Chapter Nine
Adrienne always thought she was old for her years but now she thought maybe she was too young to die.
She stopped breathing for a moment, then lowered her hand to the doorknob.
“You take one step out of this cabin, and I’m going to take my belt to your ass.”
Of all the things Emerson could say, he chose the most antiquated of them all.
A spanking.
She wasn’t five years old, so she wished him good luck with even trying a squeak of a spank on her ass. He didn’t scare her. But her heart did start frantically fluttering around her chest.
What was she saying? She should be scared. She didn’t know who these men were. She had to leave. She laid her hand on the handle.
“Do it, pretty lady. My specialty is orgasm deprivation as punishment,”
Austin said.
“But I’m tempted to take my belt to your ass as well if you don’t step away from the door.”
She couldn’t believe those words had come out of Austin’s mouth.
What?
Spanking? Orgasm deprivation?
Who were these men? She knew that answer. They were her enemies.
There was just no way she could continue being there for so many other reasons, besides the fact that they could be working for Desmond. She’d rather face a deadly storm and possible hypothermia but at least she’d die peacefully in her car, on her own, but that was better than having her body betray her so incredibly blatantly, she couldn’t function properly around them, even knowing what she knew about them, or rather what she didn’t know about them.
Her panties were already wet, just by the sight and sound of them, and she wished they weren’t. She liked to remain clean and fresh, and these men dictated the direct freaking opposite of that.
She turned the knob just a fraction.
“If that door opens, I’m going to ransack your cabin looking for something I can use to punish your sweet asshole with, Adrienne. By that, I mean I’m going to improvise a butt plug and stretch your asshole with it while Emerson spanks your ass, and Austin is going to drive you over the edge with his mouth on your pussy, then pull away just when you want to come.”
For one moment, her stupid brain visualized everything they said they were going to do to her. A swell of heat obliterated her common sense, and she had to fight through the flames of arousal they doused her in to get her head straight.
Those were exactly the reasons she had to leave. Because she’s lost her head over them where she was probably just collateral damage or a job for their boss, Desmond Morton.
Trembling, her fingers suddenly ice cold as if her body had already started to prepare for the snowstorm outside, she turned the knob.
Adrienne felt as if her breath had been left on the floor. Her head was spinning at how easily they moved with the speed of light, and her brain struggled to comprehend exactly what was happening.
With their signature agility and fascinating synchronization, they’d divested her of her sweater and skirt despite her outraged protests, and now she stood in a red bra, matching G-string, black sheer pantyhose, and knee-high boots.
“Fuck my soul,”
Darien rasped huskily as they all three stood back and looked at her, their eyes darkening as their erections thickened and strained against their jeans.
Dear god. She shouldn’t have looked at their cocks. It was a bad move, and now her body cried out for their touch again, remembering what each of them had felt like buried deep inside her. She was so aroused she could smell the essence dripping from her pussy and soaking her panties.
They had to stop having that effect on her. She didn’t like it.
More to the point, she had to stop reacting to them. Period.
What happened to Ms. Neat Freak? Oh, she knew. They had taken her and turned her into some love-sick bimbo who literally drooled at the sight of them.
No, but that wasn’t her. She was smart, sophisticated, and mature. She knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t them. She didn’t know who they were. But she did know they were just too much for her body to handle, and no, she wasn’t up for the challenge at all.
“Have you lost your collective minds? You can’t just throw me around and strip off my clothes just because you’re bigger than me and outnumber me. Idiots,”
she murmured under her breath as she bent to retrieve her skirt while their attention remained glued on her as if they owned her.
They stared as if they’d never seen a grown woman in red underwear, black pantyhose, and boots before. Maybe they hadn’t.
“Drop the skirt,”
Darien ordered her.
She swallowed, dropping the skirt to the floor. She had to bargain with them.
“Look. I know you’re not the bodyguards Peter sent. They had a small accident because of the bad weather. I don’t even think you’re bodyguards or SEALs. You may be killers. I don’t know who you are, but if you’re working for Desmond Morton—”
“You think we’re working for Morton?”
