Lesson In Honesty (Club Serenity #3)

Chapter Seven .2

Sierra

The padded bench thing was actually quite comfortable once she settled onto the firmly cushioned top. Fucking cold, inciting her nipples into popping out like bullets and turning her skin briefly to ice, but after a minute or two, she felt like it would be easy enough to close her eyes and have a nap, even if her butt was stuck up in the air and her pussy was on full display.

She’d noticed the haybales beneath the padding were securely roped together so that they didn’t fall apart beneath it. It certainly seemed sturdy, persevering against her test wiggles. Not only that, Mack and Master Merrick had thought ahead, improvising a knee rest from a sticking out bale and a blanket to stop the hay from prickling sensitive skin.

It was taking longer for Tabitha to settle. She kept squirming, whimpering under her breath, fighting to keep her obvious discomfort from showing.

“Tabby, relax. Grit’s right here with you.”

Hands digging into the sides of the padding, Tabitha just dropped her forehead to it and wheezed. When Grit’s hands landed lightly on her hips, she went rigid.

The hands on Sierra’s hips weren’t Liam’s, she thought immediately. Instead of possessive, they were tentative, and she realized her Doms had traded places.

Didn’t that give her a thrill? One she’d missed, actually.

Doms , plural.

The next few minutes were strangely relaxing. Watching Grit’s hands slide up and down Tabitha’s back as Sierra felt a matching pair mimic the motion. Up and down, palms pushing smoothly up while fingertips dragged down along her spine.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she melted, becoming one with the padding.

The massage continued over her shoulders, strong fingers kneading into the muscles, her brain swimming with pleasure and the odd pinch of pain as the knots were worked loose. Down her arms to her palms, her fingers, then back to the length of her exposed spine. Her thighs were treated next, her calves, then her feet.

Tabitha’s whimpers died a slow death until soft silence encompassed the room like the world in a snowstorm.

The stroke of fingertips over her pussy jolted her out of the peaceful reverie she floated in. A soft touch, exploratory, trailing around her folds and clit. Teasing her nerve endings and encouraging her body to ready itself.

She heard her breathing hitch as a single digit pressed into her. She had her own bad memories to contend with, the phantom feeling of burning in her core when a cock was shoved into her dry. Her exhaled breath came out on a moan when the finger eased into her without pain, her sex wet enough to allow access.

Tabitha’s moan came a moment later, sweet and relieved.

“Good girl, pixie.” A low hum of praise.

The finger dragged up between her cheeks, circling her neglected rosebud with interest. Circle, circle, dip. Circle, circle, dip. Stimulating the dastardly little nerves that made anal sex feel so fucking good.

Her eyes snapped open when a thick, throaty snarl sounded in front of her.

Hands at the nape of her neck, Tabitha clawed at her own skin. Her arms vibrated as muscles all over her sleek body popped with strain. Cheek to the padding, she stared blankly at nothing, her teeth clenched tightly together.

Mirror scene, Sierra remembered numbly. Whatever Mack did to her, Grit was doing to Tabitha.

Shifting from her comfortable position, she reached out with both hands. The makeshift benches were close enough to touch without stretching too far. “Tabby, look at me. Over here, lovely. Look at me.”

Haunted blue eyes ticked toward her in increments, lost and eerily blank. There was no recognition in them.

“Yellow.” Sierra shot a glance over her shoulder to Mack. “Yellow, Sir.”

Instantly, his hands lifted and he stepped back. Grit was already bending over his sub, stroking her back and talking quietly as the scene paused.

What he couldn’t see was how Tabitha sank deeper with every word, as though each one was a knife to the heart. Was she hearing Grit’s voice or someone else’s? Did she even realize it was his hands on her?

He must’ve picked up on it because he closed his eyes and cursed softly. “We’re done. When she disassociates, she needs to fight. I don’t think this is a fight she wants to win.”

It was one she needed to win, Sierra thought. She remembered the first time Liam touched her, when she’d been afraid because anything pushing between her legs was usually forced in dry. His patience and determination, his absolute resolve that she would be wet before anything penetrated her, was why they were here today.

