Page 2

CHAPTER 2

E lle

I tried fruitlessly to create a neutral face, convinced I must be drooling. The effect of both these gorgeous guys up close was frying my brain.

“This is Candy Cane. The sub I was telling you about. Candy, this is Simon.”

I smiled at him, regretting the stupid name now as it sounded daft. Simon’s gaze roved over me like a caress, and a spark flew up my arms when he gripped my hand and kissed my knuckles.

“Pleased to meet you, Candy. So you got a night with our infamous Genie.”

My smile widened, slightly overwhelmed by their dual focus. The live wire feeling was back. I glanced between them and only managed a nod.

“Words, little one, words.” Simon’s voice turned strict, and my nipples pebbled in my dress.

“Yes.” I held his gaze, and my usual sass rose to the surface. “I got a buy one, get one free deal too.”

“Brat.” His eyes smouldered into mine.

Gene cleared his throat and produced an iPad from nowhere.

“I want you to review your limits. Simon and I have checked them over.” He passed me the tablet, and I looked over the familiar questionnaire, the fine hairs on my arms rising.

Just filling in that list for Gene opened up possibilities that had me reaching for my vibrator. I had to Google some terms, but none of them put me off. He only created an intense curiosity to explore this and relief that maybe I wasn’t a freak like my ex called me. Perhaps I’d found people who were kinkier than me, and I was eager to learn everything. I finally wanted to feel like myself. I was waging a one-woman sexual revolution!

“Nothing has changed,” I said when I finished scanning.

“These are for Simon and me.” He swiped through to the questionnaires for them both.

I scanned them. There wasn’t much in the hard limits.

“Gene doesn’t kiss, but it’s not a limit for me,” Simon said as I passed the iPad back.

“You’ve requested we lead the scene where we believe you would enjoy going without knowing all the specifics beforehand,” Gene said.

Gene had been meticulous about consent and safety in our discussions – perhaps the thing that made me most comfortable. There was no coercion. We talked everything through and agreed on each possible detail. We brainstormed scenes, and most things sounded amazing.

“Yes, I want the anticipation.”

None of my exes were ever creative enough to surprise me, and running through all the options with Gene was like trying to choose from an expensive restaurant menu when you’ve just been told everything is free. I wanted someone else to decide.

“Remind me of your safe word and the check-in.”

“Green is, I’m fine, amber for a pause and red or… Grinch for stop.” I cringed.

Gene said red was enough, but I could have another safe word if I wanted. In my exuberance, I chose something silly, and now, sitting in front of these intense guys, it sounded very childish.

“Look at me,” Simon said.

I glanced up, expecting disgust.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Open communication is an adjustment initially, but you never need to fear ridicule.”

Was I that transparent? I shook myself. Tonight was a fantasy come to life, so I squared my shoulders to show that I was ready.

“It’s fine. I’ll get used to it.”

“Good girl,” Simon murmured, and my system zinged to life.

Gene made me repeat the words as I held their gaze. It gave me a strange sense of power. In my bones, I knew they would stop if I asked them. Gene was calm, but Simon’s gaze, although controlled, held more heat.

Was I really going to shag both of them? Hells yes! Early Christmas present for me.

“Have you been a good girl this year, Candy?” Gene leaned in and whispered in my ear.

“Maybe,” I hedged, thinking about all my foul language and sometimes extended borrowing of clothes samples.

Gene smirked. Standing, he extended his palm. “Let’s show you around and get you comfortable.”

I stood and smoothed out my dress, not bothering to finish my wine. Gene’s warm hand spanned my lower back, and Simon flanked me on the other side. Something inside my chest fluttered. We drew a few eyes as we walked across the large room.

The corridor was cooler than the lounge with its roaring fires, and as we moved further into the big house, the paintings grew gradually more erotic.

“This is the Garden Room.” Gene indicated double doors to the right, with a plaque labelling it. “The various rooms are open to move between, but only when the light above the door is green.”

