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Kane pulled a familiar white tube from his pocket and placed it on the table. His voice went low and rough, “Do you need something to drop your inhibitions a little?”
Claire bit her lip, remembering the potent effects of the cream and how she'd behaved like an insatiable slut the previous day under its influence. That cream had given her the permission to feel all the things she needed to feel, its demands so much louder than her mind's constant chattering about how wrong everything was.
She wanted to feel those things again. So badly. She wanted that blissful sexual oblivion that left no room in her mind for talking herself out of the pleasures she needed.
Without conscious thought, she pulled back the robe, letting her legs fall open. “Yes, Sir.”
He squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers and spread it over her sex which was already becoming aroused just from anticipation of what the cream could do. She gasped as his fingers pushed inside her.
“Starting without me?”
Claire looked up to find Ari standing next to the kitchen island, a transparent blue hair clip in his hand.
“Master, I'm sorry,” she said.
She tried to bring her legs together and pull the robe closed, but Kane held her still. He finally pulled his hand away slowly, deliberately—the opposite of someone caught with his hands in the cookie jar. He didn't care that they were caught.
“Did you want him to touch you?” Ari asked.
Claire looked down. She couldn't lie with Kane sitting right here to call her on it. “Yes, Master,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“Then you have nothing to apologize for. As long as you're okay, Kane hascarte blanche, as I do with his pet. Kane and I share... everything.”
“Not everything,” Kane said. “He won't let me fuck him.”
Claire gasped, but Kane only chuckled. She looked up to find Ari rolling his eyes.
“I'm pretty sure Marcus would object. He doesn't seem the type who wants to share with other men.”
Kane just smiled. “Are we ready then?” He nudged Claire, and she got off his lap, pulling the bathrobe around her, going shy again. She was grateful that wouldn't be a problem much longer. If yesterday was any indication, in a few minutes she wouldn't care what anybody thought about anything, only that they were touching her and didn't stop.
“Go to the playroom, Claire, and wait for us. We should be there before the cream kicks in, but if not, don't touch yourself until we arrive,” Ari said.
Claire nodded and left the kitchen, grateful to be allowed a short reprieve from the two of them to collect herself.
The playroom had been rearranged. Bondage furniture had been moved along one wall, allowing a large open space near the window where the bright morning light shone in. One of the large fluffy rugs had been rolled up and moved next to the furniture. A plastic drop cloth was laid out over a large section of hardwood the rug had previously covered. And on top of that was an easel that held a large canvas. There was a chair and paints and brushes and a palette—all the normal things one would expect an artist to have. A small CD player sat on the floor, plugged into an outlet nearby.
The door opened, and the two men walked in. Ari sat on the sofa at the back of the room. He laid the hair clip on the leather beside him.
Kane took a step closer to her. She took a step back.
“Claire,” he said gently. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
“If you need him to stop anything he's doing, sayRed,” Ari said. “Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Master.” Claire let out a breath. He was giving her a safeword to use with his friend. She might not have ever explored her fantasies outside her mind before Ari, but there was this magical invention called the internet, through which she'd learned all sorts of things over the years.
Lots of people acting out their kinks used weird ridiculous things for safewords likeblueberry sconeorfiretruck. It had to be something you wouldn't otherwise yell out during sex. It couldn't beno, please no, because sometimes in play, no didn't mean no. So it had to be something stupid and unsexy that would break the mood. Red, Green, Yellow was a standard system a lot of people used.
Kane took another step toward her, and this time she didn't retreat. He held her gaze as he untied the belt on the bathrobe and slid the terrycloth off her shoulders. It hit the floor in a whoosh.
Then he closed his eyes and started to touch her, his hands memorizing each curve, and not just the naughty ones—the day-to-day G-rated ones as well. The curve at the side of her nose, the gentle curve inside her elbow. The flare of her hip. She closed her eyes, taken under by this spell until what had been merely hypnotic became cruel teasing.
“Please, Sir,” she whimpered, thrusting her hips obscenely toward him.
Kane only chuckled. “I see our special cream has kicked in. Ari,” he called over his shoulder. “Have you started training her ass yet?”
This question caused Claire to open her eyes, though the heightening arousal between her legs softened any alarm that phrase might have normally caused.