How many obstacles had she overcome since then? Christ, she’d pegged a man, enjoyed threesomes, become a total anal fiend, and most importantly of all, found a love that survived the worst pain anyone could live through—all because she trusted Liam to guide her over that first hurdle.

She’d be damned if she let Tabitha fall.

Squirming forward to attain an extra couple inches, Sierra snagged her friend’s hands and linked their fingers together, being extra gentle with Tabby’s sore appendage. “Tabitha, snap out of it. You don’t get to hide from this. Trust me, you don’t want to hide from it. Sometimes we need to suffer through what scares us to get to the really good stuff.”

The briefest flicker in the blue.

“I don’t know Mack, not well anyway. I haven’t seen him naked, I have no idea what his cock looks like or how big it is. It might be a teeny-tiny pencil,” she muttered, trying not to offend him, “or y’know, like a donkey dick.”

When he snorted in amused affirmation, her belly twisted. Shit, was that confirmation of the pencil or the donkey? Knowing her luck, he was donkey through and through.

“Grit thinks you need to fight him. Fighting is better than hiding, right?” Squeezing Tabby’s chilled fingers, Sierra lowered her voice. “We can fight together, Tabby. You know we’re in this together anyway, so we might as well make the Doms work for it.”

Another flicker, a slow blink. Tabitha’s tongue flicked over her dry lips.

Offering Mack a silent apology, Sierra kicked out with her left foot, connecting lightly with bare, firm flesh. His thigh, maybe? Shit, was he naked already?

The soft, masculine grunt sparked something in Tabitha’s eyes. The dull expression began to fade, interest kindling and replacing the haunted look with something more like a predator.

“There we go. Fight, Tabitha. Make the bastards pay for taking what they want.” Where the hell were these words coming from? Sierra felt her own fire rising, feeding off the stress and pain she’d been repressing for months. Hell, years . “Kick his ass.”

Liam laughed. “Prepare yourself, Mack. I haven’t seen her like this before.”

Behind Tabitha, Grit was stripping off his clothes in record time. From the rustling sounds behind Sierra, Mack was following suit. Tension shimmered in the air, fueling the unfamiliar sensations coursing under her skin, transferring from Tabitha.

The rage she’d seen in her friend earlier was back. No longer dead and detached, her eyes were alive with the same fire inside Sierra.

Two women, one entity.

Grit pounced on his sub, his hand clamping on her neck a heartbeat before heavy weight covered Sierra’s back. Hot skin against hot skin, a fucking baseball bat pressing against her ass.

That wasn’t a fucking pencil dick, she thought as her eyes widened. Fuck, she wasn’t sure it was even in the donkey-sized range.

Mack’s cock was a motherfucking Mack truck .

Now she had a reason to fight. If he wanted to put that monster in her ass, he was damn well going to earn the privilege. She wasn’t a fighter, not even a little bit—she’d surrendered to Wyatt again and again because confrontation wasn’t how she did things—but she had to admit there was a thrill in making Mack’s goal more difficult.

With a battle cry that sounded more like an angry mouse squished between a rock and a hard place, Sierra gathered her strength and bucked. Her butt simply ground itself against Mack’s erection, wrenching a dark groan from him.

Well, that didn’t work.

Meanwhile, Tabitha was giving Grit one hell of a run for his money.

She was, Sierra noted, all speed and grace, her moves fast and accurate. Teeth bared, eyes fixed in concentration and viciously blue, she used her entire body as a weapon while her Dom tried to defend himself and keep her pinned.

Taking a page from the assassin’s book, Sierra swung her elbow back, catching Mack in the ribs. He grunted, some of his weight easing off her, and she tried bucking again. An uncoordinated kick of her legs caught the inside of his knee.

“Liam?” he snapped.

“Blood is a hard limit. Safeword is red. Other than that, you’re the Dom here.”

In other words, game on .

Sierra kicked again, twisting underneath Mack. She had a mental vision of performing action hero gymnastics, spinning and planting her feet in his chest to shove him back, leaping to stand on the bench and launch herself on top of him before he recovered.

