Her Mile High Mates [The Hot Millionaires #4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Zara Chase Page B

overwhelmed her senses.
    She smiled her appreciation at Clyde and then lowered her eyes again, waiting to be told what to do. Both men sat themselves down on a settee, still fully clothed. She stood in front of them, hot, wet, and desperate to get it on. She knew better than to say so—not because they might punish her if she did, but because they might not.
    “Take your clothes off, Fabia,” Peyton said.
    “Strip for us, baby,” Clyde added. “Give us a show.”
    She did as they asked. Slowly. One garment at a time. She wasn’t wearing much but managed to spin out the removal of what she did have on for so long that she noticed a marked increase in the bulges in their pants. Good! She wanted all they had to offer and, subservient or not, wasn’t about to settle for half measures.
    Down to her pale blue bra and thong, she turned her back on them and wiggled her ass in their faces. The gesture produced identical agonized groans.
    “You guys sound like you’re in physical pain.”
    “Did anyone give you permission to speak?” Peyton asked.
    “Sorry, Master.”
    With her back still to them, she unsnapped her bra and let it fall to the floor. She covered her tits with her hands, and when she turned to face them, her rock-hard nipples protruded between the thumbs and forefingers of the hands that pinched them. With her palms, she pushed the firm flesh of each breast toward its mate until her nipples almost touched.
    “Christ!” Clyde spoke the one word on a fractured breath.
    “She seems to have forgotten who’s in charge here.” Peyton stood up. “Stop that and drop your hands to your sides, Fabia. Do it now.”
    She did as he asked, eyes downcast.
    “You have to be punished for literally taking matters into your own hands.”
    “Yes, sir. I shouldn’t have done that.”
    “No, you shouldn’t.”
    She watched him, excitement mounting as he sat on the edge of the water bed. It shifted beneath his weight with a gentle whooshing sound and then settled into place again.
    “Come here.”
    She approached and stood before him, hands folded contritely across her pussy.
    “Get me a light whip, Clyde.”
    A whip?
    Fabia had imagined he’d go gently and use his hand or a paddle. She wondered how he knew she adored being whipped.
    “Lean over my legs, Fabia,” he said when Clyde supplied him with a long-lashed whip that made her bubble over with excitement. “Will you let me punish you?”
    “Yes, Master. I deserve it.”
    He chuckled. “You want it, more like.” Once she’d settled over his strong thighs, still wearing her thong, he pushed her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck. “Any time you need me to stop, just say the word, babe. I want to punish you, but I don’t wanna do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
    She nodded, and he brought the whip down across her buttocks. It stung but not nearly enough. He must be using a flogger with soft, wide leather strips. The sensation it left in its wake felt more like a massage than a whipping. She really needed to feel this but didn’t dare say so. She heard the whip crack through the air for a second time and lifted her butt to meet it, increasing the impact.
    She heard Clyde chuckle and groan simultaneously.
    “Greedy little madam, ain’t she?”
    Peyton was still fully clothed, but she could feel his erection pushing into her midriff. It seemed to grow a little larger each time he brought the whip down, which was just fine by her. He thrashed her for a third time and then ripped her thong off. Without the thin barrier to trap them, her juices trickled down her leg.
    “Tut, tut.” She sensed Peyton shaking his head. “No self-control.”
    “I’m hot for you, Master.”
    “So I see.”
    She was disappointed when he threw the whip aside, but that disappointment transmuted to anticipation when she felt lube being squirted over the crack in her ass. A slick finger inserted itself into her anus, and Fabia let out a squeal of pleasure. At