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  She didn’t have a chance to examine the additional strangers before Sawyer grabbed her waist with both of his hands. The man behind her moved aside, giving Sawyer the ability to shove her toward the bed. As the back of her knees hit the mattress, he whirled her around and, with a hand on her spine, pushed her facedown on the bed.

  He replaced the hand with his knee, pinning her to the mattress. “Oz. Get over here and pull down these pants of hers. It’s time we taught her a lesson she’ll never forget.”

  She twisted her neck around to see the man with the dreads walk forward, a wicked grin visible even with the mask still on.

  Oz.

  The knowledge of who these men were popped into her head.

  These must be his best friends—Oz, Hunter, and Rowan.

  In one smooth motion, Oz yanked down her leggings and panties, baring her ass for all the men to see. A breeze that felt more like a warm breath wafted over her skin. Only a second later, a sharp sting on her right ass cheek drove her to her toes.

  Son of a bitch. That was a warm breath. Oz had bitten her.

  “Mm,” Oz said. “I couldn’t stop myself from taking a taste of that luscious ass. Just look how easily she bruises.”

  Sawyer tugged on her hair, jerking her head back. “Wait until we see it covered in red stripes. You got the crop, Rowan?”

  “I do. Would you like to do the honors, or shall I get her warmed up for you?” Unlike the playful Oz, this man—Rowan—spoke in a clipped tone that conveyed his seriousness.

  “You’re the real sadist of the group,” Sawyer said, climbing on the bed. He straddled her waist and restrained her shoulders with his hands. “I think you should go first. After all, this is a punishment.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Rowan responded. He didn’t give her time to prepare before the first whack landed on the same spot where Oz had bitten her, the sting painful but not unmanageable. “Hmm. I was going to warm her up, but I’m in the mood to watch her squirm. Let’s watch the little masochist dance.”

  Each blow stronger than the last, whack after whack lit up the nerves on her ass, a blazing heat spreading like wildfire across her sensitive skin. Tears pricked her eyes, the pain almost blistering as he made sure he didn’t miss a single spot. She should’ve wanted to evade the stings, and yet she greeted every one of them with a subtle raise of her ass.

  There was no escape from the onslaught.

  Sawyer’s weight on her body kept her from shifting, protecting her from harm if she made any sudden moves, the crop hitting a kidney a dangerous possibility.

  There was no escape.

  Not that she wanted to.

  The arousal bloomed like a flower, colorful and vibrant. Her clitoris beat in sync with her heart, her body a live wire. She was sinking into a place she hadn’t been in several years. A place where time had no meaning, love had no reason, and sex had no limits.

  “I don’t think the crop is much of a punishment for her,” came a voice that was somehow rumbly and smooth at the same time. It must have been Hunter. He was the only one whose voice she hadn’t heard before.

  “You think you can do better?” asked a voice she recognized as Rowan’s.

  “Hell, yeah,” said Hunter.

  Sawyer lifted himself off her back. “Get her up, then. It’s time to see how much she can take.”

  A moment later, she was hefted to her feet. Her limbs were liquid, her head heavy. One of the men maneuvered her toward an open area of the room. After he removed her shirt and bra, leaving her completely naked, her arms were raised above her head. A rope tied around her wrists. Her legs spread. More rope around her ankles. The ropes tightened. Her body stretched.

  Wielding a black flogger in his hand, Sawyer stood in front of her, looking every bit the dangerous intruder he pretended to be. Fisting her hair in his other hand, he tipped her head back. “She’s floating.” He smiled, baring his teeth to her.

  A sharp biting pain gripped her nipple. She cried out as her nipple began to throb. Then, before she could adjust, the same happened to her other nipple. Clamps. Sawyer had clamped her nipples, and if she had to guess, he’d used the clover ones that tightened when pulled.

  “Let’s take her higher, Oz.”

  She jolted as the falls from Sawyer’s flogger hit her breast, the jostling causing the clamp to tighten.

  Sadist.

