Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
HANNAH
Ireach for the bottle of champagne and refill my empty glass. I’ve never been one to reach for alcohol to ease my anxiety, but right now feels like an okay time to make an exception.
It’s not every day you agree to let your boyfriend share you with his friend that you’ve never met.
What the fuck was I thinking?
I’m not a stranger to the idea of sharing.
Hell, I see it most times I visit the club, and the owners, Elias and Wyatt, share their now-wife, Leighton.
I just never thought I would find myself in that kind of situation.
Trusting has never come easy for me, and the idea of putting my trust in the hands of more than one person makes my palms sweat.
Asher presses a gentle kiss to my cheek, the move so at odds with the persona he shows the rest of the world.
That’s probably the thing that has surprised me the most in the months we’ve spent together—how soft he can be despite his reputation.
“There’s no need to be nervous, babe. You know I’d never let anything happen to you that you didn’t want or wouldn’t enjoy. ”
I nod because I do know that. He’s given me no reason not to trust him, and I’m certain he wouldn’t let his friend touch me if he didn’t think they would respect me the same way he does.
“Tell me what makes you nervous,” he murmurs, his hand traveling up my thigh toward my aching heat. There’s something about the anxiety that’s making me needy for his touch, and as if he can tell I need him, he slips his fingers beneath the hem, trailing them higher until he meets my bare pussy.
He groans, and the sound sends shivers down my spine. “What have I told you about leaving your pussy bare?”
I open my mouth to respond, but he shakes his head, a dark curl falling across his forehead with the movement and cutting me off before I can get a word out.
“I think my girl needs to be punished. What do you think?”
A soft moan escapes my throat at his words because his punishments have quickly become part of my addiction to the man himself.
He chuckles and runs his fingers through my aching heat, spreading my wetness across my folds. “Always so wet for me.”
I nod and lean my head against his shoulder. I drag my bottom lip between my teeth to trap my moans from escaping and allow his touch to drive me wild.
Every pass over my clit has me tensing against him, but he doesn’t linger for more than a second before he continues teasing me.
I’m so distracted by his touch that I don’t notice another body until it slips into the booth on the other side of me.
I look up and meet an icy gaze that takes my breath away. The rest of his face is covered by an intricate black mask, and a few curls peek out over the top of it.
“Hello, Hannah,” he croons, his voice thick and masculine. Without seeing his face, I can’t place how old he is, but if I had to guess from his voice alone, I’d guess he’s in his mid-forties, almost twice my age.
“Hello,” I whisper, not trusting my voice not to break under the weight of my nerves. I’ve been psyching myself up for this for weeks, and now that the moment is here, I can barely drag in a steady breath.
“You look beautiful tonight, sweetheart.” The term of endearment falling from his lips should be a sin in itself, and I’m almost afraid to admit I love the sound of it.
“Thank you.” I reach for my glass and drain the contents, allowing the warm feeling of the bubbles to wash over me. If I ever needed liquid courage, it’s right now.
The men on either side of me chuckle, and I’m startled by how similar the sounds are.
“I can see you got started without me, Asher,” the man comments.
I tried to ask what his name was so I could have something to go off, but Asher told me that I would call him Sir and that was all I needed to know for the moment.
I should have questioned him further, but I was too lost in the idea, in my own insecurities.
“I did. Our girl is feeling anxious, so I thought I would give her a little something to calm her nerves.” Has his voice always sounded so deep?
And why does the idea of being their girl wash over me and leave a warmth I can’t ever remember feeling before?
I never thought this was something I could want, let alone for more than a single night, but now I’m here with both their attentions on me, I’m bombarded with images of the three of us together.
The man rests his warm palm on my thigh and trails it higher, repeating the same path Asher did as if we’re not in the middle of a public place.
People don’t normally play in the bar area at the front of the club, but the whole place is closed to the public tonight, meaning some of the rules can be broken if members so wish.
At the last one of these I came to, one of the Doms bent their sub over a table just like the one we’re sitting at and delivered a spanking that had my thighs pressed together.
When his fingers reach my heat, he chuckles at my bare state, his breath whispering across my bare shoulder. “I thought you didn’t like her not to wear panties in public.”
I glance up at him, my brows tugging together in confusion.
“I don’t,” Asher growls, the sound forcing my legs together of their own accord. There’s something about his primal side that makes me ache for him, where, with other Doms, it has frightened me.
“Ah, so you’ve been a bad girl, Hannah.” The stranger drops his face until his eyes are locked with mine. “I guess we’re going to have to punish you, aren’t we, sweetheart?”
If I thought the sound of punishment coming from Asher made my heart speed up and my pussy ache, the thought of both of them doing so makes it damn right hard to breathe.