Brazen Seduction (14 page)

Still, Richard seemed to be the caretaker here, whereas in that other family, the role fell to Marcus, a self-admitted sub.

So being Dom or sub wasn’t one way or another. It really was an individual interpretation and likely just relative to the nature of the people involved.

Which probably meant that she had a rocky road ahead of her.

How many times had she been accused of being bossy, wanting to have things her own way? She knew the answer to that. Probably as often as she’d been accused of jumping in, with both feet, before having a careful look.

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Well, that trait had gotten her where she was today—and not just on a treadmill.

Only time would tell if that same penchant would be the ousting of her from this relationship, too.

* * * *

Molly dried off from her shower, not sure what to think about the fact there’d been no one in there with her to wash her back—or anything else. She wondered if the men had their heads together in the kitchen, making breakfast. Her belly growled, and she realized she could eat.

She also wanted coffee more than she wanted anything else.

On second thought, there might be one other thing she wanted more. She entered the bedroom from the bath to find her men lounging on the bed, waiting for her, ready for her as she watched them gently caress each other’s latex-covered cocks.

“Now that you’re all fresh and clean, we’re going to mess you up again.” Richard said. “I’ve wanted to do this for some time. I think you’re ready for it.”

Molly felt her heart trip. Oh, yes she was. She walked toward the bed, crawling onto it, slinking her way between the men. They’d obviously showered downstairs. She inhaled deeply, their man-scent strong despite the soap. She loved their aroma,, the musky, manly tang that found its place deep in her belly.

Richard grabbed her hair, and brought her to him for his kiss.

Molly opened her mouth wide, sucking his tongue into her mouth as she would his cock, bold in giving him all she was, and in taking as much as he would give.

His and Alan’s hands caressed her and she moaned with delight.

How amazing to feel four hands touching and tweaking, caressing and cupping. To have fingers on both breasts and in her pussy at the same time, the motions of plucking and fucking perfectly timed.

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“You’re so wet for us, baby,” Richard said.

“Always.” She could answer nothing else. She only needed to think of them, and she felt her dampness drench her.

Richard turned her so that she faced Alan, who wasted no time pulling her on top of him.

Richard rose to his knees beside them. “Take him into that hot, wet pussy of yours, Molly. Fuck him.” Alan lifted her and his cock slid deep. Molly moved on Alan, lifting and dropping, lifting and dropping, the friction of his dick heating her core, building her arousal. She braced her hands on the bed on either side of his head, smiled down at him, and then bent close to kiss him.

She shivered when Richard smoothed the lubricant on her ass.

“Now, you’ll have us both,” he said.

Alan opened his legs, making room between them for their master to kneel. Molly felt the heat of Richard’s body and then the press of his cock against her anus.

Already that muscle opened, admitting him easier than that first time. He leaned over her and nuzzled her neck. “Hold on,” he said.

Oh, God! He slid into her, one long, slow, and steady thrust that stretched her beyond her wildest dream. She could feel both men inside her, hot and hard, and the sensation felt incredible.

“Oh, yes, Master, I can feel your cock brushing against mine.” Alan said. He shivered beneath her and Molly’s arousal climbed even higher.

“I know, darling. I feel yours, too.” Richard hissed that, then held still and Molly sensed he worked to keep control of his passion. His next words proved that.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Molly, so you set the pace. Fuck us both at the same time, sweetheart.”

Molly gave in to the urge to rock, her movement easy at first, testing. Forward and down to brush her clit against the hair that
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nestled Alan’s cock, then up and back to press Richard’s cock more deeply into her ass.

“Oh!” She shivered and jerked as it felt as if everything inside her melded, became one giant erogenous spot.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Richard said.

“Ah, yes, my God, it’s fabulous.” Alan groaned.

Both men sounded near the end of their tethers, and the idea that she could make both lose control at the same time filled Molly with joy and determination.

Back and forth, shivering, she moved her hips, the motion evolving from smooth and slow to jerky and urgent as her arousal, so huge, took over. “
Yes.
”

“Now.” Richard said.

Molly couldn’t hold her scream as her orgasm took her, captured her, and hurled her beyond the lustful into the sextreme, wave after wave that battered her will until she could only take, not just the rapture flooding her, but the solid thrusting of her lovers, prisoners of their own climaxes.

Deaf and paralyzed, only her heart pounding in her chest to assure her she lived, Molly lay collapsed on Alan, sucking in breath fast and deep.

“We didn’t hurt you?” Richard asked. Molly admired his superior ability. She couldn’t manage talk just yet. She hoped the grunt she gave him was sufficient reassurance she felt fine.

He eased out of her and off the bed but returned in moments, lifting her, cradling her while Alan took his turn in the bathroom.

Then they all three snuggled under the covers, still struggling for breath. Molly shivered, a strong aftershock she figured would measure a five on the Richter scale.

“Holy crap.”

The words sounded so funny coming from Alan, she laughed, even though she couldn’t have said it better herself.

“Now
that
is what I call a workout,” she said.

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She took the sounds that came from both men as agreement.

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“Peter, I appreciate that yesterday was Memorial Day. Strangely enough, for me, too. I’m not sure I understand what that has to do with my question. I want to know if the silk screens are going to be delivered to Mr. Farmington today, or not?” Alan tried not to let the sound of his impatience filter through the telephone line. Peter Benjamin was arguably one of the finest silk-screen artists he’d ever met. But the man had the business sense of a gnat.

He listened as Peter went into a long explanation that, boiled down to its lowest common denominator, meant no.

“When, then?” Of course, Alan knew what had happened.

