Lesson In Honesty (Club Serenity #3)

Chapter Ten

Sierra

S he drank the water.

It didn’t make her feel much better, just heavy and bloated like the fat, ugly swamp monster those horrible Littles said she was. A hairy abomination, not worthy of the love of one Daddy, let alone two. They’d taunted her, asking how Liam could stand sticking his dick in her, if he pressed her face into a pillow so he didn’t lose his erection before he even got it in her.

That cut too close to home, an almost perfect bullseye in an open wound.

She was exhausted, right down to the bones. Not just from crying her heart out or from the pain they’d caused. No, this exhaustion stemmed from something far deeper, a familiar place she hadn’t visited in years, where the void opened up and swallowed her whole into the pitch blackness beyond.

Through the foggy buzz in her head, an epic crying hangover in progress, she heard Liam’s voice, low and soothing. For a while it was just him, then Mack’s joined in. She couldn’t distinguish the words, but she took comfort in the rhythm of them while she could.

Did you crawl out of the swamp or did someone hook your lip and drag you out?

She looks like a monkey. A mutant ape. Call a trophy hunter—someone would pay good money to have that head stuffed and mounted on their wall.

Maybe her mother fucked Bigfoot.

Don’t be stupid. A woman gives birth to this kind of abomination, she wasn’t fucked willingly. Was mommy raped by Bigfoot? Is that why you look like an ape after its been hit by a semi?

Sierra leaned forward and covered her face with her hands. Sickness roiled in her belly, threatening to expel the water. More tears wanted to fall, but the ducts were dry, burning her eyes.

Wyatt had tried to love her and failed.

Liam believed he loved her, but they both knew he could do better.

Mack… well, he’d go home soon.

Crawl back into your hole and die, why don’t you? Think of it as community service. Saves us the job of calling wildlife enforcement to come out and shoot you.

Bet they’d have fun hunting it, though.

Fuck, forget about the FWS. If we capture it, fly it somewhere remote, we can sell it to the highest bidder. Hell, numerous bidders. First to shoot it gets to keep it.

As long as it’s dead, one way or the other. It’s fucking offensive .

Maybe that was the way forward. It wouldn’t take long to Google painless ways to die. She didn’t want to suffer anymore—wasn’t she in enough pain now?

The first snows hadn’t arrived yet, but the temperatures were already plummeting by the time it got dark. All she needed to do was wander out into the night, into the forest beyond the club boundaries, and nature would do the rest for her.

Hypothermia wasn’t the worst way to go. Once the cold passed the point of biting, she could just curl up somewhere like an animal and let sleep take her far, far away where she didn’t offend anyone, didn’t fail and disappoint people.

If the doctor’s office—the real one—stocked sleeping pills, she could hurry the process along. Fall into that bottomless pit before the cold stole her digits and turned her skin black.

Liam would grieve, understandably. He’d tried so hard to show her what she was, but she wasn’t what he saw. God, in his eyes, she was beautiful and strong. A woman who took everything life threw at her and just kept going, channeling her emotions into her stuffies, focusing on the positives in the world.

In reality, she was weak. She kept going because she’d never been tired enough to consider another avenue. Even when she’d been at Wyatt’s mercy, with Liam nowhere in the picture, she hadn’t reached this level of low.

There was no reason to fight anymore. She couldn’t help but question the feelings of those around her—did Liam really love her? Were her friends truly her friends? The people who smiled at her and spoke to her like a human being, did they do that to humor her?

She was resigned to not being a mother. That fact was just another crack in an already crumbling heart. Her body was too set on destroying itself to allow anything to grow in the barrenness.

Another disappointment, another failure.

Another black mark against the reasons to live.

Hands clasped hers, pulling them away from her face. A fingertip under her chin lifted her head until she stared blankly into solid gray eyes.

Liam .

Her heart tried to leap the way it always did whenever she saw him, whether it was two minutes since the last time or two hours. It tried so hard, and failed.

“Come on, babygirl. We need to go.”

Yes, she did. It was time.

Time to do the right thing and eradicate the burden she created in his life.

They could both be free.

Her tongue felt fat and thick in her mouth as she formed words. “Why don’t you and Mack go ahead? I’d like some time alone.”

His gaze searched her face, her eyes, and sorrow filled it. Shaking his head, he murmured, “You’re not going to be alone for a while, Sierra. Do you think I don’t know when you’re checking out on me? It’s not the first time, minx, or have you forgotten?”

She frowned. Her brain felt numb and disconnected, already separating mind and body in preparation. “Forgotten what?”

“Well, that answers that, doesn’t it?” He sighed and cupped her cheek. “Two months after Wyatt died, you did exactly this. Shut down, shut me out. I found you in bed with a treasure trove of pills piled in a heap in your lap. There was enough to kill you if you’d taken them.”

The frown deepened. She had no recollection of that, not even a flicker of memory. Surely she’d remember that?

“It took Connie all night to get you to talk. You cried until you were sick, and even then you couldn’t stop. She sedated you, kept you under for almost a week so your body and mind could heal.” He stroked her cheekbone. “Connie’s not here, babygirl. There’s no sedation to knock you out and let you rest. So we’re going to root out the issue another way.”

Sierra shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“I know three fuckwits who know nothing about you chose to make you their source of entertainment. I know they said horrible, demoralizing, cruelly barbed things.” When her gaze fell to her lap, he tsked softly and tap-tap-tapped her cheek until she raised it again. “What I understand, Sierra, is how fucking deep they cut. I understand they opened up old wounds, old doubts, and brought a whole ton of repressed shit to the surface. I’ve loved you long enough to know that when the pain is severe enough, you’ll hide it from me until hiding doesn’t work.”