Unfortunately for her, she was not an action hero. She wasn’t even on Tabitha’s level, which was why she failed to remember that while her torso could twist, her hips were well and truly hooked over the raised hump. “Shit.”

“Let me help you, naughty girl.”

Holy hell, that was Mack’s Dom voice? Richly dark, smooth, sinfully beautiful. Her body quivered even as her brain engaged the emergency warning signs—laidback he might be, but he was dangerous in more ways than one.

Flailing, trying not to let her nervous laugh make things worse, Sierra attempted to roll away. The laugh erupted, strangling her as a strong arm snaked beneath her, settling between her breasts, his hand collaring her throat.

“Get your friend to teach you how to fight,” he rasped in her ear. “She’s doing a lot better than you are, little girl.” His other hand arrowed between her legs, testing her with a shallow thrust of his fingers. “Perfect. Hot and wet. This tight little cunt is going to keep my cock warm while we wait for Master Grit to get his sub under control.”

Sexy threat. Dirty talk. Little girl .

Oh boy, that was the trifecta of fuck me signs.

“Not happening!” Determined to win at least one little battle in the war she’d inevitably lose, she tried to bite his forearm. “I’m really not in to sports, Mack. Particularly those that involve any kind of bat.”

He chuckled. “Thanks for stroking my ego, pixie. Liam, condom?”

Ah, Liam would save her. He was only her second lover, so he knew she’d never taken anything bigger than him—and he was substantially gifted in that department.

“You did the requisite health tests?” he asked.

Mack tightened his fingers around her throat gently when she struggled. “Two weeks before I arrived, as requested. All clean.”

“ Liam! ” Sierra protested. “He’s huge .”

“Haven’t heard you scream in a while, minx.” Flashing her a grin, the asshole lifted a shoulder. “Better get used to him, Sierra—you’ve got him for a month.”

Even as her mouth dropped open, she felt the rounded head of Mack’s cock press against her. No, not rounded, she realized as it stretched her open; it was just the tip of a mushroom crown. “Oh, oh, oh no. Mack—”

“Good and wet,” he commented, gripping her hip in one hand and controlling her throat with the other. “What do you think, pixie, can you take all of me in one go?”

Could she hell as like do that! “No, don’t you dar—”

It only took one thrust for her mind to go blank. Her pussy felt like the narrow neck of a wine bottle being stuffed with a cork, the pressure building beneath as the stopper was relentless pushed where it wouldn’t quite fit.

Christ on a crutch, he was thick. Her inner muscles rippled around him, snugger than a glove. Only her own natural lubricant prevented him from getting wedged in there.

Before her cheek thumped to the padding, she got a blurry view of Grit fiercely wrestling Tabitha back down onto the bench, his fingers biting into either side of her neck on the sensitive points that elicited a submissive response.

Exhausted from her own fight, she went limp.

Struggling to draw a breath, Sierra groaned, whimpering as Mack fucked her slowly, lazily, apparently content that she didn’t need any time to process the cock invading her. Corrupting her one inch at a time.

“Are you done fooling around now?” Mack asked Grit, his thumb stroking the side of her throat where her pulse throbbed.

Sweating and flushed, sporting what was going to be a real pretty black eye, Grit wiped his free hand over his mouth. “Remind me to smack you for that comment later. Better yet, I’ll let the little tiger get her claws into you. I forgot how vicious she is when she’s desperate.”

“Have you tamed her or is she gearing up for round two?”

Sierra lifted her head, concerned. Her brains might be scrambled into mush, her eyes going slightly blind as Mack eased deeper into her core, but it was easy to see the love on Grit’s face as he gently soothed his sub with slow strokes of his hand down her back, to hear it in his voice.

“No, she’s done for now. There might be a tussle at first, but she fights to the point of exhaustion for a reason.” He bent and kissed between her shoulder blades. “It makes submission easier for you, doesn’t it, little tiger?”

Tabitha blinked slowly, pushing up onto her forearms. She was panting, sweat sliding down her temples. She met Sierra’s worried gaze with dazed eyes, but instead of the panic and anger they’d held before, now there was the kind of peace Sierra was personally acquainted with, thanks to Liam. “I can go again.”

