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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

VALE

Nash ties the strip in a blindfold over my eyes. I can smell his victim’s sweat on it.

I gasp as Nash lifts me in his arms. Draped over them, I wrap mine around his neck as he carries me up two flights. At the top of the stairs, I sense him turning right toward the demonstration room, and I stifle my disappointment we didn’t turn left toward the secret meeting room.

“That’s for your initiation.” He reads my mind. “Tonight? We test you in here.”

In a fast movement, Nash shifts me, his hands cupping my ass, as I sense him walking me back before carefully setting me down. The surface is cool and pillowy, sagging a bit at my weight.

The sex swing.

It’s not a cheap one made of thin straps. It’s a high-end swing made for ultimate comfort. It has a small black swinging bed, fluffy loops for feet or thighs, and a trapeze bar to grab, all dangling from the ceiling on a suspension chain.

I’ve never used it. But Stacey and her husbands crave showing customers how much they love it and each other.

“Stay here,” Nash orders. “I need to wash my hands.”

I hear his footfalls and trust he’ll return. Unlike the father who abandoned me, Nash comes back. Unlike the man who hurt me, Nash never will.

For all the books I’ve read about sex and love, my emotions can’t be contained in words. You have to feel this, not just define it, to believe it.

After a few minutes, I melt into the soft swing, hearing Nash’s return.

“What now?” I ask, sensing his approach, thrill skittering through my veins.

“First.” His clean, cool fingertips brush my heated cheek. “Tell me again you want this.”

“Nash,” I rush, “I love you. If you need proof, I want this; the fact that I’m not kicking you in the balls right now is it.”

“On that note, poison.” He secures my legs in the straps. “Let’s get these ball kickers out of the way.”

I’m splayed open and curious. “Just tell me who’s coming tonight.”

“ You .”

I can hear his smirk.

“No, who’s going to be here? Who will touch me and … what else will they do?”

“No one kisses you,” he insists. “They won’t fuck you, either. They won’t go anywhere near your mouth or pussy or?—”

“What’s left?” I chuckle.

“Touch,” he growls. “That’s what I told them I’ll allow.” His lip curls. “If you consent.”

“Will you be touching me, too?” I reach, trying to find him in my darkness, and his hand wraps around mine.

His lips kiss my palm, his words promising, “I’ll make sure you love it and pass the test. I want you as my queen and wife, Vale, whatever it takes.”

He snaps open the crotch on my bodysuit, tucking the ends out of the way. With my legs hoisted high in straps, I’m vulnerable and exposed to him, and I love it.

I can sense we’re alone in the room, but then I hear the din of deep voices entering the home two floors below. Heavy footsteps and clicks of high-heels ascend the stairs as a sudden wet tongue licks my exposed cunt.

“Oh god,” I cry out.

“They’re going to watch…” Nash bites the inside of my thighs. He must be kneeling between them. “How hard I make you come.” He barely licks my slit. “How many times I make you do it.” And licks again. “How you belong to me.” Then licks harder. “Don’t you, poison?”

He spanks my sensitive clit, making me jump, crying out, “Yes!”

Nash works his magic mouth. With five licks over my sensitive hood, he gets me ready, anticipating. He stops and blows cool air over my clit before hotly kissing it, over and over, making the tension build, making it hard and ache for more, his slick slurps driving me mad.

The sounds of heavy feet enter the room with voices hushed.

Nash pulls my little lips apart, the hood of my clit retreating, exposing it, making it rouse to the air. Deep sighs of admiration excite me even more as Nash shows our audience my screaming wet cunt.

“Look at what’s mine,” he demands.

His possession lifts my hips in this shameless display. I moan, adding to my submissive show. “Yes, my king, I’m yours.” I clench my walls, making my sex pulse for anyone watching.

“Damn, her pussy is pretty.” I hear a deep voice admiring my powerful cunt. I think it’s Sire.

“Show them again,” Nash orders with husky control. “Show them how your tight, little pussy milks my cock fucking dry.”

I do it again, clenching and moaning, needing Nash’s mouth, his cock, his anything as he taunts, “See how she’s such a good girl for me? Always so wet and ready.”

He rewards me. Sliding two fingers inside my cunt, his tongue licks my clit in every direction I can’t anticipate, making me beg with a sudden urge, “Nash, please. I need to come.”