“I don’t want to hurt like this anymore.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Liam.”

“Fuck, Sierra, the only way you can hurt me is if you steal yourself away from me. Open your eyes, minx. Now.”

She obeyed because, well, he was Liam. Her lover, her Master, her Daddy until the end.

“This is a lesson in honesty. I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer me honestly .” The growl in his voice warned of punishment if she lied. “Take your time to think it through before you give me a response. Got me?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said miserably.

The grip on her face tightened. She heard his breath catch before he spoke, sensed the emotion he was struggling to keep from swaying her answer.

“Do you really want to die, Sierra? Here and now?”

Oh, he was stronger than she was in so many ways. She’d never have been brave enough to ask such a thing, nor would she have admitted to wanting it all to end without provocation.

The fact he asked it outright, so direct, stopped her from answering in kind. He’d asked her to think about it, so she would, even though her thoughts were already mired in the many reasons to say yes and be done with it.

It was harder to reconcile herself with dying, she discovered, when those beautiful eyes held hers captive. All she could imagine was how he’d looked in the months after Wyatt’s death, how dull and flat the gray had been, how he’d aged.

Had she contributed to that grief? How must it have felt to walk into their bedroom where the ghost of Wyatt still lingered—through traces of his scent, his clothes still in the drawers, his mechanic manuals still on the shelves—and find her in bed, with the weapon of her demise locked and loaded in her lap?

How close had she come to ending it without realizing it?

What he felt for her went far beyond his feelings for Wyatt—she knew that because he’d shown her, told her, more times than she could count. What would happen to him if she gave in, gave up, and stole love from him a second time?

Wyatt broke him into pieces, fixable pieces.

Her death would ruin him, raze him to bone and ash.

How could she say she loved him and do that to him in the next breath?

“No. No, I don’t.”

Liam dragged her forward, folding her into his arms and hugging her tightly. Relief and that unending love battered at the numbness protecting her, but it wasn’t until he whispered her name brokenly that they penetrated the shield.

Her arms lifted, wrapping around him to hold him just as tight.

“For the life of me, I don’t know what I’d have done if you’d said yes.”

Sierra nuzzled her face into his neck, surprised by the rapid bounce of his pulse against her cheek. “I-I didn’t mean what I said, Liam. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I couldn’t… I can’t…”

“Stop. Your eyes can’t lie to me, minx. I don’t have to hear it in your voice to know when you’re falling. I’ll always be there to catch you.” He kissed her temple. “And just in case you think you can slide it by me again, I’m going to teach Mack how to read the signs. How to read you .”

Oh, wonderful. Two Doms with intimate knowledge of her every eyebrow twitch? She wouldn’t be able to pee without them knowing what she was doing.

But she didn’t argue. Couldn’t. It was just petty, considering she’d probably scared a few more silver hairs into that regal blond beard. So she nodded her agreement and cuddled into him, willing to give him whatever he needed to make up for her weakness.

She started to doze, lulled by his warmth, his scent, the rise and fall of his chest. Exhaustion weighed heavy, although now it was malleable instead of a thick, cloying chain around her ankle pulling her down, down, down.

“Everything’s ready, Liam.” Mack’s voice trickled into her consciousness, respectfully quiet. “Are you sure you want to go ahead with it? She’s damn near asleep.”

“It needs to be now, while her defenses are low. Maybe she’ll absorb it all better when her walls aren’t filtering out what she doesn’t want to hear.”

She stirred, annoyed as hands niggled at her. Something soft and warm slipped up her arms, over her head. Her limbs were limp, hindering the tug of material over her legs. Her feet were gently covered in fluffiness.

There was a lurch, a shift in position, then she was comfortably draped against Liam’s body. She felt his strong arm under her butt, supporting her weight, and another across her back.

Wheeee .

Flying. She loved it when he took her flying. She didn’t need wings or the wind; he lifted her up and let her soar. All too soon the lovely warmth gave way to the brutal kiss of coldness against her exposed skin; her cheeks stung from it, firing a shiver that started along her spine and spread to her fingertips, toes, and everywhere in between.

“Do you know how to drive one of these things?”

“It’s a golf cart, Liam, I think they’re pretty self-explanatory.”

“Then why are we going backwards?”

“Give me a second, damn it. It’s not like these things have interior lights so I can see the fricking controls.” Mack muttered under his breath. “The next time Evander has the bright idea to build a BDSM club with open walkways, convince him to choose somewhere warm like the goddamn Bahamas.”

Liam chuckled. “I had no input into the location. My role is bartender and manager, that’s all. I’m sure he’d listen to your complaints if you want to write him a note.”

The quiet purr of an electric motor entered her peaceful bubble, followed by a triumphant “ Aha! ” from Mack. A moment later, the brisk chill on her skin was accompanied by the rush of wind through her hair.

For an eternity, she hovered in her sanctuary, using Liam as a giant hot water bottle. As the minutes ticked past, the cold began to rouse her, making true sleep elusive as she fussed and fidgeted to keep warm.

“Almost there, pixie.”

Where was there?

Moaning, she wiggled and stretched. The cold hit her teeth when she yawned, seared her throat as she breathed deep. “Bedtime, Daddy?”

“Sorry, babygirl. It’s nearly time to wake up properly.”

“Ugh.”

The relentless whirr of the motor slowly died, and the breeze stopped.

She willingly latched on to Liam as she was cradled securely on his hip yet again and carried. This time out of the bitter chill into blessed, skin-tingling warmth.

Sierra sniffed, catching the scent of various aftershaves and a whiff of woodsmoke. Fighting to open her eyes, she found herself on her feet, swaying as she was stripped down to her underwear.