In answer, Grit applied light pressure to her back with a single hand; she collapsed with a tired groan. “Not tonight, you can’t.” He held out a hand and Liam stepped over, slapping a black bottle of lube onto his palm. “Thanks.”

A second bottle smacked loudly into Mack’s waiting grasp.

“Master Liam,” Sierra croaked.

“Yes, minx?”

“P-Please can I have a word with you in p-private?” Her eyes started to roll back in her head as Mack shifted his hips slightly from side to side.

Attentively, Liam dropped to his haunches beside the makeshift bench. “What can I do for you, Sierra?”

Oh, he was such an asshole at times. A sadistic one to boot. This was nowhere near private and he knew it. Still, he was the only one who could save her ass from destruction, so she had no choice but to be sweet, polite, and sickeningly reasonable.

She swallowed a soft cry, trying to ignore how her pussy was spasming around Mack’s monster in an effort to come. “I like anal, Master Liam. It’s common knowledge. I… oh fuck,” she whispered, arching her back. Coming right now was a bad idea. “It’s been a long time since… you know… anything’s been up there.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I see your point. All right, minx, I’ll sort it out.”

Oh, thank God. See, being respectful and polite was the right way forward, she told herself. It was rare she lost her temper—mainly because she didn’t really have one—and she wasn’t sure she could actually raise her voice to him.

He gave her a long, slow kiss and a wink, then rose and patted Mack on the shoulder. “Open her up slowly, Mack. She’s got a tight little asshole that we haven’t used recently, and I don’t want her damaging.”

Her chin hit the padding. “You mother—”

Mack drove into her hard enough to seat himself fully, his groin slapping hers as he stole her breath and the words that almost fired out like bullets. The noise she made was utterly embarrassing, but he saved her from the spanking of a lifetime. “No problem, Liam. I’ve got it handled.”

Silently, she fumed. Muscles turning to stone bit by bit, she dug her fingers into the sides of the stupid bench and imagined her nails biting into Liam’s smug face. Even when Liam slipped a pillow under her head, a second under Tabitha’s, she wasn’t remotely inclined to forgive him.

She heard the click of one bottle opening, then the other. It seemed the Doms were going back to the original plan of a mirror scene; if it wasn’t an egregious breach of her honor, she’d safeword just to piss him off.

That wouldn’t accomplish anything, she reminded herself. It would ruin everything for Grit and Tabitha; they’d fought to get to this point, and if she backed out now, Tabitha would no doubt follow swiftly on her heels.

Still, she seethed, folding her arms on the pillow and resting her chin on them so she could monitor Tabitha’s reactions while ignoring her own body’s response to the cock moving leisurely inside her.

It wasn’t difficult; she’d had years of practice doing just that with Wyatt.

“Pixie, I hate to tell you this, but if this is how tight your cunt is, your ass is going to cry.” Bending over her, Mack’s mouth skated across her shoulders. “I’m going to lube you up now. There’s no reason to worry, I’ll be gentle with you, okay? Neither Liam nor I want to see you hurt.”

She snorted. “Master Liam is a fricking sadist. He wants to hear me scream.”

The snort attracted Tabitha’s attention. Those blue eyes studied how Sierra was laying on the pillow, and a moment later, she mimicked it.

“Then I’ll have to oblige him, won’t I?” Mack nuzzled her nape, then straightened.

As Grit parted Tabitha’s cheeks, Sierra felt her own buttocks separate. She clenched her teeth, hissing as cold lube dribbled down her crack to coat her poor, soon to be abused asshole. She flinched when a thick fingertip pushed in, aided by the lube, and began stimulating the tight ring of muscles.

Oblige him, huh? Chewing on her lip, Sierra mulled it over. Her Dom really did love to hear her vocalize, well, everything. Pain, pleasure, he got off on it. She supposed it was another form of communication, especially when she was too shy to use her words.

Well, he wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight. Not one more squeak, moan, whimper, or sigh. No matter what.

That resolve was tested immediately, just her luck.

