“He’s doing this for you, little duck.”
No, no, noooo! I couldn’t stomach more mindfucks. The comfort in Rigger’s voice—and his new nickname—punched a hole in me. Left me raw, left me open, left melittle.
“P-please,” I sobbed. “Please, please, p-please!”
“Please, what?” Rigger dipped down and kissed me on the forehead, and he began brushing my tears away.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” I wailed.
“That’s okay, sweet boy. You don’t have to know a single thing.” He combed his fingers through my hair, sending a shiver through me at the same time as Daddy’s cock brought me suffering. “That’s the beauty of letting go, isn’t it? We will take care of everything.”
I wanted that so much. I didn’t wanna be in control so often. I wanted to serve and please and be a good boy for them. I was desperate to follow rather than lead. I ached to ask for permission instead of having to make rules.
I needed to apologize to my husband…
Good God, what an uphill struggle he’d had with me. He’d seen all this. He’d warned me. He was…essentially the Nathan to my Ash. I’d insisted for so long that everything would be good if we just continued the way we had.
I hadn’t been as against exploring another dynamic as Ash had, but I’d definitely dragged my feet. I’d denied my submissive identity.
I was clearly not done weeping.
Daddy made it easy for me. Rather than striking and spanking, he squeezed me roughly. He kneaded my flesh, he pinched me, he raked his blunt fingernails along my spine, creating a trail of fire. He marked me. I’d wake up with his fingerprints all over me tomorrow.
Next, he was the one who fisted my hair, and he yanked me back toward him.
Ow!
“Do you know what you are now, boy?”
Pitiful? A blubbering mess? In the deep end of the pool without my floaties?
“Ours. Our property. We own you, Jordan.”
Oh my God.
He pulled me back farther and wrapped a hand loosely around my throat, all while forcing his cock in and out of me in shallow thrusts.
It wasn’t supposed to be turning me on when I was in so much pain. I wasn’t that kind of masochist. Mild pain turned me on. The severe kind pissed me off and fueled the prey in me. But here I fucking was, coming alive as Daddy used me.I’m their property.Everything he did, I registered somehow. The smallest twitch of his fingers digging into my skin, the faint hitch in his breath whenever he pushed in, the budding bruises from his grabbing—and then Rigger. He was there too. Grabbing my jaw, kissing me forcefully.
Holy shit, holy shit, I became aware of everything. We were far from alone in the room. I couldn’t bring myself to look, but I heard them. Moans and whimpers. Quiet commands. pleading.This wasn’t just a Finlay or two, or Cam and Master Lucian; it was way more.
The last shred of composure escaped me with a breathless moan, and I threw myself into the sensations ofzero control. I started meeting Daddy’s thrusts, I clung to Rigger, and I felt feverish with need.
“Please,” I begged. “I w-wanna take care of you, Sir. May I suck you, please?”
“There’s our good boy,” Daddy grunted.
“So good,” Rigger whispered into a kiss. “You may, sweet boy.”
This was heaven.
Delirious, delirious heaven.
I didn’t have to make any decisions at all!
Daddy and James became my personal sex swing. They held me up and essentially folded me in half so that Rigger could fuck me without any of my limbs in the way. All I did was take it. I clenched down around him, feeling so freaking full, and stared up at him. He was so powerful and hot and tense. His body glistened. So did mine. So did Daddy’s, but I couldn’t see him at the moment because he was my back pillow. But if I reached up, I could kiss his jaw a little.
Oh, that worked. He smirked down at me and gave me a much better kiss, with tongue and passion and assertiveness. He was in control. I was not. I’d said goodbye to being in charge.
