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“I think it should depend on how long it took her to cook the food,” Logan suggests.
“Hmm…” I take the cloth from her hand. “It took…what? One hour?” I throw the rag toward the sink.
“So she should get a reward for one hour,” Las rumbles.
“That’s a lot of time,” I muse. “I wonder what we could spend it doing?”
“I…” she trails off. Her hands flutter over the end of the counter.
“Do you want your reward?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
She swallows. “I like rewards.”
“There are rules,” I mention lightly.
“What?” She leans heavily into the counter.
“We won’t fuck you yet. We want you to be surer of us first. We get to play, though. Everything we do is with your permission. It’s not fun if you are unsure or scared of what we do. If you want it to stop, tell us. We want you to be comfortable. We won’t always be together like tonight. Don’t feel like we have to all be present to have time with each of us. We desire a bond with you, but it will be different with Logan, me, and Las. Never feel bad about being with just one of us. We are dominant men. We like control, but we also love a woman that participates fully.” I take a few steps to her side.
“Your rewards will be all about your pleasure.”
“I like pleasure,” she breathes.
I hold back my laugh—she’s adorable. “We want to give you a bigger taste of what it’s going to be like to be with us, like at the diner.”
“I want that.” She turns with me as I move, and her back hits the end of the counter, her palms cupping the edge. My brothers watch from their seats on the side.
“We want dessert.”
“Dessert?” She frowns. Logan grabs a dry cloth and takes the dampness off the counter.
I dip down, causing her to arch to keep my gaze. “We want to taste…your cakes,” I smirk as understanding dawns. “Leave your hands on the counter,” I instruct.
She nods. “Do you want me to call you Sir?” she asks teasingly.
“You can call us whatever the fuck you want.” I cup her throat and feel her heart speed up. “We don’t demand in that way. If you want to call us Sir, Daddy, or Baby, as long as it comes out of your mouth—it turns us on. Do you like my hand on your throat?”
“Yes,” she moans, and I squeeze slightly.
“Nothing we do will be to harm. Our purpose is to give you the most pleasure possible.” I slide my hand down between her tits and then her stomach, stopping when I reach the button of her jeans. “Do you want us? Do you want us to play with you?”
“Yes,” she answers firmly.
“Do you like praise?” I ask as I unbutton. She shakes her head jerkily. “I want words, baby girl. Do you like being called a good girl? That you did good for your mates?”
“I do,” she says quickly.
I unzip. “I know you will be the best girl for us.” I slip my hand into the opening of her pants, bypassing her panties and hitting my target. “You are so wet, Breeane.” I press on her clit, and she gasps. “Should we let my brothers feel?”
“Please, yes.”
“Good girl,” I praise. I pull my hand, leaving the warm flesh, and grasp the sides of her jeans. I guide them over her ass and down her legs. I leave her panties. I look up at the vision, trembling in need. Her desire-filled scent floats throughout the room. “Fucking stunning, baby.” I use my fingertips to travel up her legs as I stand. “You ready?”
“Yes, very,” she rasps.
I grasp her hips and lift her. “Lay back.” I support her as she does. “Brothers?”
Logan stands. “Beautiful, Sugar.” He rubs his palm over her stomach, bunching her shirt but leaving it on. “Put your heels on the edge.” She doesn’t delay, and I get an even better view.