  The next blow landed on the back of her thigh, the sting of it spreading straight to her pussy.

  How the hell had Sawyer hit her there?

  Her confusion lasted only a few seconds as she realized Oz also had a flogger.

  They were tag teaming her.

  The dual floggers rained stinging kisses upon her body, sweeping her consciousness away as she closed her eyes and succumbed to the painful paradise. She’d never cared much for the thudding floggers, with their impact more like a massage. She preferred the kind that stung and made her feel alive. Her skin felt as though she’d fallen asleep in the sun and had gotten a wicked sunburn. Her breasts ached. Her pussy throbbed.

  And if someone didn’t fuck her soon, she was going to scream.

  The flogging stopped. Hands, cool and rough, caressed her blazing skin. So many hands. Squeezing. Pinching. Slapping. Up her thighs. Over her ass. Down her spine. Across her belly. Everywhere but where she needed them most.

  She bowed her head, too into the sensations to care whose touch was where. It didn’t matter anyway. They all belonged to Sawyer.

  Agony, strong and swift, shot through her nipples as both the clamps were removed at once, allowing the blood to rush back into the pulsating buds. The pain hurtled her toward climax, and when two sets of lips descended onto her nipples, sucking them into hot mouths, she blasted apart, her pussy clenching and releasing over and over in pleasurable contractions.

  A tongue slithered up her slit, lapping at her come. Another mouth nipped at her ass and then soothed with wicked licks. The cheeks were spread apart, and the tongue touched her there, the dark and forbidden spot that begged for more than a tongue. The mouth on her pussy moved higher, the coolness of a metal piercing joining the warm tongue in lavishing attention on her clitoris. She was sensitive from her recent orgasm, and the contact was too much for her to process. She tried to move away from it, but she was held hostage by rope and hands and mouths.

  “Tastes good after she comes, doesn’t she?” Sawyer asked, releasing one of her nipples to speak.

  Approval in the form of a hum came from the one between her thighs, the vibration of it adding to the intense pleasure. She hurdled toward another climax, her legs shaking out of control, but before she could fall over the cliff, the men stopped, their hands and tongues disappearing from her body.

  “No,” she whined, pulling at the ropes to free her hands so she could force them to finish the job. When she opened her eyes, her gaze fell on Sawyer’s beautiful face and the desire etched all over it.

  He’d pleasured her with pain. Awarded her with an orgasm. And now it was time for her to return the favor.

  The ropes were released from her wrists and ankles.

  “We’re not here for your enjoyment,” he said, the lie almost sounding convincing. “It’s time to put you and that pretty little mouth of yours to work.” He pushed on the top of her head. “Get on your knees.”

  From the floor, she looked up at him expectantly. While she obviously loved the beating and the orgasm, she lived to serve him, the fulfillment it brought her more intoxicating than drinking a bottle of wine.

  Belts unbuckled and fell onto the carpet. Pants were dropped, baring four men from the waist down. Sawyer and Hunter moved to stand in front of her, each with their legs slightly spread. Two thick cocks, one with a metal ball pierced through it, jutted out as if begging for her touch. Her hands itched to do just that, but she controlled her impulse, awaiting her Master’s instructions.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  Sawyer kneeled beside her and pushed her toward Hunter’s
cock. “Open your mouth wide and take him in.”

  Her mouth opened as if she had no say in it. Which, short of using her safe word, she didn’t.

  Sawyer didn’t give her a second to get acclimated. Just forced her down the length of Hunter’s cock until she took every inch of him inside. His hairs tickled her nose. She swore she could feel the piercing against the soft tissue of her throat, but just as she got used to him, Sawyer tugged her back by her hair. He pushed and tugged, pushed and tugged, controlling the blow job she was giving his friend.

  Then Sawyer ripped her away from Hunter, and another cock entered her mouth, this one longer. She wasn’t sure who it belonged to, and she didn’t care. She became a vessel for the men’s pleasure, the gift her Master bestowed upon his friends.

