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Okay, when Anthony said the handcuffs she had asked him to get were not conventional, she had no idea what she was expecting, but the fully pink fluffy restraints were something else. She was just plain lucky; they just about fit around Henry’s and Asher’s wrists. But she did have to worry if she was going to cut off their blood supply.
She had to transport them to New York, not kill them en route, although she warmed considerably to the idea now.
But it felt as if she were never going to have the upper hand when it came to them because just when she thought she had them secured and was prepared to stay in that position with her knee in Simon’s thigh to keep him in place while she was handcuffed to Henry and Asher, they turned the tables on her again.
She couldn’t stop Henry and Asher from pulling the strategically placed hair pins holding up her tight bun from her hair. She could do less when Simon slid his hand just under her skirt.
The rough heat from his hand scalded her, and her skin there was never going to feel the same, just as the skin on the side of her neck where Asher had whispered against, or her calf where Henry had touched when he removed her shoes... to take her skydiving... as if she had asked for it.
“Stop that,” she ordered them, meaning stop fiddling with her hair and stop touching her skin. But she never stood a chance when, as easily as a blink of an eye, Henry and Asher picked open the locks on the handcuffs. So much for thinking she was safe as long as Anthony had the keys.
How on earth did they know how to pick locks? They were billionaire aristocrats. Never mind. She didn’t want to know.
“Ms. Cohen, we have a proposition to make,” Simon began when she sat back in the seat of the limo opposite them.
“We’ll do what you want. Go to New York. Wear the suits. Attend the party. But we would like very much to know what you feel like on the inside.”
“What does that mean?” she asked softly. For the first time, she was caught off guard, and she had no defense to swing back or stand straight. The cumulation of her entire day—every word they had spoken that had caressed her ears, every breath that they had taken that had whispered against her.
Every accidental or innocent touch of their bodies and the scent of their colognes, so different individually but together combined on her and on her clothes, the result made her body tingly.
For the first time, she had to accept that her nipples had been aching the whole morning. Since she walked into Asher’s penthouse, Henry's aircraft, and Simon’s office.
She could no longer deny that her panties had been wet since seeing Asher, Henry, and Simon.
“It means we want to put our cocks in your body and feel your wall clutch against us. We want to fuck you until you come for us,” Asher said.
“And then we want to fuck you until we empty all our cum inside you. Every last drop. Whether it’s your pussy, your mouth, or your ass,” Henry said.
“It means we’re going to share you, Blakely. All three of our cocks and just little you,” Simon added.
Before she could stop herself, her gaze lowered to their crotches. Their legs spread wide, and she could already see the thick, frightening bulges tenting their pants. She swallowed down her alarm as her pussy contracted involuntarily, and her womb seemed to tighten.
She gave in to the feelings of lightheadedness. To the way her spine melted and her heart beat so fast she ran out of air. Her clit, long since neglected, throbbed, and the folds of her pussy now soaked her panties with fresh wetness.
Focus, Cohen.
She licked her lips, but their collective growls set her back three steps from regaining her composure.
Focus, Cohen.
It was a proposition, they had said, not a marriage proposal. She had to think clearly. She closed her eyes, and immediately, the image of her last, well, only boyfriend flashed through her mind.
Right.
Conjuring Todd Armstrong, in her mind, always did the trick. Her ex kept her straight on the narrow path. She had nothing to worry about.
“If I say yes, you’ll obey me the whole weekend?”
“Except when you’re beneath us. Then we’re in charge.”
“But you’ll behave and make your father happy.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Then you have yourself a deal.” She removed her tablet from her bag and whipped through her calendar, finding it calming amid all the chaos inside her. But no. She had a backup plan that would send them running out of the door in no time. She had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
“I’m afraid the only time I can fit you in—” she said, then realized what she had said. “The only time I’m available is after the party tomorrow night. Will that work for you?”
