6. Atticus
ATTICUS
Priceless. This girl is utterly priceless. I feel like we got an undeserved discount for that. I can hardly catch my breath. Can’t think straight. Fuck.
More. I need more.
She happened to collapse next to me after the pileup, her soft gasps stirring my short chest hair. The curve of those panting lips is seduction itself. How the hell did she remain a virgin until now?
Her willpower must be stronger than my own.
I kiss her brow, and those lips spread into a sated smile. “How are you feeling?”
The corners of her lips perk upward as she blushes. “Relaxed.”
“You have a very pretty mouth, Thalassa. Put it to good use.”
She blinks up at me.
“Tell us what you want from us. From this long weekend.”
She takes a moment to consider a response. In that moment, I see a hundred thoughts float in those big hazel eyes. Finally, she settles on, “Well, mostly, I thought this weekend was about what you guys wanted.”
“Cop-out answer,” Colin says from the foot of the bed. He claimed that area to cool down. “Try again, young lady.”
She giggles lightly at that. “I mean, this is all on your dime, so I didn’t think much about any expectations, aside from what we just did.”
Dean slow nods as he traces lines on her arm from the other side of her. “Understandable. But sexually, what else would you be open to trying?”
She shrugs bashfully, as though we aren’t all lying here naked. “I don’t know…you guys mentioned something about kink earlier, and I’m not opposed…actually, I’d like to try…I don’t know?—”
“Let me stop you right there, baby. There’s nothing we haven’t done, and nothing that will offend us?—”
“I have to keep breathing.”
I frown and glance at my brothers. They’re equally baffled. I clear my throat. “Thalassa, we have every intention for you to remain breathing throughout our encounter.”
She shakes her head once. “No, I mean, I know some people are into oxygen deprivation?—”
“Breath play?” Dean asks.
“Right, that,” she continues. “I’m not. Like, at all. Okay?”
“That’s what we call a hard limit,” I explain. “It means we don’t cross that line. I’m glad you told us. Ours overlap—no waste play, no age play, no permanent marks. Beyond that, we’re happy to negotiate.”
“So, if it’s a hard limit, I don’t have to worry about you guys trying to make me do it?”
I kiss the back of her hand, trying to soothe her fears. “Never. We will never make you do anything you don’t want to do, Thalassa. And we don’t forget hard limits either. No breath play. Consider it done.”
She takes another deep breath, and I wonder what happened to her. Breath play isn’t for everyone, but clearly she has some experience in that realm. But now is not the time to dig into past traumas. Now is the time for fun.
“What about restraints?”
Her body goes tense at first, until she thinks about it. “What kind of restraints?”
“I brought a few options with me—I never travel light. Ropes, handcuffs, shackles, spreader bars, hoods, blindfolds, the usual.”
“I…I might be open to some of that.”
“Now isn’t the time to be coy, pet,” Dean says as he kisses her bare shoulder. “What would you like to try?”
She bites her lower lip, her pulse kicking up, evidenced by the breathiness in her voice. “What’s a spreader bar?”
Colin latches his hand around her ankle.
“Typically, a shackle goes around each ankle, and they’re separated by a metal bar.
The contraption keeps your legs spread wide, no matter what you do.
You’d be on display for us, vulnerable, open.
” He slowly widens her legs, until they’re shoulder-width apart.
To my surprise, she doesn’t move them back when he releases his grip. Her breaths come in small puffs. “Oh.”
“We can bind your arms apart or overhead, keeping you from having any physical control over things,” I add. “Such things usually require a bit of trust between parties, so I never assume, but I like to bring them for options. There’s also my sex swing, which facilitates unique mobility.”
“People really use those? I thought that was just in porn.”
I chuckle. “Hardly. Mine is modified with restraints to alleviate any pressure on your joints and any control from your body. Does any of that appeal to you, baby?”
Her feet fidget. Not her hands, not another nervous bite of her bottom lip. Her feet circle each other, big toe drawing circles around the other big toe in turn. I don’t know why, but it’s incredibly endearing.
She finds her voice. “The bar thing. Maybe the hands. I don’t know about the swing—I’m not exactly the most athletic person anymore.”
That anymore sticks out like a sore thumb. But again, now is not the time. Not when we’ve just gotten her to agree to an experiment.
“I’ll be right back.” I stroll from the bed to the closet for my duffel bag of fun.
Dean asks, “You’re not athletic anymore ? You seem plenty athletic to me. Takes a lot to keep up with us.”