Yawning again, she gripped Liam’s arm and managed to blink until her eyes took the hint and stayed open. Her mouth froze in the O position.

Taking a hurried step back, she tripped over her own stupid feet. “What the hell is this?”

Liam kept her upright. “Intervention, minx.”

Oh boy, she wasn’t mentally or physically prepared for this kind of intervention.

Masters Merrick, Fordham, and Levi stood around the flickering flames in the firepit of Levi’s home—no wonder it took so long to get here; his studio-slash-house was at the very edge of the club property line, overlooking a freaking valley.

They waited patiently, bare arms folded over equally bare chests, and they did not look happy. She sensed their displeasure as though it was a tangible wall just on the verge of collapsing and crushing her under the weight.

Mack was peeling off his upper layers, his boots already cast off to one side. When his torso was delightfully naked, he moved to stand beside Merrick.

One thing was for sure—she was well and truly awake now.

“You seem to find it difficult to understand the lengths people who love you are prepared to go, Sierra. Every time we make progress, something undermines it and sets you back. Why?” Liam released her, yanking his sweatshirt off and tossing it aside.

Christ, he expected her to talk?

Seriously?

“Ack,” was the best she could manage.

“I think he wants an answer, pixie.”

Another strangled noise escaped her.

“The lesson in honesty is ongoing,” Liam warned her. “Why do you let people steal your confidence? I’ve shown you how much I love you. Mack’s proved how attractive he finds you. Your friends tell you in so many ways how much you mean to them. Yet we end up in an episode like tonight.”

Mortification erupted, sending blood rushing up her throat into her cheeks and ears. Surely, please, he hadn’t told these Masters what state of mind she’d been in less than an hour ago? How low she’d sunk.

No, not Liam, she realized. He hadn’t had the time or opportunity.

She narrowed her eyes at Mack.

“They know,” he said quietly. “Things escalated and we needed to make sure everyone was still onboard with the original plan. Can’t expect a conscientious Dom to play with a sub with a glaring issue without forewarning.”

“It won’t go any further than us, Sierra.” Fordham leveled her with a look that sent a chill down her spine. “We’re not here to make you feel embarrassed or ashamed.”

“We’ve all had rough times, pet.” Levi lifted a shoulder. “Each of us has history that’s knocked us flat on our backs and tried to steamroll us. There’s no shame in being human. We’re just here to help.”

“Y-You can help by putting your clothes back on.”

Merrick glowered at her; she immediately wanted to retract that statement.

“Tonight is all about you, Sierra. You’re probably going to hate it, but I need to get it through your stubborn, irrational brain that you are more than what you believe.” Liam jerked his chin at Fordham. “Do you need cuffs on?”

Sierra frowned. Hadn’t they already put cuffs on her? Damn it, why did only a couple of hours ago seem like a lifetime? Holding out her hands, she scowled at her unadorned wrists.

“I took them off when you broke down,” Liam murmured.

Ford’s serious gaze stroked up and down her body in an oddly professional assessment. “Yeah, wrists and ankles. A collar might come in handy if you’ve got one, Levi.”

“I’ve got a variety; take your pick.”

“The rest of her clothing can go, Liam. The ropes are more effective against bare skin.”

Collars and bondage? What cockamamie idea had her lover come up with this time? Ropes meant restraint, and if she was tied seven ways to Sunday, there was no escape from the five hulking men eyeing her up like a juicy steak.

God, that shouldn’t make her hot and flustered.

Shouldn’t.

Apparently her traitorous hussy pussy didn’t get the memo.

As Levi and Ford moved over to a table and began inspecting collars, Sierra inched back. Multiple Doms at one time was a particular fantasy of hers, but she needed to process it.

“Come here, little girl.” Merrick beckoned her over with a finger. “If the rope maestro wants you naked, naked you’re gonna be.”

The energy in the room was swirling, ricocheting off the men until it sucked her in like a vortex. Lightly at first, just a whisper of something over her skin. That something began to grow teeth as it spun, using the men as conduits, turning the air too thick to breathe.

“Liam, there are five men here,” she hissed.

“Five Masters,” he corrected lazily. “Our illustrious hero over there got an upgrade from Elias. He’s Master Maverick now.”

Wonderful, he got a promotion. That didn’t help her predicament, did it? It made it infinitely worse—her first instinct was to obey a Master… even if she was willfully ignoring Master Merrick at this moment in time.

“Would you believe it?” Sierra asked in a falsely cheerful tone. “I think I left the oven on, possibly even my hair straighteners. I really should go back to the cabin and check before I confine myself to the bedroom and ponder the consequences of my actions.”

“Babygirl, you don’t own hair straighteners.”

“Don’t bother pondering, either,” Merrick told her as he strode over and plucked her off her feet. She instinctively braced her hands on his lower back when he tossed her over his shoulder. “These are the consequences of your actions, Sierra, and they’ll only get worse if you continue to disobey.”

Her Little threatened to come out and smack his tight tushy. For an older man, Merrick was disturbingly fit. “You are not my Daddy!”

“Daddy Merrick,” he hummed. “That has a certain kind of ring to it, I guess. Problem is, troublemaker, your Daddy gave all of us his permission to do what we want with you.”

“Within the parameters,” Liam added.

“Within the parameters,” he parroted, carting her across the room. “I’m not the Dom in the room you want to piss off. Do what you’re told when I tell you to do it and we won’t have any misunderstandings.”

She smacked her hands on his back, relishing the sound of flesh on flesh. Was that why Doms liked spanking so much? The sound and the sting in their hand? “Who’s the Dom I want to piss off?”

“None of us, pet.” Levi’s voice drifted around her, then his face came into view when Merrick let her slide down the front of his body and spun her around. “This is the lion’s den and you… well, five lions in their prime against one shy lioness only ends one way.”

