Leah Braemel - Private Property

Sam’s gaze flicked over to him, rested briefly on the flogger in his hand. Mark glanced down and realized he’d gripped it so hard his knuckles were white.

When Sam resumed tonguing her glistening pussy, Mark took a step back. Closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see how she rotated her hips toward Sam’s mouth. Tried to close his ears to the sound of Jodi’s soft whimpers. Whimpers he wanted to be for him. Only him.

“Please,” Jodi pleaded. “Please, Sam, please let me come. I really need this.”

Mark’s teeth ground so hard, he swore sparks would shoot from his mouth. She should be begging him to make her come, not Sam. What made him think Jodi was someone he could stand by and watch as someone else fucked her?

He opened his eyes to find Sam picking up the crop he’d set down.

“No moving, remember?” Sam gave Mark a curious look as he snapped the crop across Jodi’s ass.

Her thighs quivered as if they tried to close, to press together and ease the ache he heard in her voice.

God, she was so beautiful. So responsive.

Beneath her blindfold, he knew her eyelids would be heavy from sexual arousal. His hand lifted of its own accord, hovered over Jodi’s full bottom lip, wanting to stroke it; his body leaned in until he could feel the heat of her body brush his. He wanted to drop to his knees and kiss the taut, budded nipples, hear her beg for more attention. His attention.

He’d go down on her, taste that wonderful cream streaming down her thighs. Suck on her clit, use his fingers against that spot that he knew drove her insane. He’d bring her to orgasm again and again, and each time she’d scream his name. His name. No one else’s. Ever.

But after he’d gone to Sam and suggested this evening, after he’d convinced Jodi it would be fun, how could he back out? How could he tell Sam to leave? He’d look like a first-class idiot.

“Such a pretty pink ass you’ve got, sweet pea,” Sam said. “And your pussy is so wet it’s dripping down your thighs like Niagara Falls. Hey, Mark, hand me that cloth, will you, buddy?”

When Sam’s large hand caressed her ass and Jodi moaned her approval, Mark’s vision went red.

“Here you go.” A dark anger reverberated through Mark’s voice, a threatening tone she’d heard only once before-when a suspect had attacked her from behind. She wished she could see his face, see into his eyes and know what he was thinking.

The sound of a scuffle and Mark’s explosive “What the fuck!” had her tugging at her restraints but they held fast. Her vulnerability slapped her harder than any flogging she’d had that night, squeezed the breath from her lungs.

Footsteps-shuffling noises, grunts-came from behind her.

“What the fuck are you doing, Watson? Get off me!”

There was a bang as if someone had been shoved into a wall and a rattling noise as something skittered across the floor.

“Mark! Mark?” Her breath came in short, quick gasps while her legs could barely support her. “Mark, what’s happening? What’s the matter? Sam, what are you doing? Let him go!”

“I’m doing this for your own good, buddy.”

“You hurt Jodi, I’ll fucking kill you, Watson.” The undercurrent of fear in Mark’s voice sent ice cubes tumbling down Jodi’s spine. “I’ll cut off your balls and shove ’em so far down your throat they’ll come out your ass.”

Flesh smacked on flesh and Sam grunted. “Goddamn it, buddy, you’re wrigglier than a greased pig. I’ve just changed up the plan, that’s all.”

Sam’s voice came closer. She pulled back as far as the restraints allowed her, which meant she could barely move.

“Now don’t you fuss there, sweet pea, if that boyfriend of yours would just shut his face for a minute, I think you’ll both agree to my little change of plan.”

Jodi blinked in the light as Sam gently peeled the blindfold from her face.

“It’s all right, honey, I’m not going to hurt you. But you’d better slow down your breathin’ before you pass out.” He cupped her face with his huge hand. “In through your nose and out through your mouth, all right?”

Somewhat dazed that she was trusting him, she followed his direction, forcing air into steel-banded lungs. The trembling in her legs and arms gradually subsided.

“That’s it, sweet pea. Remember, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to do. I’m going to let you free, but first you have to promise to listen to my proposal, all right?”

“Mark?” she asked, forcing air from her lungs. “What have you done with Mark?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Sam moved aside.

Her eyes widened to see Mark lying on a gargantuan bed. Heavy leather straps restrained his arms and legs, spread-eagled until he resembled a prisoner in the dungeon of a medieval castle. Except the bright room she found herself in resembled no medieval castle she’d ever seen.

Mirrors lining the walls and ceiling reflected the bed. Overstuffed multicolored pillows of various shapes were scattered across the floor, dislodged from the bed no doubt by Mark’s struggles. A giant flat-screen television loomed at the end of the bed, a second hung over the headboard, yet another was mounted flat within the mirrored ceiling for the ultimate viewing experience from any angle. A leather sling hung in one corner while chairs and a bench had been grouped by a large unlit fireplace. More cushions and wedges covered in leather and velvet and silk were heaped upon them but didn’t hide the leather restraints on the arms.

There was no ambiguity about the purpose of the room-it had been designed for every sexual position that she could have dreamed of-and several she couldn’t.

Mark glared at their captor as he continued cursing Sam, a look so fierce on his face that Jodi shivered. She’d seen Mark in action, seen how he could take down an armed opponent barehanded. To be chained, pinned, useless would be torture for him. And yet there was something so provocative, so compelling about having Mark bound. Would Sam let her have a say in what directions their games would now take?

“Trust me, Jodi. Please,” Sam said quietly. “I’m just changing the original plans Mark and I worked out, that’s all. But I think you’ll both enjoy what I’ve got planned.”

Mark’s scowl darkened. “Just what has that perverted mind of yours dreamed up this time, Watson?”

Sam smiled at Jodi, though a cautious look shadowed his eyes. “He calls me perverted after he suggested tonight’s entertainment.”

His light-hearted gibe belied the worry lines crinkling his forehead, and the way he kept glancing between her and Mark. He obviously wasn’t as sure they’d approve of his plan as his tone implied.

“Will you promise that when I let you go, you won’t attack me? Will you at least hear me out?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering how to interpret the dark look Mark shot her. He’d arranged the game, he’d trusted Sam. Now it was up to her to trust Mark’s judgment.

A slight nod of her head gave him her answer.

“Thank you.” Sam knelt beside her and began to unfasten the leather strap attaching her ankle to one of the two posts she’d been tied to. Despite her assurance she’d listen to him, he kept the post between them so she couldn’t easily kick him. But then why should he trust her given how he’d betrayed Mark’s trust?

After Sam freed both Jodi’s ankles, he flipped open the clasp restraining her right arm, took her wrist in his and chafed it between his palms. He freed her left hand, and massaged that wrist too. She glanced down and saw just how huge his hands were as they engulfed her small one, felt the power in them and knew they could snap her bones as easy as a dry twig. Yet he held her so gently she might have been a baby bird cradled in his palms.