Chapter 45 Hannah
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
HANNAH
How can being with two men come so naturally to me?
Somehow, I went from watching group scenes at the Scarlet Lounge and feeling certain I couldn’t keep more than one partner happy, to being pressed between a father and son who make me feel like a queen whenever their eyes are on me.
Asher’s hand comes down on my ass again, warmth spreading across the globes in a way that’s both familiar and desperately needed.
It’s not quite painful, but that will come shortly. I spotted the paddle he’s planning on using and can say from experience my ass will be on fire before the night is out.
But the promise of blissful quiet inside my mind, of the knowledge that I can hand my body to these men and they won’t let me fall…
Another crack of his palm drags a groan from my throat, but I keep Rowan’s thumb between my lips, my tongue lapping at the pad.
“Such a bad girl, Hannah,” he says softly, using his free hand to gather my hair and tilt my head how he wants, forcing me to look up into his eyes. “You love to tease us, don’t you? You love to drive us wild with your perfect body.”
I nod slowly, dragging my teeth along his thumb before pressing deep again.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans. “Your slutty little mouth is driving me wild.”
I wince as Asher’s hand comes down on a spot he’s spanked before, but it’s quickly followed by a moan.
My core aches, the deep throb of need only driven higher with every slap of Asher’s skin on mine.
Rowan pulls his thumb free, dragging the damp pad across my bottom lip. He tracks the move, eyes burning with the same need setting me on fire.
“You doing okay, Little Doe?” Asher asks, his hands massaging the heat into my ass.
I lost count at three slaps, but if he’s checking in already, we must be ready to move on to the paddle.
Anticipation sizzles through me, the promise of the bite of leather almost as intoxicating as the punishment itself.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply, my voice breathy.
He drags his hand up the inside of my thigh, and each inch he climbs higher makes it harder to pull in a breath.
“Are you wet, Hannah?” Asher teases the edge of my thong. The lace fabric barely covers my pussy at all, meaning he already knows the answer to that question. He just wants me to say it.
“So wet, Sir,” I whine. “I’m aching.”
“I bet you are.” Rowan brushes his fingers along my cheek. “Your pretty little cunt needs to be filled, doesn’t she?”
“So badly.”
Without warning, Asher presses two fingers to the knuckle, pumping them hard and fast for a few beats before tugging them free and leaving me unsatisfied.
A soft cry tumbles from my lips, his ministrations only making me more desperate for them to fuck me.
The ache is almost to the point of pain, my body begging for more despite knowing I won’t get any relief until after my punishment.
A punishment I need.
A punishment I’m desperate for.
A punishment I asked for.
“Such a greedy girl,” Rowan tuts, tapping his fingers against my cheek. “But you have to wait. Bad girls don’t get to come until after they’ve received their punishment. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yes, Sir,” I sigh.
A smirk tugs at his lips. “There’s my brat.”
“I’m not a brat.” I frown.
“Oh, you absolutely are, Hannah. But you want to know something?” He pauses and waits for my answering nod before leaning down until his lips are a whisper from the shell of my ear. “I fucking love you bratty, because it means I get to fuck it out of you.”
My lips part on a silent moan. I wouldn’t have ever considered myself a brat before, but maybe it’s just because they make me feel so comfortable, like I can be any version of myself, and they’ll love me right through it.
So maybe I have always been bratty, and I was just too scared to show that part of myself.
But hasn’t that been my whole life up to this point? I’ve always been afraid of others’ perceptions of me. It’s hard not to be when you’re constantly reminded of your shortcomings.
Except with Asher and Rowan. From the first time I met each of them, a part of me I didn’t know existed recognized them as safe.
“You ready for the rest of your punishment, Little Doe?”
I tilt my head slightly and catch the sight of Asher behind me, his tattooed torso on display while his hands move over my sensitive flesh.
God, he’s so fucking hot. It’s insane to me that he chooses to be with someone like me. That he centered the last few years of his life on making me theirs.
Perhaps that’s the part of all this that has been the hardest for me to swallow. The fact that someone like them would go to such lengths to prepare their lives to fit me, rather than expecting me to fit within what already existed.
“Yes, Sir,” I murmur, meeting his eyes for a moment before allowing my head to rest on Rowan’s thigh once again.
I’ve had a lot of spankings, but this is by far the best position I’ve ever been in. Safe and loved between the two of them, with constant comfort among the pain.
Rowan runs his fingers through my hair, and I can’t help but relax further into him despite what’s coming.
The first slap of leather across my ass stings, but it doesn’t really hurt.
No, the pain doesn’t come until the fourth hit when the paddle touches the same place the first hit did.
I cry out as the leather comes down across my ass again, tears gathering at the corners of my eyes. The pent-up emotion in my chest begins to loosen, and with each bite of pain, I come closer to letting it go, to releasing everything that’s been building since our first night together in the club.
My life has changed so much in such a short period of time, and tonight I was in danger. Real fucking danger. Not the perceived kind, like going to a nightclub alone or walking down a quiet street at night. But the real kind. The kind that could have killed me.
A stray tear rolls down my cheek somewhere around number eleven, and Rowan brushes it away, his gaze locked on my face, watching and waiting for me to fracture.
“You’re okay, Han,” he murmurs as he wipes away the second and third tears that fall. “You’re safe. You can let go. We’ll always catch you.”
Those words, words I’ve longed to hear my whole life, are all it takes for me to fall apart.
A rough sob tears through my chest as the world falls away, and all that’s left are the two men holding me together and the blissful release of emotion.
Asher delivers the final few swats while Rowan cradles my cheek in his hand, brushing away tears as they fall.
The paddle hits the carpet beside me, and before I can take my next breath, I’m gathered against Rowan’s chest with Asher at my back, both of them careful not to brush over my tender ass.
And for the first time in my life, I know with absolute certainty that I’ve found my place in the world.