Chapter 3
MADISON
He looks so pleased with himself. And he should be.
Seth Colton is distinguished, commanding, handsome.
So freaking hot. Imposing in his well-tailored suit.
My best friend and maid of honor lost her absolute mind over Seth at my wedding.
He, of course, didn’t even notice her. He thought we were children.
I remember him shouting that at Kyle. “The two of you are eighteen years old. You shouldn’t be getting married!”
Kyle was so pissed. I’d been embarrassed. Humiliated that Seth wouldn’t take us—wouldn’t take our love—seriously.
Seth must not see me as a child now. Because his wolfish, hazel eyes rove over my body in an unmistakably lustful way.
I’m strangely excited. Am I going to fuck him tonight? Why is he being so cold to me, and why does that turn me on?
Too many questions.
Which reminds me, I’m supposed to be answering Seth’s question—what do I think about letting him watch me fuck his friend?
“Y-yes, Sir.” I fumble the words. Calling Seth Sir feels so odd, yet strangely natural at the same time. “I can do that.”
I look over at the friend. Damiano, Seth called him.
He’s tall and muscular like Seth, and carries himself with broad-shouldered confidence.
His suit fits him extremely well. This must be some kind of fever dream, because there’s no way two men who look like them are staring at me like this, like they’ll die if they don’t have me.
And strangely, I don’t feel guilty. I should. I’m about to fuck someone in front of Kyle’s brother.
This room has black walls. Black floors. Black furniture. The color of mourning. What the hell am I doing here?
I used to know—I came here to get freaky, have fun, and earn a little extra cash while doing it.
I like sex. I like being on display, and I love the admiration of strangers.
And I’ve been…touch-starved, since Kyle died.
My two hook-ups this year were complete duds.
I don’t know what I was expecting from a couple of randos.
I hoped they’d know how to find my clit, but I was too optimistic.
Kyle always tried to make me come. Maybe he missed the mark sometimes, but at least he made an attempt.
Five years he’s been gone. I need to stop using him as a measuring stick for all other men. That’s part of the reason I’m here. Kyle wasn’t kinky. I didn’t even know I was kinky. But I’ve been doing some reading. I’ve discovered some things about myself.
And that’s why I’m here. This place is full of other kinky people, and it’s free of Kyle’s memory.
At least, it should be free of Kyle’s memory. But apparently his (very hot, domineering) brother comes here, too.
I fan my face. He bid on me.
“Are you ready, Miss M?” Damiano’s voice is warmer than Seth’s, and there’s a tiny curve to his lips, almost a smile. He removes his suit jacket and sets it on a chair.
“Before you start,” Seth says, “take off your robe. Show us your tits.”
I’m surprised by his crudeness. He and Kyle were close and affectionate, their jokes sometimes bordering on inappropriate, but Seth always seemed to keep a barrier of propriety between him and me.
“We’re waiting, Miss M.” Damiano’s smile gets bigger, like he appreciates my unease.
“Yes, Sir. Sirs. Sorry, Sirs.” I slip the black robe off my shoulders. It falls to the floor in a silky heap.
“Your bra, too.” Damiano’s gaze flicks up to my face, but he—and Seth—look me up and down.
Seth strides forward and holds out a slender chain that matches the one looped around my waist. He slides my hair out of the way and fastens the chain around my neck.
It’s the closest I’ve been to him, ever, in my whole entire life.
His face takes up my field of vision, and he’s so freaking handsome. Like Kyle, but not.
Those eyes, though. Just like Kyle’s.
His voice is gruff. “You belong to us for the next two hours. Everything we say, you do. Your safe word is red, but no or stop will work just as well. Do you understand?”
I nod.
Damiano removes his dress shirt, revealing sculpted muscles and a dusting of dark hair over his chest. He sits on a low bench and unbuttons his pants.
He pulls his erect cock from the fabric of his boxers.
My mouth waters. He’s hard—for me. The power I feel in this moment seems at odds with the situation, but I feel it all the same.
A wrapped condom goes flying past my head, tossed by Seth. Damiano catches it with a grin.
Damiano rolls the condom over his length. “I want you to touch yourself.”
“I can do that, Sir.” I cup my tits in my hands, fondling them, squeezing gently. I stroke over my pebbled nipples and suck in a sharp breath of pleasure.
“Nice.” Damiano nods.
I revel in his approval and give him a flirty wink.
“Damiano looks ready.” Seth nods to where his friend is stroking himself. “Are you here to fuck, little Miss M?”
I nod. “Yes, Sir.”