“Let her come.” It’s a woman’s voice in a sexy accent I don’t recognize.

Nash curls his fingers inside my walls, his devotion to my clit unrelenting while the heat of bodies surrounds me, heavy breaths of huge men admiring my pussy.

“Oh god,” I cry out. Loving and needing. Lusting and demanding. “Please, Daddy. Please show them what a good girl I am for you.”

“My, my.” I hear another deep voice praise. “She is a good girl for you, Nash.”

It’s Axel, and suddenly, his annoying tone is arousing and smoky with desire. What he must see—Nash on his knees, his mouth feasting on my pussy—gets me off even more.

“Show them, my poison.” Nash’s fingers start pounding hard into my sex, making my walls clench tight to release. “Show them you’re mine.”

With a brutal, puckering suck of my clit, Nash makes me scream, fisting the pillow of the swing as my orgasm crashes through me, his fingers and mouth not stopping as I cry out, shuddering and twisting on the suspended platform with another sweet spasm.

“She’s beautiful.” I hear Wren whisper.

“ You’re beautiful.” I hear Sire reply before the sound of a zipper being dragged down adds to their lustful exchange.

“This is your test, Vale.” Axel’s now arousing voice tempts my left ear. “You’ll be loved by Nash, but you’ll belong to us. If you want our protection, you must prove you trust us.” Fingertips, they must be Axel’s, linger down my shoulder, toward my breast. “Starting tonight.”

“Get your—” Nash snarls before, “Brother, you have to trust us, too,” Jace calms him.

“We’d never hurt her.”

That’s Grant. Relief fills me that he’s here; a little shyness, too.

Let’s face it. You can’t go from sharing friendship to a naughty fuckshow overnight without a little dose of awkwardness.

But it’s cured as Nash caresses my thigh, his voice strained with ire. “How are we doing, poison?”

“Good,” I huff happily, “and very horny for you.”

Wren sighs, “Same.”

The sound of shuffling bodies and shifting clothes fills the air while I feel Nash stand and settle between my thighs. The seductive sound of him dragging his zipper down makes me softly gasp. The knowledge his pants are splattered with blood shed over me makes me ache for him.

If that’s fucked up, I’m too in love to care.

Nash teases his velvet tip over my sensitive clit, making all my shyness evaporate, leaving nothing but my hunger for him. “Please, Nash,” I beg. “Do it. Fuck me. Show them I want to be your queen.”

“ You show us, too,” Axel corrects, “not just him.”

The brush of Axel’s fingertip over the swell of my breast makes Nash drive inside me. “She’s mine,” he growls, holding my hips, swinging me toward him as he buries himself so deep, his claim is undeniable.

I arch, moaning at his penetration.

I love it as Axel argues, “No, brother, she’s ours , too.” He swings me back toward him, his fingers tugging at my bodice. “Isn’t that right, Vale? You want to be his and ours?”

“Yes,” I groan at Nash’s next brutal thrust, yanking me toward him, his hands gripping my hips so hard, I’ll earn the bruises I love, too.

“Do you consent ?” Axel urges, his touch waiting above my breast, and he doesn’t sound dirty, degrading, or even demeaning.

No, it sounds like consent is Axel’s highest value. His one true law. The principle he fights and kills for.

Consent: it’s not where Axel comes from; none of his brothers do. What a haunting legacy to be born with, so now they give it to others. It’s what they need from me, too.

“Yes.” I heard it in his voice. I trust it. I want it. “You can touch me, but only Nash can love me.”

“I can ,” Axel presses, “or do you want us to touch you? Tell us. We’ll honor it.”

Nash is silent, letting the smacks of his cock pumping in and out of my open cunt, fill the room. What he must see from where he stands between my thighs, claiming what’s his but asking me to trust his brothers, allowing them to pleasure me, too? He must be wrestling with his demons and desire for this.

The urge to ask for Nash’s consent fills my mouth, too, but then he moves his hand off my hip, his thumb circling my clit, pleasure sparking through my nerves, and I know it. I feel it. He’s telling me…

I want this. I need this for us.

The admission will never fall from his possessive and panting mouth, so I answer for us, “Yes, I want it. I command you all to touch me.”