One finger became two. More lube poured between her cheeks as those two digits turned and twisted in her back passage. She felt herself getting wetter, Mack’s cock sliding in and out like a knife through butter.

“Doing good, pixie.”

Refusing to comment, she shifted and held out her hand to Tabitha when her friend yelped. They clasped and clung, Tabitha’s grip ridiculously strong.

“Ready if you are, Mack.” Grit ran a gentle hand over Tabitha’s shoulder.

A long, turbulent second of silence.

“Color, pixie?”

Sierra scowled. “Green, Sir.”

Mack gave her a light pat on the hip and pulled out. The slick crown replaced his fingers an instant later, breaching her impossibly slowly.

A cry waited in the base of her throat, poised to ricochet up her throat and destroy her vow to remain mute, only… she felt a vague pressure, the sensation of stretching, but no burn. No pain.

What the fuck?

Bewildered, she stared at Tabitha who wore the same startled expression.

Okay, that wasn’t natural. In fact, it was downright eerie. On one hand, she fucking loved the burn, that bite of discomfort from being claimed in a very taboo place, while on the other, she was grateful she wasn’t screaming as the fat cock working its way up her ass pushed her limits to the max.

Her head whipped around. “What the hell did you do?”

Concentration creasing his brow, Mack arched an eyebrow. “You want to know now?”

“Damn straight I do! Why can’t I feel anything?”

The bastard had the gall to smirk. “Don’t worry, you will. Numbing lube, pixie. Just around this tight little hole so I don’t traumatize you into hard limiting anal sex in future.”

She spluttered, actually spluttered .

“Liam thought it might help Tabitha; I suggested it might be beneficial for you too. Looks like it’s almost working for her,” he murmured, flicking his eyes over to Tabitha. “Next time, you’ll take me without any niceties, Sierra. You’ll feel every inch of me, start to finish.”

With a grunt, she let her head hang as his cock burrowed deeper, waking up the nerves where the lube hadn’t reached. Yeah, she felt him now, commandeering her insides as though they belonged to him.

Tabitha’s grip on her hand turned brutal, the bones scraping together as she suffered through Grit’s penetration with a curled lip and frantic breaths.

“Easy, little tiger. Slow your breathing.”

“I am going to wait until you are asleep,” she hissed as her head and neck twisted awkwardly. Her hips were trying to hunch but the block beneath them kept her precisely where Grit wanted her. “I’m going to peel your cock like an apple before I cut it off. I fucking hate you.”

All three men stiffened; Sierra noticed Liam covered his crotch with one hand. Grit was speechless, but Mack… Mack stepped into the line of fire without hesitation.

Probably because he didn’t know who Tabitha was or what she was capable of when she was in full murder mode.

“Want to trade, Grit? Sierra’s much more accommodating.”

Tabitha pushed up on her elbows, her eyes turning to slits, only for her Dom to pin her down. Her focus was deadly, her displeasure centering on Mack instead of the real cause.

“Who said I’m not planning something similar for you two?” Sierra demanded, then lost her breath when Mack shunted a hefty portion of his shaft into her passage.

She caught the groan before it gave her away; the shimmers of pain morphed into a bruising ache before it rolled into a tsunami of pleasure tumbling through her guts.

“Done talking,” he informed her darkly.

When he released her neck, she felt strangely bereft. The collar of his hand was warm and reassuring; she wanted it back. He didn’t give it to her. Instead, his hands clamped down her hips, using them as leverage.

The huge erection in her ass slid out until, she presumed, the crown stopped it from popping all the way out. She really did not like being able to feel and gauge her own damn body; that thought fluttered away as Mack surged back in, hauling her back at the same time.

The slap of flesh connecting concealed her gasp of shock, barely.

Do not say a word, she reminded herself. Not a gasp, not a squeak, don’t give them anything. Just ride it out quietly and—oh fuck, that was so good. She was a puppet in his hand, bouncing on his cock in the rhythm dictated by his fingers on her strings, and he was making her dance.

She noticed Grit was being more conservative with his claiming of Tabitha, though that didn’t stop his sub from almost breaking Sierra’s fingers with the strength and desperation with which she clung.