Her voice rises an octave. “Used to be. You grow out of hobbies…just changed my mind.”
Don’t dig, don’t dig, don’t dig ? —
“Hopefully this weekend helps you figure out some new hobbies,” he says smoothly.
Thank fuck he didn’t dive deeper than that. Dean isn’t nosy—he merely likes to know where his submissive’s head is at, so he can tailor playtime to their needs.
“What changed your mind from your old hobby?” Colin asks.
The nosy bastard.
“You know how interests change when you get older. Grew out of it.”
Colin, I swear to all that is dark and dirty I will end you if you ruin this weekend by asking questions she doesn’t want to answer.
“I went from comic books to enjoying women in latex, so my hobbies didn’t change all that much,” he teases.
She giggles. “Latex like a superhero?”
“Latex like a dirty slut. Short latex dresses, bodysuits with holes in strategic spots, that kind of thing.”
“Any woman who can get into those things is a hero to me,” she teases back.
As I round the end of the bed, he kisses the inside of her ankle. “I could have something delivered, and you could be your own hero.”
Her laugh fades when she spots the bag in my hands. “A bar that long won’t fit in that thing.”
“I’m happy to surprise you.” I lift it out among the coiled rope and other accoutrements. The bar itself is black, but the shackles shine silver in the low light. “May I?”
Thalassa licks her lips once and decisively nods.
Colin takes my place at her side to give me room to work. It’s not much—a simple fastening of the shackles, and it’s done. Her legs are spread little more than they were before. I smile down at her, but she’s frowning at the bar.
“What’s that supposed to do? It’s not even that much of a hindrance.”
“Ah, yes.” I press the small knob and pull both sides, allowing the bar to telescope out one notch, adding six inches to the spread. She’s feeling more on display, judging by how her chest heaves with her breath. “How’s that?”
“Oh. Um. Okay.”
“Do you want more of a spread?”
“We can try that.” Nervous little thing.
But I appreciate her willingness to try. I telescope it out another notch. Her knees instinctively try to come together and can’t. Two pink stiff nipples vie for my attention, but it’s the way her gaze goes glass that steals the show.
This girl has submissive tendencies. I intend to help her explore them.
“That is…”
“How do you feel, pet?” Dean asks quietly.
Thalassa takes a deep breath and puffs it out. “I’m not sure.”
I smirk. I can’t help it. “I’d like you displayed more.”
She doesn’t—can’t—speak. But again, she nods.
This time, I go for three notches, the full length of the bar. It’s a small one compared to what I’ve used with more experienced subs, but it’s good for travel and for newcomers.
Her very wet pussy glistens in the low light, enticing me to ravish her with my tongue.
I stroke her inner calf, and she shivers.
Dean’s wandering fingers trail along her sternum, her stomach, not touching the fun bits just yet.
Colin murmurs something in her ear while he draws lazy circles around her tits, also not touching them.
A raspy, quiet voice pipes out of Thalassa’s perfectly crooked smile. “What about my hands?”
Good girl.
“Would you like something soft or hard for them?”
“I dunno.”
Dealer’s choice, then. I go for the shiny handcuffs I had made to match those on the bar and toss them to Colin. He latches them onto her wrists, while I pass Dean a length of black rope.
She wonders aloud, “What’s that for?”
“We like to be thorough.” Dean ties it around the joining chain between the handcuffs, then methodically loops that behind the headboard and beneath the bed until he hands me the end.
I tie that to the middle of the spreader bar, and the length of the rope prevents her arms from dropping, keeping them at a forty-five-degree angle, hands near the top of the headboard. She is trussed and trusting. A dangerous combination in the wrong hands.
“Give us a squirm, pet,” Dean says as he climbs back onto the bed.
To her credit, she does. But she doesn’t panic when she realizes she can’t move much. “I guess…I’m at your mercy.”
“What’s your safeword, baby?” I ask. A gentle reminder.
“Giraffe.”
“Good girl.” I climb onto the bed near her open legs. “I’m going to touch you, baby. I’m going to do it until I’m satisfied. And then I might do it some more, just to make you dance for us.”
“Please,” she whispers. Our girl is aching for it.
“That’s right, sweets,” Colin says against her nipple. He’s right there, not taking it in his mouth, but letting her feel his hot breath. “Fucking beg for us.”
I can practically hear her heart beating against her ribs as she says, “Please. I need it.”
“Yes, you do, don’t you,” Colin teases, right before he sucks her nipple into his mouth, and she cries out.
That sound was all we needed.