“Yes, our queen,” Axel praises before I feel the yanking tear of the tissue-thin fabric connecting my sleeves to my bodice. Axel tugs it down, revealing my ample breasts. My nipples are immediately aroused to be exposed to the others.

“Fuck,” Nash growls, his powerful thrusts matching the tempo of his thumb circling harder over my sensitive nub. The rousing pleasure he’s giving me reveals it’s his too.

This is his kink . This is the part he didn’t want to admit to me. It’s taboo and everything he desires, and I want it, too.

“Touch them,” I demand with an ache in my nipples, my breasts bouncing in cadence with Nash’s thrusts. “Touch what belongs to my king.”

A warm, calloused hand surprises me on my right. Axel’s on my left. Nash is between my thighs. I don’t know where the others are in the room, but someone else obeys me. He gently cups my breast, making Nash groan. I swear I can feel his cock swelling even more.

“Beautiful.” It’s Sire, his pontificating voice distinct. “She’s so beautiful, Nash.”

“Yes, she is.” It’s Wren, her voice panting in concert with Sire’s.

“Do you like this, my queen?” Sire fondles my breast as he taunts Wren, “Do you like me touching her breast for you? Do you like us getting her off for you?”

“Yes, my king.” Wren’s tiny voice resonates with undeniable lust. The swing shakes like Wren is grabbing its side, too.

Oh my god, Sire is fucking her. After the nights we’ve spent in their guestroom, I know the sounds of their lust.

“Yes, touch her,” Wren urges. “Pinch her nipple while you pinch mine, too.”

“Oh, my filthy angel.” I hear Sire before he obeys her. With his gentle pinch, clamping down on my bouncing nipple, I groan.

“Goddamn,” Nash snarls, slowing his thrusts.

He’s too aroused by what he sees. He’s fighting for control. I know his body too well now.

“She likes it,” Sire taunts Wren, “just like you. You’re so wet watching a king fuck his queen. Stand with your little legs together. Good girl. Make that little pussy even tighter for me to fuck.”

“Damn, my queen.” I hear another deep groan. It’s Grant. I’ve heard his carnal lust too many times at the club not to know his grizzly growl. “Yes, fuck that pussy with your fingers while you suck my cock. You were a good doll for me this week. You’ve earned it.”

I don’t know who Grant’s with, but it must be the other queen.

“Yes, my king.” It’s Wren sighing near my ear while Sire pinches my nipple, and Nash fills me with his cock, his fingers taunting my clit.

I don’t know the rules; I just know I love this. I don’t need to see it to want it. To feel like I belong to something forbidden and fiercely defended. To sense its history and bond. There’s a reason this is an ancient ritual. It transcends time and taboo. It’s how we survive. It’s how love survives.

“They all approve.” I hear Axel on my left, praising as Nash drags his length out, leaving me open and dripping, streams of my lust puddling on the soft leather beneath me.

Axel still hasn’t touched me; my left breast aches for his praise and pinch, too.

“But does he approve?” Nash asks and…

Who? Who is he asking about?

“Yes.” Jace’s voice sounds on my left. He must be standing beside Axel. “We’d be honored if she became our queen.”

“Prove it,” Nash orders, pressing his swollen tip against my waiting entrance. I moan at his tease. “Prove to us you can be her second.”

Nash’s tone isn’t taunting; it’s flooded with doubt.

Why? Why would he doubt Jace?

“You’ll fucking kill me.” Jace doesn’t sound scared. He sounds sure.

“Do it, and I won’t.” Nash urges inside me. “Help make her my queen. I need her. I fucking love her.”

I’m right here, and I’m not. I’m everywhere else with Nash, too. I’m in our past when he felt ashamed of his desire for me. I’m in the years and all the sweet, infuriating ways he proved his secret love for me. Love we couldn’t have. Love we’ve had to deny. Love that left us lonely too many times.

Now, we can have this, but we can’t do it alone.

We need Jace.

“Here.” A big, warm hand gently lifts my left one. It’s Jace. I know his caring touch. With the sound of another zipper being dragged down, Nash thrusts inside me, moans escaping my throat as my hand is wrapped around the stiff shaft of Jace’s erection. Fuck, he’s thick. He guides my hand, stroking it over his cock. “This is your hard proof,” he boasts. “If I need to, I can take care of her, too.”