  Closing her eyes again, she sunk into the rhythm that Sawyer played with her, letting him use her mouth to please his friends as they each took turns inside her mouth.

  She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when her mouth was no longer filled. Sawyer lifted her soaking pussy onto his waiting cock. He didn’t move. Just held her tightly to him, breathing heavily into the crook of her neck, as if they were the only two in the room.

  “Can you handle more?” he whispered, breaking character.

  “I can handle as much as you give me, Master,” she replied, kissing the top of his head. “Give it all to me.”

  He continued holding her to him as one of the men worked a lubed finger into her ass and began fucking her with it. She squirmed on Sawyer’s lap, eager to be filled with two cocks.

  “Stop moving,” he ordered roughly.

  Breathing deep, she somehow stifled the urge to move up and down on Sawyer’s hard cock, instead concentrating on pleasing her Master.

  She rested her head on Sawyer’s shoulder as one finger became two and then three. Sawyer tilted himself backward, rolling her with him then resting the upper part of his back against the wall.

  Lube poured down her crack and a hand pressed against her spine right before she felt the stretch and burn of a cock entering her ass. Minutes ticked by as the stranger worked his thickness as far as he could go.

  The man behind her groaned loudly, his body quaking. “Yeah, give it to me. Fill me up.”

  Startled, she opened her eyes. Sawyer’s lips turned up in a little grin. “You’re not the only middle in this sandwich. Look over your shoulder.”

  Following his suggestion, she saw Oz behind her and another man behind him. The idea of the dominant Oz being topped by another man sent a wave of heat flowing over her. When a pierced cock appeared in front of her face and she took it in her mouth, she realized Rowan was the one in Oz’s ass.

  Slowly, the men began to move, pushing her pussy onto Sawyer then her ass back onto Oz while Hunter fucked her mouth.

  It was dirty.

  Naughty.

  Depraved.

  And she loved every fucking second of it.

  The men moved like a unit, their experience with ménage apparent from their silent communication and the ease with which they thrust and retreated in perfect harmony. It was a sinful dance she never wanted to end.

  Her nipples, still aching from the clamps, brushed against Sawyer’s sweaty chest, and each time she was thrust forward, her clitoris grazed his pubic bone. She held onto him like he was her anchor in a windstorm and if she let go, she’d blow away, never to be found again. Her body was on fire, as if hot lava coursed through her veins.

  She could feel Sawyer’s heart beating against her chest. They breathed in sync. Together, they were one.

  One heart.

  One mind.

  One soul.

  He’d trusted her with his deepest, darkest pain and proven that she could trust him with the same. He loved her enough to give her this fantasy, to share her with his friends without judgment or jealousy.

  It was time to trust him with more than her body. He deserved to know the truth. She had to have faith that once he learned that truth, he’d still love her and love her enough to keep her secret.

  Her belly quivered as the muscles underneath it tightened, the climax gathering at the base of her spine. Her fingernails dug into Sawyer’s arms as bands of heat wrapped around her middle and squeezed. She was helpless to the sensation growing sharper and more acute by the second, mindless from the carnal pleasure of having these men inside of her.

  They were Sawyer’s closest friends . . . his band of brothers. He was giving them to her as a gift, as a sign of his never-ending devotion and his desire to include her in the family he’d created. Their use of her body signified their acceptance of her into their fold and tethered them in a way only those with this particular kink would understand. They loved her because Sawyer loved her. They would protect her as one of their own.

  She belonged to them all now.

  The climax crashed into her, her body jerking uncontrollably and white lights exploding behind her eyelids. For a moment, they all stilled, allowing her a brief respite before chasing their own orgasms. Hunter came hard, ropes of his come shooting down her throat as he groaned her name. Only seconds later, Oz and Rowan shook with their own releases, although she wasn’t sure which of them achieved it first. Then, staring into her eyes with more love than she would’ve believed possible, Sawyer reached his own climax.

  The fantasy was over, but the reality was only beginning.

  After cleaning her up and getting her into bed, Sawyer slipped under the covers beside her and took her into his arms.