Someone who knew Peter, likely a friend of a friend, dropped in on the artist with another friend in tow, and that friend likely saw the screens commissioned for Barry Farmington’s executive office and had
oohed
and
aahed
over them and the damn twit artist either sold them or gave them away.

“All right.” Alan sighed heavily. He looked up and saw Molly at the doorway to his office. He winked at her and enjoyed the pretty blush she gave him in return. “Peter, I’m going to hold you to that. I’ll be by Thursday afternoon. You have to have those pieces for me then.”

Alan hung up the phone and stared at the receiver for a moment.

“Thank God I told Farmington they wouldn’t be ready until Friday at the earliest.”

Molly laughed. “From what I’ve seen so far, you do as much people-handling as you do interior decorating.”
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“Tell me about it. You look very nice, by the way.” She’d put her hair up in a no-nonsense chignon and applied a very subtle layer of makeup. Her shoes looked sensible, modest pumps, not even close to the fuck-me heels she’d worn at Reckless Abandon.

“Thank you. Mr. Nicholson prefers that members of his executive staff dress in proper business attire. Richard said you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride over to my apartment, so I can pick up my car.”

“I’d be delighted to. He’s working at getting you a parking spot in the secured lot across the street. The spaces are rented by the month, so it may take a bit of time, but you’ll have one eventually.”

“Why, when I can park at my apartment for free?”

“Ah yes, for now. But what if, down the road, you no longer have that apartment?” He tilted his head to one side and waited for that information to process.

“I’m very conscientious about paying my rent on time. I hardly ever have wild, drunken orgies—without inviting the landlord. I don’t think I’m going to be evicted anytime soon.”

“You
are
a smart-ass.” He stepped around his desk and approached her. He would have liked to get his fingers into all that glorious red hair. But of course, that would have to wait until the end of the day, after work.

Maybe Richard would let him muss her up a bit, before he himself got his hands on her.

“You don’t think this is just a game, do you? Or something casual?”

“No, I know it’s not. I’m just not completely certain what it is, yet.”

“That’s fair enough. You’ve only been with us a few days, after all.” He’d already gotten his things together, ready to leave when he’d remembered he needed to call Peter. Now he picked up his case and took his car keys out of his pocket.

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“Come on, I’ll drop you at your place. I know Richard would have, but he had that obscenely early meeting with the CEO of RoeCorp.”

“So he said. I guess his customers make him jump through hoops, too.”

“Part of the glamour and glory of owning your own,” Alan said.

He ushered her out of the house and ensured the door locked behind him.

“He gave me a key already,” Molly said as they stood on the sidewalk and waited to cross the street.

This neighborhood had been very fashionable back in the day.

Thanks to urban redevelopment, it would be that way again. But people were people, and it became obvious that leaving a very nice car parked on the street overnight came with risks. A year ago the developer put up a secured garage.

Alan, for one, felt very grateful.

“Why shouldn’t you have a key? We’re all involved, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Molly agreed. “I’m still trying to figure it out. I know that I’ve never been turned on as much as I have been since Friday night.

But it does confuse me a little.”

“The fact that Richard is my master and yet I own my own business, where I’m the boss?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not something that I can—or should—explain to you, sweetheart. You’ll either get it, or you won’t.” Alan just smiled in response to the scowl she sent him. He bet she would get it—and sooner, rather than later.

* * * *

For the first time since she’d been employed at Nicholson Manufacturing, Molly had difficulty concentrating on her work. It was month end, always a busy time in accounting. Usually there were
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so many last-minute additions and deletions, so many journal entries, that she felt rushed and crushed with the weight of what needed to be done. Her job was vital in that it was her responsibility to produce the financial statement each month.

Usually, that sense of vitality, of urgency, fuelled her so that she could work quickly and without a break.

Today, her head simply couldn’t get in the game.

The sense of being watched caused a shiver to snake down her spine. Appearing to keep her head down, she shifted her gaze up and to the right.

Brian watched her. Again.

The main office where she worked had been designed so that department heads occupied offices along two walls, and the office workers sat in cubicles created by portable cloth “walls.” Her staff—

all three of them—sat outside her office to the left.

Brian took up the actual glass-enclosed office directly across to her right.

Normally, he annoyed her by asking her to do little things for him—look up this fact, trace down this shipment—just jobs he could give her to do to make himself feel important.

This was the first time he’d sat for long periods of time and simply stared at her. It creeped her out.

She put her eyes back on her work and forced herself to concentrate. When he got up and left the area, she heaved a sigh of relief.

The work finally caught her attention. There were regular entries that needed to be made each month end, accruals that would then have to be reversed once the financial statements were produced.

The bulk of these could be entered by her staff, but some pertained to confidential information, like salaries. These she would enter herself.

A shadow fell over her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she looked up and saw Brian standing before her.

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“Mr. Horner.”

“I’ve spoken to Uncle Norman. He thinks it would be a good idea if I sat in with you when you begin to do the month-end run.”

“Why?”

As far as she’d been able to tell, Brian Horner didn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground when it came to financial matters. Or anything else for that matter.

“Because I believe you need someone in authority to supervise you. The Nicholson name is on the company and by extension, of course, the Horner name. Uncle Norman’s signature is on your paycheck, which makes you simply an employee of the family. My being with you as, shall we say, an overseer, will ensure that the family’s interests are served.”

“I see.”

Molly never felt more insulted in her life. And she wasn’t even certain what the greater insult was, Brian’s not-so-subtle impugning of her character or the way he seemed to be leering at her, as if he could see right through her clothes.

He made her skin crawl. She wanted a shower.

She felt her temper simmering and knew she would say something she might come to regret. She tried to bite her tongue, but she didn’t try very hard.