“Oh, my god,” I sigh at the trust and taboo. What’s forbidden falls away as Jace pumps my hand over his cock, and Nash claims my pussy with his.

“Suck her nipple.” I hear Wren beg Sire, “Please, suck her nipple and make me come.”

“Fuck.” Nash is thrusting harder, faster.

“Shit.” The gravel tenor of Jace’s voice trembles, his hefty cock swelling in my grasp.

Sire’s mouth clamps down, his weight shifting with Wren’s, straining the swing, too. He must be fucking her from behind, letting her watch his mouth suck my nipple.

“Fuck,” Nash huffs again. “Fuck.” He strums my clit harder. “You love this, don’t you, poison? You’re so fucking wet and swollen. You love being so goddamn dirty for me, for us, don’t you?”

Nash is taking me there. He knows it. I’m shaking for it, arching for it, gasping for it. “Yes, Mr. Allen. Yes, Daddy, I’m your dirty girl.”

“Hmm,” Sire moans at our kink with my nipple in his mouth.

“Shit!” Jace grunts as I grip his cock so tight. “Shit, I’m coming.” His hot seed spills over my hand, thick streams running down my wrist and splattering my breast.

“Vale, do you want to be Mr. Allen’s queen?” Axel taunts my ear. “Do you want to be our queen, too?” He’s not judging our kink; he’s indulging it.

For years, Axel has known about our love and wants it. He wants my ultimate consent for Nash. My past and present collide as I scream for our future, “Yes! Yes!”

“Then be my good girl.” It’s Nash, dragging me over my edge. “Let them watch your pretty pussy come on my cock.” He pinches my clit, and I fall into my deep orgasm, convulsing with a shameless groan as Nash pounds his cock inside me, making it last and last.

He grunts, “Fuck yes, baby, milk me,” as my walls pulse and clench, claiming his orgasm, too.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Wren is going, too. She’s yanking the swing so hard. I feel Sire tugging it too, all while Nash grunts, his final hard thrusts primal, bestial, and brutal and…

“Oh shit!”

It’s so sudden, and I’m blind. I don’t know what’s happening as I fall even more. Not into my orgasm but onto the floor with Nash collapsing over me with a loud clank.

“Oh shit!” Jace shouts again. “We broke the swing.”

“You okay?” Nash huffs.

“Yeah.”

Axel laughs. It’s an odd sound from his voice. “Guess I lost my deposit.”

“What the hell?” I struggle with Nash on top of me. “How did we—” I move to take off my blindfold, but Nash stops me.

“Wait, poison. You can’t see us yet.”

He holds it over my eyes while I protest, “I don’t need my sight to see how I’m about to get fired for breaking the swing.”

“Everyone, go.” Jace assures, “We got this.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Wren’s voice on my right sounds worried but about to giggle.

“Yes.” Okay, it’s funny. “I’m fine and fucked and fired.”

“Stacey will never fire you.” It’s Grant. “You and Blair are like her little sisters. Just tell some lie, and you’ll be fine.” He mumbles, “Come on, my chérie.”

Chérie? Who the hell is his queen, and since when is Grant French? I’m just barely coming to terms with the fact that he’s ex-Russian mafia.

Footsteps scurry by as Axel orders, “You and Jace come up with something.”

Axel must be speaking to me, so I shout at the ceiling. “I’m going to slap you so hard, even Google won’t be able to find you! Take off my blindfold!”

“Seriously,” Nash worries, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I push against his sweaty pecs. “I’m fine.” He’s left me dripping, empty, and about to laugh. Or cry. Or both. “Just let me see the damage.”

Slowly, Nash peels off the blindfold, and I blink until I can focus, glancing from side to side.

On my right, everyone is gone. Sire. Wren. Grant and his chérie and what other members of Congress heard my slutty testimony. I have no idea.

On my left, my gaze climbs from Axel’s polished black shoes to his dark pants, his starched white shirt, open and revealing lots of hot ink, and his … evil smirk.

So, I stick my tongue out at him.

Then my stare bounces over to Jace, dressed similarly, his cock deflated and tucked back in, while his smile is warm. I’m not even shy that his cum is on my tit, so I blow him a kiss.

Then my gaze lands on Nash, who’s slinging his sunshine with his stunning smile. His eyes sparkle with mischief and love—love only for me.

Laughter bubbles through my declaration. “We crushed the test!”