With Merrick’s hands on her shoulders, Sierra lost herself in Levi’s eyes. Big and brown, the perfect match for his mahogany-red hair. She blinked as he lifted a collar to her throat and got a grunt of approval from Fordham.

Breathless, she asked, “What way is that?”

He grinned, fastening the collar in position. “The lioness gets fucked, of course. Over and over again until her legs won’t bear her weight. When she’s down on her belly, she’s gonna get it some more. Want to know what happens after that, pet?”

Bewitched by the melodic rise and fall of his voice, she was helpless to stop the slow nod.

“Every lion knows what she smells like, how she tastes. They’re intimate with the noises she makes and how her body dances under their hands. They started out admiring her, craving her, and by the end… they adore her all the more.”

Damn, he was an expert at striking the right spot. Even as her face filled with heat, his meaning hitting bullseye, he trailed his fingers down her arm and stepped back.

“Maverick, she’s all yours.”

Mack smiled and crossed over to her, cuffs linked over his hand. “Ankles first, pixie. You doing okay?”

“I’ll strip the girl myself then, shall I?” Merrick muttered under his breath. A dark chuckle followed, more to himself than anyone else. “What the hell am I complaining for? I like unwrapping pretty presents.”

Her mind struggled to focus on all the hands, flicking between Mack dropping to his knees to fasten the cuffs around her ankles and Merrick’s big, rough hands deftly removing every scrap of clothing she wore.

Closing her eyes, she savored the brush of rough skin against hers. She loved how another’s touch felt—she just couldn’t stand to watch beautiful hands sully themselves on her unworthy body.

“And just like that, she’s all mine. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Ugh, did she have to?

The fast pinch to her nipple assured her, yes, she did.

Fordham filled her vision. Shirtless, his arms corded with muscle no financial advisor should own, he waited like one of those lions Levi mentioned. Two different sets of rope were slung over his shoulder—one black, one green—and they draped down his front like a snake.

All the Masters present were hot in their own capacity, even Merrick with his broad, silver hair-flecked chest. Varying degrees of musculature, grooming habits, and skin tones. The bulges in their jeans, however, were disturbingly similar in size—there wasn’t a small package among them.

“You’ve been bound before. This will be more complicated and time-consuming.” Pulling on one length of rope, he coiled it in his hand. The emerald green shimmered through his fingers. “At some point, you’ll want to go down—on your knees, your back, your belly. It’s perfectly normal but I need you to tell me when that happens.” He gestured behind her. “Mack and Liam are waiting. They’ll lift you when it’s time.”

“L-Lift me?”

The rope slithered through his grasp as he arranged it how he wanted it. “Mmmn. Tonight you’re going to fly, sweetheart. Don’t want you running away now, do we?” Bending, he brushed his lips over her cheek, giving her a strong hit of earthy aftershave. He smelled fucking gorgeous. “I’ve been wanting to see you in my ropes again, Sierra. I’m partial to the way they hug your curves.”

She spared a single, disgusted glance down her body. Stress and the ungodly fear she was too fat to keep Liam interested had whittled her body into a former shadow of itself.

The end of the rope lashed her thigh; she jumped and cursed at the sting.

“This is a no-negativity zone, honey,” Merrick called out. “One of us will reprimand you if we think you’re heading down that path.”

Sulking just a little, she rubbed the line of fire lingering under her skin. Guess she knew how they were going to reprimand her for thoughts outside her control.

“The safeword is red.” Ford laid the middle section of the rope around the back of her neck, pulling it around to tie the first knot at the base of her throat. “Would you prefer something tangible instead?”

The material felt soft and silky against her skin. Ignoring her body, she focused on the deft movements of his hands as he turned limp rope into a living, breathing entity curling around her. “Are you going to gag me?”

“No, sweetheart.” Another knot just above her cleavage. “Shibari is a freeing experience for many submissives. So freeing they sometimes float away or lose their voice.” His hands stroked around her back, guiding his tool, before he shifted behind her to continue. “Levi has non-verbal aids if you want one.”

Sierra trembled. Did she trust her voice not to crap out on her? Probably not. The damn thing was temperamental at the best of times. But did she need a safeword or an aid?

Liam wouldn’t hurt her—that was a fact, pure and simple—and Mack was as bloodthirsty as a cocker spaniel puppy; a sharp nip here and there kept him happy. The other three were unknown, but she couldn’t imagine they’d purposefully damage her.

“No, I-I can manage.” Nerves began to get the best of her as the rope tightened slightly around her back. She tried to shuffle around, needing to see Liam, but Ford shushed her softly and gave her a firm order to stay still.

“There won’t be any pain, sweetheart,” he assured her, sounding distracted. Moving around her, he wove a tantalizing web. “However, you are exhausted which means you’ll reach your limits faster. Have you ever been so tired that noises seem louder, your skin becomes oversensitive?”

Once or twice. Usually when she hadn’t slept for a couple of days. “Yes, sir.”

“You might find you’ll experience it again. If you reach that point, we need to know.” His fingers cupped her right breast, testing the shape and weight, before doing the same with her left. With a quiet hum, he brought both sides of the rope beneath them, tied a knot, then adjusted the placement. “Do you know the four-count for breathing, Sierra?”

Her throat tightened. “I’m familiar with it, sir.”

“Good. Start now, please.” His gaze flashed up to hers briefly. “Relax, sweetheart. Breathe, relax, and enjoy.”

Ha, was he joking?

Relax? There were another four hungry lions—fuck, Masters, not freaking lions —hanging around on the sidelines waiting for him to finish tying her up so they could ravish her, and he wanted her to relax?