Emerson asked a little too low and dark for her before he grabbed her around the waist and brought her to sit on his lap, her back facing his chest, her butt nestled on his cock.
“I won’t go down without a fight,”
she said, fighting for dear life.
“You can tell your boss; I will die hating him—”
“He’s not our boss, sweetheart. We don’t work for anyone,”
Emerson said, holding her effortlessly in place while she worked up a workout level of perspiration, trying to get herself released from his hold.
“But every time you move, you make me harder, sweetheart,”
he added hoarsely in her ear. He wasn’t lying. The rock-hard thickness of his cock boldly probed her ass and silenced her demands to be freed while limiting her movements considerably. She didn’t care that she was making him harder. She cared that she was getting wetter.
Darien and Austin kneeled in front of her. They each took a leg in hand and removed her boots.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because you belong to us, Adrienne Palmer. We are ex-SEALs and no one on this planet can protect you the way we can. Not anyone that Walkman sends your way either. Do you understand?”
Darien said.
“You’re lying. I don’t believe you. I don’t believe anything you’re saying.”
“No?”
Austin queried. She only then noticed the equipment that lined the small desk in the living room. They’d brought it with them, together with all those groceries.
Austin picked up a solid black phone. He connected to a number easily, where she had no signal whatsoever.
“Walkman? Listen,”
Austin said and rattled off a long number then placed the phone beside her on the armrest of the chair.
“Much as we would love to keep you in your pretty pantyhose, we need you naked. Completely naked,”
Darien murmured. What was going on?
Emerson lifted her up, and Darien and Austin tucked their fingers into the waistband of the hose and slowly, sensually rolled it down her thighs, kissing the skin they exposed.
“It’s like running our tongues down warm silk,”
Austin said gruffly against her thigh.
No matter how rigid she tried to remain, it was a battle she wasn’t going to win. Emerson pressed his lips against the area just below her ear. She shuddered as his tongue flicked at her manically beating pulse.
She didn’t want to breathe. Didn’t want to feel anything. After what seemed like an eternity, Peter Walkman’s voice buzzed from the device.
“Adrienne? Are you there?”
“Peter?”
she said, her voice strained as she struggled to keep her head intact. Darien and Austin started to roll the pantyhose off her feet, then holding a foot each, they ran their fingers over her instep, then around her arches, before they lowered their heads and kissed her toes.
Oh god. She tried to escape them, but Emerson held her firmly in place, his fingers slipping into the band of her panties, incinerating her brain cells one at a time.
“Peter?”
she said desperately now as if he could save her from their touch.
“Adrienne, the men you’re with... they’re the best. Fucking hell. They belong to a top-secret government unit. SEALs don’t come better than them. I don’t know how you did it, but they’re the fucking best and I can tell you now, there is no way Morton will get his hands on you now. Ah, fuck, Adrienne. Just do as they say, and you’ll be fine. Thank god,”
Peter said more in awe than anything else.
“What?”
She whispered, but Emerson disconnected the call and drew her back to him, only for her to feel his thickness more pronounced against her now.
Peter’s words rang in her head. She didn’t do anything. She didn’t even know them.
“Why?”
she asked softly.
“Because you belong to us, Adrienne and no fucking man on this planet will touch even a strand of hair on your head.”
Darien and Austin did the same to her panties, peeling the flimsy designer piece off her and then inhaling her scent before taking turns to lick at the wetness saturating the gusset of her underwear.
“Fuck, her taste. I want to bottle it,”
Darien growled.
Emerson slipped a finger between her legs, which they kept parted, and dipped into the pool of wetness at her entrance. He lapped at the glistening dampness on his finger, grunting and making his cock twitch behind her.
She blushed a vivid hot red. And worse, she could smell herself. Unmasked arousal mixed with ylang-ylang, vanilla, and patchouli.
She wasn’t sure if she’d stepped into another dimension or what, but coherent thinking deserted her, and she splintered apart under their touch.