We explored further, and he showed me the doors to the Sun and Moon Rooms, explaining the types of activities that tended to go on in each. Apparently, you chose a particular room for the night based on your preferences or needs.

We ascended a spiral staircase, and my fingers tingled as I touched a hand to the polished wooden bannister. Arriving on the first floor, I tried to control my erratic heartbeat.

“These are all individual rooms. Guests book them for periods. We are in this one tonight.”

He opened a heavy-panelled door to a lushly decorated space. The four-poster bed drew my eye, and the stocking attached to the bottom of the bed made me shiver. The room was decorated for Christmas. Simon walked further inside, and I noticed a cross attached to the wall and a sex swing. Various objects sat on top of a dresser; some I recognised, a flogger, a cane and some cuffs, others I didn’t. A full-body quiver wracked me, and I pulled my eyes away.

“Colour?” Gene asked, and I realised his dark eyes had seen my reaction. “We’ll be checking in regularly.”

“Green.”

So fucking green . I wanted to yell. I was a loudmouth by nature but felt out of my element with Gene. Like my snarky personality had curled up for the night, resigned to leave me to it.

Simon strode over to a comfy armchair near the Christmas tree. Moonlight spilt in from the adjacent window, adding to the festive glow.

“On the bed are some clothes. Change into them and get into bed. I will change, but Simon will stay here and watch you. He will watch until it’s time to join in.”

Watch me change. Watch us. My breathing hitched, and a wicked smile spread across Simon’s face.

“What is your safe word?” Simon asked.

“Grinch. Red,” I said automatically.

“To slow or pause?”

“Amber.”

“Continue?”

“Green.”

“Good girl,” he said, and the heat rose at his words again.

He leaned back and spread his knees like some resplendent god. He could easily model with the level of presence he had.

“Get dressed. I’ll be back.” Gene disappeared through the door opposite the main one.

I dropped my gaze from Simon’s and walked toward the bed. Laid out was a top made of black netting and a cute pair of silky, pink pyjama bottoms with candy canes on them. A note on top held two simple commands.

No underwear. Loose hair.

Excitement raced through me as I let my shoulder-length curly hair down and slipped out of my dress. Simon’s eyes burned into my back as I bent and slipped my black thong off.

“Turn.” His command lashed at my senses, and I swallowed thickly.

Turning, I was acutely aware I had a black bra and heels on but nothing else.

His eyes roved all over me, and he rose from his chair. “May I?”

He held out his hand, and I passed him the sleep shorts, a tremble in my arm giving me away.

He knelt in front of me. “Lift.” He tapped my leg.

I lifted it, and he leaned forward, inhaling as he slipped the soft material over my foot. Tapping the other, he made me raise it as he hooked the other side on. Torturously slowly, grazing my outer thighs, he pulled them up. The heat in his eyes as he looked up scorched through me, drenching my pussy. No one had ever stared at me with such intensity. Once the shorts were in place, his fingers briefly gripped my hips, and then he stood again and reached around, unclipping my bra. Slowly he pulled the bra down, and the material rubbed against my hard nipples as it fell away, causing me to suck in a breath.

Somehow, I felt even more naked now, and the heat blazing off his shirt fuelled the fire. My senses were full of his musky scent, and my shorts were already damp.

“So pretty.” He skimmed his fingers across the underside of my breasts.

He leaned down, and I held my breath, waiting for him to take a nipple into his mouth, but he snatched up the top from the bed behind me.

Air puffed out of me. I’d never been this wound up. He stretched the neckline and drew it down over my head. The elastic netting glided over my skin as I pushed my arms through. Each netting hole caught on my straining peaks as he extended it down over my tummy. When it finally settled into place, my engorged nipples stuck through the material obscenely.

“Such a perfect combination of naughty and nice.” He stepped away, and I swayed towards him, catching myself at the last minute.

“Shoes off and into bed. Santa won’t visit unless you are a good girl.” He turned and walked away, leaving me panting.