She’d been a virgin before she gave herself to Wyatt in an act of love that wasn’t reciprocated. That gift had been abused and thrown back in her face. Liam came along and swept her off her feet, and for a while she’d been the squishy filling in a Dom sandwich.

After that, it was just her and Liam, though intimacy had been… sporadic.

She twitched as the backs of Ford’s fingers brushed along a particularly erogenous zone on her back, shivering as the acute pleasure arrowed straight between her legs.

Mack was only her third lover. Her third . She knew subs in Avalon who slept with more Doms than that in a week. He and Liam hadn’t even taken her together yet, and now she was facing a firing squad of very masculine, incredibly dominant males.

More men than she’d been with in her lifetime in one freaking go.

“I said breathe, Sierra.” Fordham gave her ass a quick smack. “Do I need to count with you?”

“No, sir.” She forced herself to close her eyes and block out the sensual winding of the rope around her upper chest. If she didn’t look, she might be able to shut out the Masters as well.

Inhale—one, two, three, four.

Hold—one, two, three, four.

Exhale—one, two, three, four.

Sierra fell back into the rhythm easily, concentrating on the count rather than the stressors around her. With her brain occupied by the task, her body was free to absorb touch and sensation.

Each skim of Fordham’s skin against hers.

The subtle tightening of the soft, soft rope.

The press of carefully positioned knots.

Bit by bit, he built a wearable hug. As the rope web extended down her body, it felt as though strong arms embraced her, taking away the anxiety and uncertainty of a situation of which she had zero control.

Her stomach and hips fell victim to the rope.

Her head dropped forward, no longer cluttered.

“Are you getting this, Levi?”

She moaned, hearing Liam’s voice and wanting to find the source. Her head felt too heavy, her eyes unwilling to open. Peace was a wicked drug, soothing and comforting.

“Yeah, I got her. She looks fucking amazing on camera. They’re going to be beautiful photos, Liam.”

A sliver of unease wormed through her, threatening her sanctuary.

Camera? Photos?

No .

“You’re okay, Sierra.” Fordham commanded her attention. “Nearly done with the first rope, you’re doing so well. Just need you to spread your legs a little wider for me.”

If she moved, she’d fall. Her legs were locked in place, her feet stuck to the carpet that felt so decadent beneath her bare soles, between her toes.

Even as she fumbled with words, hands captured her hips. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Take a step to the left for me.” The pride in Ford’s voice when she shakily obeyed fluttered through her. “That’s it, such a good girl. Now the other one.”

God, she felt so exposed. Heat from the fire kept the room warm and toasty, but as she willingly opened herself to scrutiny, it seemed as though the Masters’ stares were directly between her legs.

“Liam, do you want a plug in this pretty asshole?”

“No, she’s fine.”

That voice again. She tried to lift her arms, to reach for him, but they were too heavy. Everything felt languid and distant, as though she was drowning in molasses. “Master Liam?”

Holy hell, was that her voice? Slurred and hardly more than a whisper?

“You’re okay, minx. I’m right here.” The words in that lovely, familiar tone was a hit of another magical drug pumping through her veins. “Fuck, you’re stunning. All that pale skin and the green… if Ford wasn’t creating a masterpiece, I’d tell him to hurry up so I could show you how much I fucking need you.”

Fingers stroked over her pussy from behind, wrenching a frantic whimper from her. The rope dug into her labia, then came up between her ass cheeks, a hard knot settling over her asshole.

“Think you’ve got yourself a rope bunny, Liam.” Fordham chuckled, stroking her again. “She loves the ropes as much as they love her—she’s drenched.”

A collective groan followed.

“Hands behind your back, sweetheart.”

She gave it her best attempt. “Heavy.”

“Yeah, you’re damn near flying already.” A gentle hand grasped her wrist, easing it to the base of her spine. There was a tug on her cuff, then her other arm was carefully set into place. Another tug, and her arms were bound. “Perfect. Just a warning, Sierra, if you struggle, the movement is going to rub the knot on your clit.”

There was no chance of that happening. It was taking every ounce of control not to simply fall flat on her face and surrender to the floaty, floaty sensations.

The section of rope on her pussy was adjusted, parted to frame her pussy rather than bisect it. Something caught on the side of her clit, buckling her knees with the sudden jolt of pleasure.

“There we go. Liam, Mack, let’s get her up.”

Warm bodies pressed on either side of her, bare skin brushing back and forth against her arms as she was gently hoisted off her feet. The feeling of being hugged intensified a thousand-fold when the ropes pressed deeper into her skin, taking her weight as she was left suspended in the air.

A beard tickled her cheek, accompanied by firm lips. “Don’t fly away just yet, babygirl. Need you to stay here with us for a while longer, okay?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she sighed in agreement.

Another pair of lips, a scratchier beard, on her other cheek. “I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen that night you were on your knees, pixie. That was nothing, nothing , compared to how gorgeous you are now.”

Her head rolled toward Mack’s voice, then simply dropped and hung.

“Liam, can you braid her hair?” Levi asked from miles away.

She began to swing lightly in the harness as hands smoothed up her thighs. More rope began to wind around her left one, starting at her knee and coiling up toward her butt. What seemed like an hour later, her leg was bent up, and the cuff on her ankle anchored it with her heel against her ass.

Fingers combed through her hair as it tumbled around her head, then patiently gathered the red strands and plaited them into a thick braid. “All done, beautiful girl. Is the harness comfortable? Is biting anywhere, pinching?”

She shook her head slowly, enjoying the weightlessness. “Nuh-uh, Sir.”

“Use this ribbon, tie the bottom of her braid to one of the rings on her collar,” Levi directed. There was a pause, then a curt, “No, not that one. The light’s wrong. Try a different one… no, that isn’t it, either.” A hum of approval. “That one. Yeah, tie it there, make the bow a little sloppy, not all neat and tidy. Bullseye.”