I want it so bad, I’m panting, breathing hard, squirming in place. Touching myself like this for them…
“Good. I want to see you ride him.”
“I—right now?” I’m aroused, but are we really doing this?
Seth raises his eyebrows. Those hazel eyes draw me in. I want to ride him, too. I want them both. One night at the auction and I’ve turned into the happiest little horn-dog.
“Get up on Damiano.”
“Wait,” Damiano stands and approaches me, his cock jutting forward unashamedly. He touches my cheek, my chin, tilting my face upward. “A kiss, bella. Let me taste your sweet mouth.”
I part my lips, welcoming him. When his lips touch mine, I feel myself unfurling like a flower, everything open and warm. He deepens the kiss, his tongue surging forward to taste and plunder. His shoulders are firm beneath my fists.
Damiano pulls back from the kiss and presses his forehead to mine. “You are delectable.”
His approval feels like warm sunlight on my skin. I want more. More than his words, more than a kiss. My legs are shaky, my panties wet.
He kisses me again. An insistent, driving pulse pounds in my body, centers between my legs. I want, I want, I want.
Another set of hands joins us—Seth is touching my waist. My breath stutters and I moan. The contact is surprising, but welcome. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of my flimsy panties and tugs them down my thighs.
I wait, shivering with anticipation, for what he’ll do next.
But all he does is pat my ass and say, “Now, Miss M. Show Damiano and me what we paid for.”
Damiano is already easing back to the low bench, his pants still lowered just enough to expose his erect cock. I close the distance between us and lift one knee, placing it on the bench next to his hip.
He grabs my waist and hauls me closer. “You want this, Miss M? Do you want to fuck my dick until you come?”
Do I ever. “Yes, Sir.”
“Take your pleasure on me, then. You know what to do, you know what you like.”
“But what about—what do you like?” They paid for this; they should have the kind of sex they want.
He grins, slow and sexy. “I like watching little girls like you get off.”
I want, I want, I want. The words pulse faster in my ears. I grab the base of his cock and line him up with my pussy, then lower myself to his lap.
So good, the way he fills me. I slide over him with little resistance. My eyes shut as I savor the feeling.
“Gorgeous.” Damiano runs a hand through my hair. “Now watch me while you take your pleasure, bella.”
I open my eyes. It’s uncomfortable to stare at this stranger while I sit so close to his face. But the way he watches me—so pleased, like I’m the fulfillment of every fantasy he’s ever had—makes this even hotter.
Damiano’s brown eyes look me over. “Up and down, Miss M. Move in the ways that feel good to you.”
Does he really get off from this? He’s barely touching me, just watching.
I lift up and press back down, appreciating the slick glide where we come together. The angle isn’t exactly right so I shift my hips slightly. The next time I lift up—yes. There.
“Good.” Seth’s voice comes from close behind, but he moves around to stand at the side. “You know what you like, don’t you, Miss M?”
“Yes, Sir.” I’m afraid to look at him, afraid to see whatever emotion is hiding behind his stern mask.
Damiano’s hands flex on my hips. “What else would help you get off, hmm? Do you like touches on your clit? Your breasts?”
“Breasts—nipples.” I slide up and down again. Full, so full. So good.
“I can do that.” He cups my breasts and squeezes. He lightly pinches each of my nipples, rolling them.
A moan escapes my throat. “More, yes, just like that.”
“Yes.” He nods. “Yes, I can do more. I want you gasping, Miss M. I want you coming harder than you ever have before.”
That won’t be difficult to achieve. I’m already ramping up to an orgasm. I can feel everything pulling together, tighter and tighter. Meanwhile, Damiano is sitting absolutely still other than his attention to my breasts. And Seth is standing here—I’m afraid to look at him.
But then Seth does the unthinkable. He touches my chin and tilts my head so I’m gazing directly at his face.
“Go ahead and come, Miss M.”
It’s too soon, I’m not quite there. But as I look at him, it throws me over the edge. White-hot bliss surges through my body, electrifying. I cry out, my pleasure echoing in the black-walled room.
Panting, I slump forward against Damiano’s bare torso. His chest hair tickles my skin as I try to catch my breath. Aftershocks from the orgasm have my pussy gripping and clenching around his cock, which is still hard inside me.
He didn’t come. He hasn’t even pumped his hips. I squirm, wondering if he wants to continue to get his own release, or if he’s done now. Or do I do this same thing on Seth? How does it work?
“One more for us, Miss M.” Damiano’s voice pulls my attention back to him. “This time, I’ll come with you.”