“Want to backchat me some more, pixie?” Mack angled his hips slightly, skewing the next thrust so sparkles erupted behind her eyes. He set the pace, steady and confident, until her body ached.

Her forehead thunked to the padding, her damp skin squeaking on it as her body rocked, pummeled by his thrusts. Mouth open, she imagined his shaft growing thicker, longer, reaching places no man should ever touch.

God, he was wrecking her.

Toes curling, lungs heaving, she tried to croak his name, Liam’s name. All that came out was a series of guttural noises she couldn’t even decipher. Blood thump-thump-thumped in her ears, matching the beat of her heart against her ribs, and not quite masking the high cries of a woman orgasming.

That wasn’t her, was it?

No, definitely not.

“C’mon, pixie, you can’t hold out forever.” Mack gave her a sharp smack on the ass, sending a delightful sting through her flesh. “Be a good girl, Sierra. Show me what this ass feels like when you come all over my cock.”

Oh, not the dirty talk. She was a sucker for bad words crooned in an authoritative tone.

“Let me show you a little trick, Mack.” Liam intervened, stepping over to lay his hand on the sweaty nape of her neck. “Keep up the dirty talk, she loves it. She’s got a filthy streak that runs about as deep as your cock is up her ass.”

Sierra moaned softly, not needing the reminder.

“She loves it rough, especially during anal or double penetration scenes.”

Christ, was he just going to give away all her secrets in one go?

“Orgasming isn’t easy for her sometimes,” her Dom added, lowering his voice as Tabitha came again, crying in hearty sobs. “Pressure on her throat or her nape helps. So does this.”

She stiffened, already knowing what he was about to do. Lifting her head, ignoring the trail of saliva leading from her open mouth to the growing puddle on the bench, she rasped, “Master Liam.”

One. Two. Three .

She shuddered, resistance fading as her skin registered the tap-tap-tap of Liam’s fingertips on her neck. Their signal, the one he used to reassure her everything was okay, she could trust him and whatever he asked of her.

“That’s cheating,” she gasped, the words drawing out into a keening whimper as Mack thrust harder, the rhythm of his hips losing their consistency to become an almost brutal staccato beat.

Tap-tap-tap .

Fingertips on her neck, on her hip.

Goddamn it, she was never going to win. She’d already broken her promise to keep her silence, more than once. She didn’t even know why she hadn’t come already—it wasn’t like she hadn’t come on Mack’s fingers just the night before.

“The dirty girl likes dirty talk, huh? Filthy little anal slut, taking a stranger’s cock like a pro. Never met a woman with an ass as tight as this, pixie.” Mack’s voice dropped to a sinful whisper. “Should we ask your Daddy if he wants to fuck his little girl at the same time? Fill that snug pussy with cock again, stuff you so full we won’t be able to fuck you again for at least a week.”

Heat gathered in her core, tightening her muscles.

“Maybe he wants to try something more… daring,” he crooned, his breath starting to pant between the words. “Bet he’s got a big cock, right? Greedy little thing like you needs something substantial to get you off. Gonna take two of us in this ass, Sierra? Can you stretch this tight asshole—”

That did it. Wicked images filling her head, her body coiling like a spring, voices circling and weaving fantasies… it all became too much.

Pieces of her splintered, falling away. Back arching, she bolted upright, losing her grip on Tabby’s limp hand and slamming into Mack’s chest. A strongly muscled arm banded beneath her breasts, securing her there, and the man with the magic mouth ruined her.

She screamed the way her Daddy liked, raw and unfettered. Clawed at the arm supporting her, digging her nails into Liam’s chest when he leaned forward to steal the sound he loved so much.

Spasms ripped through her, torturing her empty sex, the muscles clenching and releasing on nothing as her ass mimicked the same action around the cock hammering into her.

One. Two. Three .

Another scream, instantly swallowed by Liam, as Mack rammed himself home and heat flooded sensitive tissues. The thick shaft pulsing in time with her body milking everything he had to offer.

Long seconds passed with her suspended there, her mind blown into shards, with Mack’s chest heaving against her back and his breath hot and heavy in her ear.

What the hell just happened?