The rapid-fire snicks of a camera shutter came from nearby. Her brain recognized the sound, feared it, and gave a valiant attempt at rousing her body from its almost hibernating state.

Warmth came to stand beside her—Liam? Mack? Ford? Someone tested her fingers, her pulse, the snugness of her cuffs. Obviously satisfied, they checked each section of rope, every knot, by skimming their fingertips over her.

“Gentlemen, I give you quite possibly the finest piece of art I’ve ever created.” Fordham rested his hand on her ass and set her into motion. Back and forth, back and forth. “Of course, the canvas is a special kind of perfect without my help.”

“Goddamn it, Ford, if I ever get a sub of my own, I’ll pay you to bind her every night before bed,” Merrick said huskily. “She is divine.”

“The camera adores her,” Levi chimed in. “The green goes really well with her skin tone and hair. I could sell a thousand photos with her expression alone—she’s already high.”

“Told you Shibari was freeing. One of the ultimate acts of submission, allowing herself to be bound completely. Leaving herself utterly at the mercy of her Masters.”

That didn’t sound too bad, she thought as her body drifted back and forth like a lazy pendulum. Her Masters were good men who knew what it was to grant mercy. She was safe with them, always.

“So, how are we doing this? Age, size, flipping a coin?” Mack asked.

“If we’re going by size, might want me to go last.” Laughter was in Merrick’s voice. “I’d hate to ruin the girl for the rest of you.”

Levi snorted. “C’mon, Merrick. Two minutes and you’ll be done for the night.”

“Pup, just ‘cause I’m older than the rest of you doesn’t mean I can’t outpace you. Once I start, you’ll still be standing here thirty minutes later, strangling your puny dick in your hand and wondering how the hell an old timer like me can keep going long after you’re spent.”

Were they… fighting over who got to fuck her first?

The notion should have turned her stomach, but instead she was intrigued. No one ever argued over such things when she was involved—she just wasn’t the kind of woman men looked at twice, let alone competed for like this.

“There are rules,” Liam interjected smoothly. He was calm, which put her at ease. “No condoms as agreed. No anal, no pain. Humiliation is a strict hard limit. Sierra is not a toy, she is not a whore, she is not—”

“We understand the rules, Liam. We’re just messing with each other.”

“I know. But this is important.”

“You or Mack should be first, Liam. There’s no rush; she’ll feel more comfortable with one of you.” Ah, the wisdom came from Ford. “Merrick and Levi can have a dick measuring contest while they wait.”

“Notice how he excludes himself from said competition?” Levi asked, chuckling.

“I know what I’ve got and how to use it. Trust me, you’re not in the same league.”

“Oh, burn.” Mack laughed. “Someone needs to man up and start before our sub falls asleep in her harness.”

No rush, she thought. Fordham was right. She was content to just hang here, ignoring the ache in her pussy, listening to the novelty of five Masters bantering.

A zipper whirred; material rustled.

A moment later, there was a whole lot more of the same.

Sierra crooned in her throat, valiantly forcing her heavy eyelids open. She smiled dopily at the faces watching her, confused by the varying degrees of lust aimed in her direction.

Oh, but they were pretty. Hunky, chunky beefcakes.

She giggled and blew them a kiss.

Hands clamped on her ass, kneading her bare butt. The ache in her core ignited—she was familiar with that possessive touch, just as her body recognized the connection.

“Look at you, all spread open and waiting for me.” Liam kissed her ass cheek, his beard spreading the growing fire. “I wish you could see yourself, minx. Pink and swollen, wasting all that precious cream in a puddle on Levi’s floor. Have you left any for me?”

A moan ravaged her throat.

“We had something a lot different planned, only you lost yourself, Sierra. So there’ll be no flogging, no anal play, nothing to distract you from what comes next.” Cupping her pussy, he slid two fingers inside her and hooked them unerringly against her G-spot. “Four of the best men I know at my disposal, each of them a Master for a reason, ready to prove one thing. Can you guess what it is?”

“Please,” she whispered, clenching on his fingers.

“No, that’s not it. Guess again.”

She didn’t have many functioning brain cells left to guess . Her whole system was rebooting with one thing and one thing only in mind. She tried to wriggle and discovered the full extent of her restraints.

Fordham was damn good at his job.

“All right, I won’t make you guess.” He eased his fingers free, cleaning them with a loud suck. “They’re going to be inside you, Sierra. I’m giving them permission to fuck the woman I love so you understand actions are louder than the words from mouths of bigots and lookists.” He leaned over her as much as the harness allowed and set his hand under her chin. “Eyes don’t lie, minx; watch theirs and believe what they’re telling you.”

“I-I… Liam…” She barely had time to register the crown of his cock notching against her before he gripped her hip and mounted, ripping his name from her lips a second time, this time on a scream.

“Eyes,” he growled. “Pick one and look him in the goddamn eyes.”

Fisting her hands, she swept her gaze over the Masters, jolting each time Liam thrust deeper, claiming her inch by inch. Greedy sounds rippled in her throat, dripped from her open mouth, not making any sense.

For some reason, she landed on Merrick. He smirked, lifting an eyebrow, and with the power of a man who knew exactly what his worth was, stared right back at her without blinking.

“What do you see, minx?” Liam demanded, releasing her chin to dig his fingers into her other hip. Using them as a lever to push and pull her onto his cock while he pounded into her with the hunger of a man taking what was his.

“Green!” she yelped.

