Guilty Pleasure’s Gentlemen’s Club
“Where are you taking me?” I ask as Connor and Russell maneuver me between them. The silk mask around my eyes turns everything black. I totter along in the red heels with my silk dress, not knowing where I am going. My heart beats hard in my chest with excitement.
“You’ll find out in a minute,” Connor says. A moment later, a firm hand wraps around my waist, bringing me to a stop.
“It stinks,” I mutter as they remove the obstruction from my eyes, leaving me staring at the rear entrance to Guilty Pleasures. I spin round to gape at the pair of them; my face must be hilarious as they both press their lips together to hide their laughter. “Here, you brought me here?”
“This place is the start of our story. It was here you looked after our sister. It was here that brought you to us,” Russell says, his voice soft as if speaking to a terrified child.
“Come.” He takes my hand and starts climbing the rickety old stairs.
I glare at his suited back. Connor follows behind.
“I feel you staring at my ass,” I hiss over my shoulder. He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “You’re both in trouble.”
“That makes a change, it’s normally you in trouble, Trouble,” Russell mutters over his shoulder.
Upon reaching the top, I see that the door is already open. We step through, and the sound of romantic music surprises me. Russell leads us toward the notes, pushing open a door at the source. I immediately recognize the space as one of the private rooms available.
In the center of the room is a table laid for three with perfectly polished silverware. A wine bottle sits in a cooler in the middle. My boys lead me across; Connor pulls out my chair while Russell supports me as I lower myself down.
At my place setting is a small white card with the words “Our Girl” written in thick black calligraphy across the front. I pick it up and gaze at it, my head wanting to know what’s inside while my heart is terrified to look. The boys take their seats, and two sets of dark eyes land on me.
“Before you open it,” Russell begins, and my heart falls. This is it. This is when they make me choose. Tonight is the final time I’ll be with both of them. My heart beats hard in my chest as my nerves rise. “There’s something we both want to talk to you about.”
“What is it?” I ask, my voice barely audible.
“We want to thank you,” Connor says. “Both of us. For making the decision to pull the trigger.”
I blink at him, stunned by the reference to me killing their father.
It’s barely been mentioned. I took that as them not wanting to discuss my actions.
“Neither of us would have been able to do it. As much as we hate him, and as much as he hurt us, I know I could never have taken his life.”
“Are you angry with me?” I look between them, searching both their faces for clues of their true feelings. They both maintain that professional look I’ve seen them use dozens of times now when trying to appear impassive.
“I was in the beginning,” Connor tells me honestly. “The decision for revenge was taken out of our hands. I’m used to being in control.” His eyes drop away, his hands on the table, fingers twisting nervously.
“And now?” I prompt and his face lifts, intense eyes meeting mine.
“I am indebted to you for loving me, loving us all enough to remove our deadliest enemy. You making that decision was the greatest gift you could give us.”
“Trouble,” Russell says, reaching over and touching my elbow. My attention moving to him. “You protected us. You’re the heroine in our story. We love you.”
We all fall silent, both sets of stunning eyes of the men I love with all my heart watching my face.
Looking at them, I promise myself that whatever happens, I will cherish every memory we’ve created.
This is love, pure and simple. Not sensible, not understandable, and doesn’t fit snuggly in a box, but it’s love all the same and no less real.
“Open it now,” Connor encourages, gesturing to the card.
Russell, however, sits back, his gaze focused on my face.
My body heats from the unexpected conversation and tension within minutes of arriving at the last place I ever expected to return to.
“Open it,” he says again. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
I peel the flap and remove a small white card from its resting place. My eyes pop wide when I read the inscription.
We’ve decided, but we have conditions…
I flip it over but the other side is blank.
“What have you decided? What conditions?” I stammer.
Russell reaches forward, taking my hand closest to him, Connor repeats the movement with my other. A waitress appears and places our first course on the table, then fills each of our glasses with white wine. We sit silently until she leaves.
“You don’t have to choose,” Connor tells me softly. “After everything…” His emotion breaks, and he presses his lips together attempting to contain what sounds like a small sob.
“But you said you could never learn to share long-term.”
He gives me a reassuring smile. “Being threatened with having your organs removed kind of makes you reevaluate what’s important in life.”
His hand lifts to my cheek. “I told you from the beginning I would do anything to keep you. I almost lost you through death; I am damn sure I won’t lose you through my own pigheaded stupidity.”
