A Double Dose of Billionaire - Part 2

“I forgot to make him return the keys to my apartment,” I said, trying to ignore the sultry grin Ryan had. “And he camped there like he owned the place. He brought some whore to my place, too. I found some condoms in my trash can and another woman’s underwear.”

“You shouldn’t let other men into your home. It’s dangerous.” He walked closer and engulfed my lips with his. I could feel his possessiveness through his touch. His fingers entangled themselves in my hair as he dove his tongue deeper down my throat.

I doubted he heard a single word I said about my ex-boyfriend and how much I detested that moron. All he tried to do now was to have me all to himself, or at least that’s how it felt.

“We need to teach you a lesson,” Ryan said, breaking the kiss.

Riley stepped out of his office, wearing a look of amusement as he studied us.

***

Riley and Ryan acted strangely during the ride back, sharing questionable glances. I didn’t speak or inquire too much, because each sentence of mine merely received a curt reply, promptly ending my sad attempt at conversation and creating an experience of uncomfortable awkwardness.

When we arrived home, we didn’t head up straight to the bedroom, as we usually did. Confused, I let them lead me down the stairs to the basement.

“What are we going to the basement for?” I asked.

Riley swept me up with his strong, taut arms. “You don’t speak until we ask you to.”

Oh, so we were playing that game now. Excitement coiled in my lower stomach. Over the past week, I discovered I loved it when the twins got into their moods. They became incredibly masculine and commanded my submission.

And I enjoyed disobeying them—their ‘punishments’ could sometimes be quite delightful. “Why?” I stared up at Riley with faked naiveté.

A smile reached his eyes, although his lips didn’t part. “You know very well why.”

A wooden, red door waited for us at the bottom of the stairwell. The door was locked by a digital keypad; Ryan tapped the numbers needed to unlock it. I was feeling too turned on to care what the numbers were. My insides swelled with desire.

I looked past the door half-expectantly when Ryan revealed the room. I was guessing they had brought me to the rumored ‘naughty room’, but at first glance, nothing naughty stood out. The place was stylishly-lined with black and red baroque wallpaper. A long, slender couch greeted us at the entrance of the room—nothing particularly jarring.

Then, Riley carried me in and turned left.

I wasn’t sure whether I should’ve been aroused or afraid.

The bedpost was the largest object in the room, so I noticed it first. It had strange contraptions attached to it, ropes of all shapes and colors dangling from its sides and top. An uncomfortable-looking chair with decorative, blunt spikes stood next to the bedpost; chains were attached to its bottom, and what looked like a vibrator rested on it.

And then, there was that machine—a metal object with leather strap-ons and a dildo at one end.

I sure hoped I wasn’t going to use that today.

Fear should’ve shocked me into speechlessness, but instead, I looked up at Riley and said, “What the f**k is wrong with you guys?”

He held his breath and narrowed his eyes at me. “Remember what we said about speaking?”

“I know, but I need a pause. Please.”

He lowered his shoulders and put me down next to the couch. “What is it?” He sounded impatient. I was getting impatient, too, feeling hot and bothered ever since Ryan mentioned teaching me a lesson, but we needed to discuss boundaries before doing anything I’d regret.

I paced back and forth with my hands on my hi**ps while I thought about what I was and wasn’t willing to do. I shifted my eyes to the metal monstrosity.

“Anything but that,” I said, pointing to the machine.

Ryan smirked, amused by my response. “That’s it?”

“And, maybe, we can avoid those hanging ropes, for now. It looks painful.”

They were grinning, happy with the way I reacted. “Ropes and machine. Got it. We weren’t intending on those anyway. Anything else?”

I tapped my fingers on my jaw. “Don’t we need a safe word or something? Something to say when I’ve had enough?”

Riley shrugged. “We usually use ‘fluffy bunny’.”

Amused, I lifted a brow. “What kind of code is that?” I asked, refraining from giggling.

“You won't be accidentally uttering that during sex, and it’s a total turn-off.”

“But what if you guys make me wear a bunny suit?”

Riley couldn’t help but smile a little. “It’s not our thing.”