“Not the color,” he ground out. “What do you see? ”

God, she didn’t want to look any deeper than she already was, but what choice did she have? Her body was no longer hers, the bindings lashing her to Liam. The only movement she had left was her hands, and they were locked up in predicament bondage. She paid for each wiggle of her wrists with a burst of pleasure in her clit.

So she stared at Merrick, casting aside years of purposefully avoiding meaningful eye contact, and studied the dark green irises mottled with a lighter shade, going beyond color to the emotion.

Hating what she saw, she blurted it out anyway, wanting to get it out of the way so she didn’t have to remind herself she was undeserving of it. “Arousal. Concern. Pride.” She let her gaze slide down to his crotch and swallowed. “Jealousy. He wants to be where you are.”

Merrick nodded once, fisting his impossibly monstrous erection until the thick, flared crown turned purple. “Damn straight I do, honey. I don’t pick my subs on their looks—sometimes the real pretty ones are venomous vipers. It’s the subs like you—loyal to a fault, capable of love without limits, radiating honesty and innocence—who make a Dom want to fall on his knees.”

She shook her head, clamping down on Liam when her braid yanked against the collar, nipping her scalp with pain. Her Dom stepped back, taking her with him, changing the angle of his thrusts with minimal effort.

He filled her, striking her special spot over and over again until Merrick wavered and vanished in a flurry of sparkling lights. The ropes bit and slid over her skin, pinning her tightly as her body coiled and exploded.

Liam groaned and hammered into her, driving through the spasms of her inner muscles. “Do you want him on his knees, Sierra? Do you want his mouth on your cunt, licking up all these juices bathing my cock? That’s it, milk me, minx. Come again and take me with you.”

A thought flashed through her mind, here and then gone.

They were going to kill her. There was no doubt in her head that by the time each of them wrung an orgasm out of her, she’d die from the sheer pleasure of coming.

She was already flagging, her body drinking in the dopamine, yet the next orgasm was waiting right there . So close, just out of reach, and deadly enough she didn’t want it even as she craved the damn thing.

“Merrick’s next, minx.” Breath heaving from exertion, Liam reached beneath her to fondle her clit. “I’m going to fill you up with so much cum, it’ll rain from your pussy when he shoves that beast into all this tight, wet heat.”

Flesh slapped against flesh, hard and faster than before. He was a machine, a demented one, punishing her for intending to leave him.

Pressure bit into her clit; Liam slammed home.

The waning spasms returned anew, her muscles becoming a vice on his shaft as they rippled around him, sensing his orgasm and luring him closer with one of her own.

Liam went still, a groan ripping through his chest. Cock jerking in rhythmic pulses, he released her clit and unleashed carnage.

It was ridiculous how she barely moved. In her head, she was bucking, screaming, succumbing to the sheer bliss he lavished on her, yet in reality… the harness held her secure, swinging gently from the suspension rigging in time with her stifled movement.

When it was over, she was done. Muscles so limp, she was surprised she didn’t flow through the ropes like water. She might have imagined the press of his lips to the damp skin of her back, but she knew she wasn’t making stuff up in a post-sex haze when he whispered, “Don’t ever think about leaving me that way again, Sierra. Just… don’t, please.”

She whimpered softly when he eased out of her, desperate to reach for him and beg forgiveness. But he stepped away, trailing his fingers over her ribs as he went, and Merrick dropped to his haunches in front of her.

“All right, honey, we’re going to take this real slow. You scared?”

She didn’t want to nod, to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was intimidated by his dick. Mack was about as much as she could handle; Merrick flaunted at least another ten percent big dick energy. “Mmmn.”

He swiped a droplet of sweat off her chin. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to be afraid of me. Being well endowed, I’m an expert in squeezing into tight spaces. I’ve been waiting to see if your Master would share you, honey. I ain’t gonna hurt you now I’ve got the opportunity.”

She blinked as he leaned forward to kiss the gap between her eyebrows, then pushed fluidly to his feet. For a muscular man, he moved very gracefully. Her skin shivered under the light caress of his hand running down her back, bumping over the ropes. The calluses on his palm were thick and ridged, toying with her oversensitive flesh.

“How are your hands feeling, honey? Your feet?” He tested both. “Warm, good. Any tingling, numbness? You’re familiar with the drill by now, but it’s easy to overlook the little signs when you’re tired.”

“I’m okay, sir,” she whispered.

He hummed in response, those calluses teasing her calf when he moved to stand between her thighs. Reverent fingertips feathered over her swollen sex. “I’ll be honest, I’m not usually one to take seconds after another man, but this… honey, this pussy is plump and slick, all hot and bothered after a hard fucking. Beautiful shade of red,” he mused, tracing her hole. “I’m really going to enjoy rutting your Daddy’s cum out of you and giving you mine.”

Her eyes flashed over to Liam. Had he deliberately found Masters who had a diploma in dirty talk? Her pussy squeezed on emptiness, disappointed she wasn’t full again yet.

“If I were your Daddy,” he told her as he lined his crown up with her entrance, “I’d have to fuck you in public every damn day. Torture the other Doms with the sweetest, prettiest fucking sub in the club. I’d parade you in front of them, cum running down your legs, just so they knew what the hell they were missing out on.”

Sierra closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. Her brain wasn’t so fuddled she couldn’t read the buildup—he’d reach the pinnacle, then strike.

“Personality and a smart mind take the win every time, honey,” he murmured for only her ears. “Being dumb and jealous speaks volumes about those who feel threatened by what they don’t understand. Still remember the safeword?”

“Yes, sir,” she croaked.

“Good girl.”

A huge hand clamped down on her shoulder while his arm wrapped around her hip to strap across her belly. Unlike Liam, Merrick wasn’t using the natural motion of the harness and rigging to his advantage; the only thing it was doing was keeping her at the right level while leaving his hands free for other things.