Why?
Because she belonged to them?
But how?
When Darien rose and disappeared into the kitchen area, a flood of panic assailed her as their lascivious threats from before exploded in her head. But, oh, they were good. They lulled her with their sexy touches, delaying her reaction to what they were going to do next.
Austin picked her up from Emerson’s lap, and with expertise—she didn’t want to know how many women he had practiced it on—he unhooked her bra as he carried her to a thick leather bench. He placed her on her hands and knees and threw her bra onto a chair.
“Okay. You had your fun—”
she said, immediately trying to climb off the bench. She needed a minute to sort through her thoughts.
“We gave you fair warning, pretty lady,”
Austin said, smiling, and then just put her back in place.
“And we also explicitly explained what would happen if you tried to open the door.”
Behind her, Emerson, with her pantyhose in hand, proceeded to bind her ankles to the legs of the bench.
“Wait, you can’t—”
She rose to her knees and tried to yank herself free. But Emerson was too fast and too skilled, and within the blink of an eye, he had bound her inescapably to the bench by her ankles.
Whatever admonishments she had in mind on why they couldn’t be doing this to her were swallowed in Austin’s mouth when he straddled the bench, cupped her face, and kissed her wetly, dirtily. He twirled his tongue around hers, sweeping over every wet part of her mouth while he pulled on both her nipples.
She squealed in delicious agony. Her clit was already pulsing as if she were going to come. And then he discarded her, leaving her gasping for air, wide-eyed and near furious.
In answer, he winked at her.
She wanted to bite him. Hard.
But her attention was soon drawn toward Darien coming toward her. Her mouth dried. Her nerves buzzed in apprehension, yet the sizzle in her body ignited into full-on flames.
Smooth and casual, Darien, with a hand of ginger he had snagged from the fridge and a paring knife, sat down at a table and proceeded to skin the root, then shaped it into a butt plug, leaving enough at the end for a base.
What in the Miriam Haddock were they going to do to her? Because this was right up her friend’s alley.
“No,”
she said, shaking her head. If they thought for a minute, they were going to put that up her butt, they had no idea who they were messing with—
Emerson came to stand in front of her. Austin swiveled around on the bench, facing away from her. He then lowered his head, and she tried to scoot back, except she was bound to the damn bench. Gripping her hips, he forcefully tilted her forward so that she fell onto the palms of her hands on either side of him.
Air choked in her throat as Austin opened his mouth on her pussy, sucking on her at once, throwing her into the throes of lust without care. Her eyes widened as Emerson whipped his belt through the loops of his jeans and then cracked the leather in the air.
Wildly, she followed Darien as he inspected his handiwork on the ginger root before he slipped in behind her. Her protests were obliterated as Austin sank his teeth into her engorged clit, eliciting a tortured purr from her lips that seemed to come directly from her soul.
Darien’s breath whispered over her butt before he bit into a chunk of her flesh, and she continued mewling. When he lifted her ass cheeks and spat against the ringed tightness of her hole, her body was ready to splinter apart in the most violent way imaginable. But Austin, and his orgasm-deprivation designation, deserted her pussy by just turning his mouth away from her. He extinguished all her heat and left her cold and empty.
The thought of just grinding her pussy into his face became a need she had to fulfill immediately, but his words stopped her.
“There’ll be time for that later, pretty lady, where I’ll let you sit on my face and fuck it until you can’t come anymore,”
Austin said softly.
Embarrassed that he read her mind, she stiffened her body, raised her chin, and said, “In your dreams.”
The fact that they all chuckled at her response made her blush harder.
Darien rubbed at her asshole. No man had ever touched her there—why would she even think that if she’d been a virgin not even a few days ago? It was completely off-limits though, surely, no questions asked, and yet...
“Remember your safe word, pretty lady?”
Darien said softly, distractedly, as he probed her now with the torturous rhizome, teasing her gently, but already she could feel her heat mix with the juices of the ginger to create the beginnings of a scorching burn.
And Emerson hadn’t even touched her yet.