“And you're okay with this?” I ask, turning to Russell.
“Sure. I kind of like the idea of having days off. You like to work a man hard, Trouble.” We all laugh, and the mood lightens. My men are offering me everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m getting my dream: both of them.
“What are your conditions then?” My eyes move between them, looking for the last piece of the puzzle.
“There’s only one,” Connor says, his cheeks flushing soft red. “And it’s mine.”
“And it is a perfectly reasonable one. For this to work, we need to be open when things don’t,” Russell says supportively. “But if you ever change your mind…” Connor glares at him in jest, then smiles. “What the fuck have you done with my arsehole brother?”
“He fell in love, grew up, and realized sometimes we have to compromise to be happy,” Russell replies, straightening a fraction in his seat.
His expression turns serious, every word from his lips chosen with care.
“If I have to share the woman I love, there’s no other man I would trust with her heart more than you.”
“Stop it,” I squeal. “You’re going to make me cry. That will ruin my makeup, and no doubt splatter my dress.” They both chuckle. My curiosity needing to know what the stipulation could be, I ask, “What is your condition?”
“No penetrative group sex,” Connor says quietly. “If we’re both there, I want it to be all about you. Some parts of a relationship need to be private, and this is one of them for me. And if you want to get married in the future, you marry me.”
“That’s two stipulations,” I tease with a glance at Russell who nods in approval.
“Okay, I have two stipulations,” Connor admits. “But Sam, I want to one day call you my legal wife. When the time is right.”
“Deal.” I squeeze his knuckles, and he relaxes under my touch. “Deal, deal, deal. I want you for so much more than that. Both of you.”
“Excellent,” Russell shouts jovially, then lifts his glass in the air; we all do the same before clinking them together. “To us.” His focus falls on my lips, and he cocks his head to one side. “Eat up, Trouble,” he says, sexily. “You’ll need your energy for what we have planned next.”
Our meal eventually comes to end; the three of us cleared every delicious morsel.
Connor stands then moves behind me, and familiar dark silk falls over my eyes.
Strong hands take mine, encouraging me to stand.
I step away from the table and am lead across the room and through another door.
We stop in what I think is the center of a new space, but I can’t be sure.
I don’t even know whose hands I’m holding.
“Do you trust us?” Connor asks.
“Always.”
“Lift your hands.” The red dress is lifted from my body in one slick movement.
Someone takes my right wrist and wraps something soft around it, then repeats the process with my other wrist and each ankle.
They secure each binding to something behind me, so I’m left splayed with my arms and legs wide.
The mask is removed from my face, and when I blink my eyes open I’m left staring at myself in the mirror.
Connor and Russell have removed their shirts, socks, and shoes. Both of them walk in a circle around me, hungry eyes devouring my body, which is spreadeagled for them attached to a metal frame in the middle of the room. My red lace underwear shimmers in the dim light, interwoven with silver thread.
“Oh, you look fucking good like that, Trouble,” Russell growls.
It’s then I notice what looks like a riding crop in his hand.
He snaps the dark object against his palm, and my pussy clenches.
“Do you remember when you used to call us the good brother and the bad brother?”
I nod, and he smiles darkly. “Tonight, we’ll be putting those personas to good use.”
Connor walks up in front of me; he stands millimeters away, not touching my skin.
“I love you restrained,” he whispers. “Is that pretty little mind of yours thinking of all the possibilities? And all you can do is take it. Feel every last touch, every hint of pleasure. We won’t let you go until we’re sure you are fully satisfied.”
I strain against my bindings desperate for contact.
Focused on him, I don’t notice Russell behind me.
The stick bites hard across my ass cheeks as Connor's lips lock with mine.
He kisses me deeply as his brother lays another blow to my flesh.
My body buzzes hard, caught between two men, one inflicting sharp delicious stings while the other soothes me with a kiss.
Connor’s hand lifts to my shoulder, and he runs the back of his fingers slowly over my chest to between my legs. There is the undeniable buzz of a vibrator as the crop comes down again. I can’t see Russell, but I can sense him behind me, watching me react to both the pleasure and pain.
I’ve only just recovered from the sting when Connor touches my clit with the vibrator through my panties.
My bar vibrates madly under the toy, and my legs try to snap closed, but they are held wide.
He chuckles, then drops a kiss on my top of one breast before slipping a finger between the string at my waist and my skin. He pulls hard and my panties snap free.