Her tender opening stretched around his crown.

“Ow, ow, ow,” she whimpered. Jesus, no one told her she’d be losing her freaking virginity all over again. Were Eli and Evander pumping steroids into their friends? Some kind of penis enlarging drug? “Help me.”

“Relax, honey.” Rolling his hips, he inched inside her, finally popping in. “There we go. God, I love those little whimpers.” His fingers flexed on her shoulder, warning her. “Wish I could see your pretty eyes right about now.”

Good luck, she thought. They were crossed with a vicious blend of pleasure and pain, her vision blurry and beginning to sparkle. A short determined thrust sank too much of that cock into her channel, expanding her horizons.

Liam’s cum and her own lubrication aided Merrick’s next thrust, letting him surge to the hilt. She made a shocked ah sound when he bottomed out, hitting the end of her and triggering an uncomfortable ache.

“Like a glove,” he muttered, then whatever civility he possessed snapped with a black growl of need. There was no slow, no gentle. He pulled out until the wide crown threatened to leave, then surged back in.

Hard, fast, dirty.

Her eyes rolled back in her head to the brutal slap-slap-slap of his groin against her ass. She couldn’t get the wet, sloppy sounds out of her head—couldn’t believe they were coming from her. It was like a scene in a porn movie, the bound, helpless female being ravaged by an older man, fucked into oblivion.

He drove her ruthlessly, pounding her to the same rhythm as her heartbeat, until she splintered, fractured, and detonated in a shower of glittery pieces.

Still, he didn’t stop. Whatever blackness was in him set the pace. He lifted her slightly, altering the angle, and she combusted again. He rammed her hard, one, twice, and roared in triumph when he spilled inside her.

“Don’t underestimate yourself again,” he told her through heavy pants of breath. Delicately, he removed himself and brushed his knuckles over her beard. “Thank you, Sierra.”

Drool leaked from her open mouth. More of a different kind puddled on the floor. Sweat covered her body, her heart drummed against her ribs.

“Here, pet.” A bottle touched her lips; water kissed her tongue.

She drank slowly despite the need to down the whole thing in one go.

“Do you need to safeword?” Levi asked quietly, bending to study her eyes. “Are you still with us?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

“Liam’s to your left; Mack’s on your right. They’re watching you like a hawk, Sierra, and they’ll pull the plug if you slide away too far. Can you take more or do you want to rest?”

Why rest when the orgasms were flowing as though someone unplugged a dam inside her? There was no shame here because there was no judgement; even though the Masters used dirty talk as effectively as they used her, she still felt respected, which was…

Baffling.

Lovely.

So, so weird.

“Pet.” Levi’s hand made the perfect pillow for her cheek when he cupped it; she tilted into it and let him take the weight of her head. “Hell, Merrick, you’ve totaled her. Liam?”

“Take her down.”

Sierra jerked her head up, smiling beatifically at her Dom. “Nuh-uh. I’m ‘wake, Daddy, promise.”

“Barely, minx.” Gray eyes bore into hers as he crouched beside Levi. “We’re edging into unable to give consent territory. You know I’m strict on consent, Sierra, and you being alert enough to safeword if needed.”

Puckering her lips, she strained her neck forward for a kiss. A giggled bubbled loose when he rolled his eyes and obliged. “Mmm, sugar. Sugar Daddy.”

He chuckled. “Do you want to stop, Sierra?”

She leaned harder into Levi’s palm and sighed. “I’m okay, Liam. I’m just tired, I’m not going to die from ‘gasms.” She wiggled her tongue, hating how fat it felt. “Maybe hurry up, though, ‘kay?”

Fordham snorted. “We’re trying, sweetheart. You keep fading out on us.”

“Oh.” She blinked slowly. “Can you rock me?”

Liam kissed her again before retreating. “You’re good, Levi. I’ll watch her.”

“If you’re sure.” Levi’s thumb swept over her cheek before he stood. “You want gentle, pet?”

Oh, that would be nice. She was achy and sore, her nerves humming pleasantly. She might regret this tomorrow, especially when her tender bits elevated to ouch status, but right now… right now, she was relaxed, high as a freaking kite on dopamine and endorphins, and completely in love with her Doms.

A moan vibrated in her throat as Levi slipped inside her. He wasn’t quite as long or thick as Merrick, filling her without the ow, ow, ow factor. She ignored the copious amount of fluids easing his way—she’d be mortified about that later when she returned to her senses—and just enjoyed the less frantic experience.

When she closed her eyes, she floated along in a very happy place.

She felt herself gather sweetly, tumble apart, and heard the low groan of Levi’s own orgasm. A smile curved her lips when she was taken again, not quite as carefully, and Fordham’s voice trickled through the fluffy mist in her head.

Another, sharper climax rocked her, stealing her breath.

More heat, more wetness, flooding her core.

A mouth claimed hers; she responded weakly, holding on to the last vestiges of her consciousness. She wanted to be awake and aware when Mack took her; it seemed important she was present and in the moment.

“Well, pixie, you’re all tuckered out.” Oh, that voice. Sinfully dark even as it caressed her addled brain. “I’m going to have you now, okay? Chances are, you won’t be awake when I’m done.”

She managed to purse her lips for another kiss.

With a hum of appreciation, Mack fulfilled her silent request, then the harness set into motion. Back, forward, back, forward. The third time she drifted back, his cock speared into her to the hilt.

Babbling noises strained her chest, not quite words.

He fucked her slow and deep, picking up the pace as her pussy adjusted yet again to a different size. Faster, faster, until he hammered into her with precision, lighting up a new erogenous zone that throbbed like her heartbeat.

She splintered, cracked into pieces, and spiraled into oblivion.