

“I don’t know that Kitten is the most reliable witness, but in this, I think she’s right,” Chase said. “Ben, Kitten says she overheard Hawk talking about selling Natalie to another Dom. I’ll admit that this whole incident was over with by the time Ben and I began working with Julian. I know there’s a file at our office and I’ve looked through it, but I didn’t expend an enormous amount of energy thinking about it besides the fact that I knew you’d killed a man before.”

And sometimes Chase’s lack of a filter was annoying. “So you thought I’d done in Stan?”

His fingers bit at her nipples again. It seemed to be his default way of telling her to hush. She might have been offended if it hadn’t felt so damn good. “We’re talking about the other massive criminal operation you were involved in.”

Well, that made it sound bad. “It wasn’t like I was happy about being involved.”

Ben thumped a finger against her piercing, causing her to squeal a little. “No sarcasm right now.” He frowned, obviously thinking. “My initial thoughts were that he was building a harem, but I think you’re right, Chase. Especially if Kitten overheard him.”

There was a little huff on the back of her neck. “I’m always right. It makes a person wonder. They didn’t find anything about other men being involved.”

“Hawk was careful. Always. I think he conducted business over the phone and then in very careful words.” She shivered a little. Someone had wanted to buy her. She could have been shipped off to some foreign country and no one would have seen her again if Kitten hadn’t been brave enough to steal that knife.

“You’re fine, sweetness. No one is going to take you again.” Chase let go of her nipples and hugged her. “What would make you feel better? What used to make you feel secure?”

Ropes. She’d enjoyed being tied up in a neat little package, but her muscles ached at the thought. She couldn’t. Not yet. “I liked being flogged.”

She could try that. The spanking had done wonders for her. Maybe the flogger would be the same.

Ben frowned. “Normally I would put you on the cross.”

She shook her head. “No. No. I can’t. Not yet.”

Chase moved away from her. “I can handle it. Lay yourself out on the bed, arms out. I’m going to use a warm-up flogger. Deerskin. Very easy.”

She was brutally self-conscious as he hauled her up. Just seconds before she hadn’t thought about her nudity, but their hands had been on her. Now she could only feel the cool air on her skin.

The bed. She glanced to the corner of the play space. There was a giant bed with a soft, fluffy comforter and lots of pillows. She could see numerous hooks that could be adjusted hanging down from the ceiling. The whole guesthouse was tricked out for D/s play. But Chase was right. She couldn’t handle being tied down. Tying her to one of the overhead hooks would be the best way to use the flogger, but if Chase was careful, she would be fine on the bed. Deerskin was soft, a perfect entryway flogger.

Ben led her to the bed, his hand holding hers. God, this would be so much easier if they were naked, but she understood what they were doing. A longtime sub would be used to nudity. She or he wouldn’t blink if their Masters sat around fully clothed while they were naked.

Still, she wanted to go back to that moment when Ben’s hands were on her pussy and she could feel Chase behind her.

“Natalie, this is what I’m going to use on you. It’s going to give you a thud, not a sting.” Chase pulled a soft pink flogger from his bag. He held it out, offering for her to touch the falls.

Soft. Each one was buttery soft. She’d had much worse used on her, but this would work to see if she could handle it. Unless Chase Dawson simply sucked with a flogger, it should give her nothing but a good thud. She took a long breath and nodded.

She would survive this. She got to her knees and spread out on the bed, her breasts against the silky comforter. How bad could it be? Her heart raced just a little as she put her arms out. She was well aware that every muscle in her body was tight.

He was going to beat her with a flogger. Hawk had a flogger. He’d had several, but his favorite had been cowhide with steel spikes on the ends. Her skin had been flayed when she misbehaved. After that first time, she’d learned to fear the flogger. She was pretty sure she still had scars. The initial time he’d punished her with it, she’d been sure she would die. He’d tied her to the cross on the wall and by the time he was done, she couldn’t hold her own body weight up. She’d needed the straps.

Gretchen and Kitten had doctored her wounds and carried her back to the cage. Hawk had just left her on the floor, bleeding.

Thud.

The flogger hit her back. No pain, just that sound she’d forgotten. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The flogger found her right shoulder. Her left shoulder, and then her back. Chase rapidly found about six spots on her back and formed a nice pattern.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

No pain. Just that buttery soft massage she’d forgotten. Survive? She didn’t have to survive this. This sank into her skin, relaxing her very being.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Like pounding, silky rain on her skin.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Like the sound of a train travelling, taking her someplace new, someplace safe.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Familiar and yet new. That sound, the pleasant slap against her flesh, caused her lungs to fill and release.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her vision softened until she closed her eyes because she didn’t need to see. She only needed to feel.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Natalie gave up her worries and let herself finally float in that place she’d thought she’d lost forever, that place that was her birthright, subspace.

The world fled and she was happy for the first time in years.