  One by one, her new friends kissed her cheek and thanked her. She rested her head on Sawyer’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

  She’d asked her brother how he’d known when to trust Thea, and he’d answered that he’d just known. She hadn’t understood what he’d meant, but now, she finally did. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt left in her. Sawyer loved her enough to share her with his friends. To other people, that wouldn’t mean anything, but to her, it had meant everything.

  When the front door of their hotel suite closed and only they remained, she propped herself up on her elbow, ready to trust him with the truth. She had nothing to fear.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LISA’S VOICE PIERCED the darkness. “I’m ready to tell you everything. Asa wasn’t thrilled with my decision, but I can’t hold it inside me anymore, and you deserve to know the whole truth.”

  Sawyer rolled over and turned on the lamp. He sat up and settled against the headboard. “Whatever you say, I promise not to judge you.”

  She believed him.

  She trusted him.

  Shifting to rest her head on his chest, she exhaled a shaky breath as she recalled the terror of her childhood. “My first memory is from when I was three years old. I was with my family, and we were at some county fair. Everything was so exciting. The rides that whirled around and around. Laughing families. Scents of the fried foods coming from the stands. I was barefoot, wearing a pretty blue dress and a matching ribbon in my hair. My parents had me sit at a picnic table and told me they’d be back in a few minutes. They took Asa and Mitch with them. I sat there all day in the hot sun. Thirsty. Hungry. My skin burning. I watched as kids ate hot dogs and drank lemonade and went on the rides. Everyone was happy. I didn’t leave that table, even when I had to pee so badly that I ended up soiling my underwear. I worried if I left, they’d never find me again. When they finally came back at dusk, my brothers were all sticky with ice cream stains on their shirts and my parents’ pockets were stuffed with cash they’d managed to pickpocket. That was the first time I realized we weren’t like other families. Most of the time, we lived in the back of a truck, because we could park it in different lots and no one thought too much about it.”

  Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, the pain in her heart excruciating. For years, she’d refused to think about those early memories of abuse and neglect. She’d filed them in a locked drawer somewhere in her mind. Now that she had unlocked that drawer, the memories crashed into
her consciousness, making her body tremble and her heart race as if she was watching a slasher film. But unlike watching a scary movie, she couldn’t escape the images when she closed her eyes.

  Sawyer brushed his hand up and down her arm. “It’s okay, baby. You can keep going. I’m here.”

  She tilted her head up to look into his eyes. “My family perfected the art of grifting. According to my Dad, I come from a long line of con artists on both sides. He made it seem like a privilege.” She frowned, realizing how silly that was. “It was a long time before I understood that what we did was wrong. It was my normal. By the time I was six, I got to help them with their cons, and by junior high, I had my own swindles going.”

  Nothing that would get her into too much trouble. She mostly sold candy bars at a premium under the guise of the money going to charity—only she was the charity.

  Continuing, she sat up and reclined next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. “Obviously, we had to move around a lot to evade the authorities. You’d think we’d have lived well, but turns out, my parents had a bit of a gambling problem. The money we earned from our cons was usually in the bookies’ hands by the end of the football games on Sunday night.”

  So much money gone in the blink of an eye because of their greed and selfishness. The high they got from gambling was more important than feeding their children. Most Sundays would end with her hiding under the trailer to escape the beating that would follow the games.

  There were hundreds of stories to tell, and someday, she’d share them all with him. But right now, she needed him to know the worst of it. “After my mom died, my dad told me it was time to perform the same sort of cons she did. I was only fifteen at the time, so Asa convinced him to let me wait until I turned eighteen.” She swallowed, her throat growing thick and tight. “That’s when I started using sex as a weapon.”

  She hadn’t been a virgin by then, but all the same, the first time she’d slept with a mark, she’d gotten physically ill afterward. That’s when she learned to dissociate her mind from her body. When she was with her marks, she was no longer Annaliese Hunt. She was whoever they wanted her to be. Somehow that had made it easier.