Tymber Dalton - Safe Harbor

Mac nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Do you promise to love and care for and cherish and protect her?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Pet, do you promise to obey slave as you would me?”

“Yes, Master.”

“By accepting this collar, you are accepting both of us.”

“Yes, Master.”

He leaned over and swept her hair from her neck. “Slave, collar our pet.”

Mac smiled as he leaned in and carefully buckled and locked it around her neck. He kissed her. “Our sweet pet,” he whispered.

Sully helped her to her feet and kissed her. “Do you trust me, pet?” he whispered.

She nodded.

She did.

He led her to a nearby trapeze bar where he kissed her again.

“Strip, pet.”

With her eyes locked onto his grey gaze, she did, until she stood naked before him except for her collar.

Mac, still dressed in jeans and a black button-up shirt like Sully’s, fastened the suspension cuffs to her wrists. After her wrists were hooked to the bar, Mac raised it enough to take up the slack.

Tonight, the panic straps were not within her reach. Sully used the straps he usually used with Mac.

Both men took their time massaging her, slow, sensual strokes that relaxed her and sent her mind swirling into subspace. She’d deeply experienced it at the last play party they attended and longed to feel it again.

When Sully slipped the blindfold over her eyes, she knew he was preparing to start in earnest. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “There will be no pleasure this time, pet. I will never be as harsh with you as I am with slave, but do you want to feel my mark on you tonight?”

“Yes, twice.”

“Twice?”

“Once for each of you.”

He kissed her, as did Mac. “Then you shall.” He warmed her up with the flogger first, while Mac stood in front of her, maintaining contact with her, kissing her, playing with her nipples, whispering to her as Sully stepped up the play.

He switched to the riding crop, gentle at first, increasing his strokes as he brought her deeper into subspace. Mac slipped two fingers between her legs and slowly stroked a few times before pressing them to her lips. She sucked them in and laved his fingers with her tongue.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he kept repeating the gesture, bringing her close to orgasm each time he stroked her with his fingers before withdrawing them again.

Sully switched to a cane. He wasn’t as hard on her as she thought he might be, but as her conscious spun into that happy place where the endorphins kicked in, she wiggled her ass, encouraging him.

Sully laughed. “Playful pet.”

He increased the tempo and strength of his strokes, until she thought she couldn’t take it anymore.

The briefest thought of calling red crossed her mind when he stopped and stepped in close, his body pressed against hers. “How are we, pet?”

She rotated her left hand.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “Say it, pet.”

“Green, Master.”

He kissed her and tenderly stroked her hair. “Do you still want our mark?”

“Yes!”

“Two strokes, that’s all I’ll give you. You have my word.”

He stepped away. Mac cupped his hand behind her neck and pulled her head forward against his chest, supporting her.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Take a deep breath.”

She heard the crack of a whip. She jumped, but it didn’t make contact.

Sully stroked her ass with the handle. “I’ll mark you here”—he traced a line on her right ass cheek—“and here.” He traced a matching line on her left.

He took a few more practice throws, making the whip crack each time.

“Who do you belong to, pet?” Sully asked.

“You, Master!”

Before she finished the last word, the whip cracked. A fraction of a second later, she felt the whip bite into her flesh.

Mac held her. “How are you, pet?”

She rotated her left hand.

“One more, pet,” he whispered.

Before the sound died on his lips, the whip cracked again. As the feel of the whip striking her made it to her brain, Sully was already behind her, holding her while Mac unclipped her wrists. Sully scooped her into his arms as Mac tucked a blanket around her. She knew her ass would be sore in the morning, but the brain buzz was well worth it.

Sully carried Clarisse into the dressing room, where he sat on one of the benches with her protectively cradled in his arms. Mac joined them a moment later, carrying their things. He removed her cuffs and knelt in front of Sully so she was supported by both men.

“Such a good girl,” Sully softly said. “I’m so proud of you. I will never be that hard on you again.”

“Why not?” She cracked an eye open. While the two places he’d nailed her with the whip still stung, the rest of it had faded into a dull ache she knew would be fine by morning.

Sully’s face broke into a wide grin. “Because you aren’t into pain, pet. I know that.”

“I trust you not to take me too far.”

He kissed her. One of his hands snuck under the blanket and caressed her between her legs. Mac reached under as well, pressing two fingers inside her.

She shivered, her desire still hovering, incomplete from before.

Sully pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Come for us, pet.

You more than earned it.”

Clarisse went limp in their arms as she enjoyed the feel of their hands on her. It didn’t take long for them to bring her to orgasm. She buried her face against Sully’s chest and cried out, letting go as her body welcomed the pleasure she’d been denied earlier.

While she recovered from that, Sully let Mac take her. “Let’s get her cleaned up and take her home.”

“What about slave?” she mumbled against Mac’s chest. “We just got here a little bit ago.”

Sully laughed and brushed the hair from her face. “Tonight was all about you, sweetheart, not him. We’re going to take you home and tuck you safely into bed and sleep late. Then we’re going to spend tomorrow pampering our very sweet pet.”

Mac carried her into the bathroom. Between the two men, they took care of her, pulled an oversized T-shirt over her head, put a pair of shorts on her, and then Sully carried her out to the Jag and crawled into the backseat with her.

As she dropped into a deep sleep, she felt him weave her hair around his fingers and rest his hand against her shoulder.

Clarisse helped Mac unload the groceries and supplies from the Bug at the marina. “I’m going to run Bart over to Uncle Tad.”

He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her deeply. “Hurry.” He nipped her bottom lip. “I’ve got a collar with your name on it, and I’m in a mood to play.” He ground his hips into hers, making sure she felt his stiff cock. “I’m in a mood to play hard.”

She grinned. “I’d say you are.”

He swatted her ass before releasing her with a final kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” She climbed back into the Bug and drove off.

Mac smiled as he watched her go. A four-day weekend alone with her was a special treat. Sully could have taken her with him to the conference, but wanted them to have time together.

He returned to the boat to finish his trip preparations. In the three months since the wedding, life had hit a happy plateau he never wanted to come down from. He hadn’t had a single nightmare, and neither had Sully. Clarisse also slept like a rock every night.

Sully smiled more than Mac ever remembered him smiling before.

It tickled Mac when Sully would be the stern, unyielding Master, yet turn around later the same day and drop protocols to privately ask him if he wanted alone time with Clarisse.