Neither of them speak—the time for words is done. We’ve worked through all the complications of our relationship, and this is their solution. Pleasure me together, but enjoy privacy apart. I can live with that. I will love every damn moment I get with them.
Connor places the buzzing object once again between my legs.
It sucks on my clit relentlessly as my orgasm builds.
Russell’s blow comes down again, but it only heightens the sensation.
My stomach twisting in knots, not knowing what they plan to do next.
Connor’s eyes lock with mine as he gives me no chance of relief.
He takes my lips again, increasing the speed of my pleasure with a click.
Every nerve in my body stands to attention, ready for him.
Ready for them. My body wants to give them what they want: my pleasure.
“Please,” I whisper against his lips.
“Please what?” he replies as Russell’s hand wraps around my waist from behind, his strong body at my back.
“What’s our girl begging for, brother?” Russell asks, his hand sliding down my stomach. His thick fingers stop just above the vibrator that’s still working my sweet spot. The walls of my pussy clench again, this time harder. I’m at that insufferable point of needing relief, but not quite there.
“I need to…” A moan escapes my lips as another surge takes hold of my body.
“Look at those tits,” Russell says, ignoring my need.
His hand retreats back up my stomach. It pauses on my breastbone, then his other fingers take hold of my hair and pull my head backward.
He drops a kiss on my neck softly, then I feel his teeth sink into my skin.
He sucks hard, and I know that will bruise in the morning.
“Marking my territory, Trouble. When you look in the mirror later, you’ll see where I’ve been and think of me.”
Just then, my body releases, and I let go.
My orgasm runs down my legs as I see fucking stars, my stomach clenching harder than ever.
I sag in the bindings, but my men hold me up tall.
Connor gives me no time to recover, placing the vibrator on my clit again.
His hand trails up the inside of my thigh, then he lifts his finger to his lips and sucks each one clean of my arousal.
“That’s a good girl,” Russell praises. “Let us see those sweet juices puddle on the floor.”
“Our girl has a lot more where that came from,” Connor tells him
“Our girl won’t be able to walk tomorrow. I think it’s time for stage two.” Russell releases me; I hear the padded footsteps of bare feet retreat, then return moments later. Connor maintains contact with my clit, and my orgasm builds again. My overstimulated knees buckle as the sensation heightens.
“Hold it,” Connor growls, his good brother persona slipping. “Feel every fucking nerve in your body, but don’t you dare come until I tell you.”
“It’s so strong,” I pant, my voice cracking as I will my body to obey. It doesn’t. My orgasm flows from me again as a big hand lands on my stomach.
“Naughty girl, Trouble. My brother told you to hold it.”
I feel the sensation of cool wet metal between my ass cheeks.
“If our girl can’t do as she is told, we’ll fill her fucking full.”
The butt plug slides in smoothly while my pussy vibrates, searching for cock to hold on to.
I sense Russell passing something to Connor by my side.
The vibrator is removed, and it falls to the floor with a bang.
“I was enjoying that,” I mutter as Russell’s finger replaces it from behind.
“Slide it inside,” Russell says, and Connor lifts a large dildo into view. My eyes pop wide. It’s fucking huge. “You can take it, and we want to watch.”
“Just because I requested no group penetration doesn’t mean we don’t want to appreciate what that pussy of yours can do.”
Connor places the tip at my entrance, sliding the cock in slowly.
My walls clamp around it, desperate for attention.
He moves it slowly. Russell’s hand slides down my leg as he crouches.
“So fucking beautiful, Trouble,” he says. “That pussy of yours is pure perfection. She sucks it in so damn well.”
Connor keeps the dildo moving; without warning, it starts to vibrate.
“Oh, fucking hell,” I wail and he laughs, then leans in, one hand holding the bar above my head. He kisses my lips gently, and his dark eyes close then reopen.
“You wanted both of us. You got both of us,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Now, Trouble, do you think you can handle us?”
Fuck, that’s hot. Connor called me Trouble.
they are both calling me Trouble. “Answer me. Do you think you can handle us?”
Another kiss hits, this time deeper, demanding I respond.
“Yes,” I pant out. “Yes, I can handle you both.”
“Or you’ll die of orgasm from trying,” he tells me, and the whip bites my skin once more. I smile to myself. Sure as hell, the pair of them are mine.
The winner of the man lottery – me.