Delicate Surrender (Club Temptation)

“Not every day,” Sir tells me with a light chuckle. I like the sound. It’s like a melody to my ears. I’ve grown up around music, listening to notes, toying with them and twisting them to suit me. But this man’s voice is something else.

A low, resounding treble—deep and all-encompassing.

“Do you always come into empty playrooms with men you don’t know?” He challenges, and I finally face him. There’s amusement in his expression. A handsome, youthful, yet mature face that I want to feel against my sensitive fingertips.

“Not every day,” I return his response with a smile, and I earn myself a laugh that echoes, bouncing off the walls. It has hummingbirds fluttering a song in my belly. This isn’t my first rodeo as they say, but it’s the first time I’m so enamored with a man.

Most of the boys I’ve been with were friends of friends or acquaintances of my parents’ friends. But these men are none of those. They don’t know me or my past, or even my future for that matter.

“Lie back, spread your legs.” The order comes from the older man, and I can’t stop my body from responding as I move against the mattress and spread my legs. My gaze tracks him as he moves to the foot end of the bed, where he takes one ankle and binds me with a soft cuff. Sir does the same, and I can’t help but grin when I call him that in my head.

“I feel exposed,” I tell them, but blush when two sets of eyes heat me with their gazes.

“I like you exposed,” he counters easily. Flirting comes naturally to him, and it shows. I wonder just how many women he’s brought in here, gifted that wolfish grin, and talked them into getting naked.

“I thought you’d say that,” I sass him, earning me a swat from the older man, causing me to yelp in shock. My thigh stinging from the contact.

“I like to see my pets cry,” the older man says. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You may call me O,” he informs me.

“I’m sorry, O,” I tell him, and he nods, turning away and heading to a wall of implements that makes me shiver. He picks up a crop and a flogger before returning to the bed. Each man wields their tools, and seconds later, leather is biting into my pale thighs. My back arches as pleasure rocks me to my core as Sir brings the flogger down on my legs. When he takes a moment, O brings the crop down onto my stomach.

“Keep your hands above your head.” There’s a warning in Sir’s tone, and I nod.

I stare at him, and a smile curls his lips. His gaze shimmers with mischief. Something tells me he likes this too much, not because he’s scary looking. His savageness is masked by the rather elegant appearance.

I want to grab at my limbs, but I know if I move, I’m going to get a harsher lashing than the one I’m currently receiving. I take it, though, and I bask in the attention of both men. After a dozen swats, I’m left writhing on the bed.

Sir moves deftly, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt, and I’m caught with rapt attention. O mimics the motion, and soon, white material pools on the floor, leaving my hungry eyes trailing over each man, taking in their very different bodies. Yet both mouthwatering.

Sir leans over me, his mouth inches from mine, and I almost lean up to kiss him when I realize he’s not touching me at all. Yet, it feels as if his fingers are on me when he regards me. The heat of his stare stroking parts of me that I didn’t think needed touching.

“Exquisite,” Sir remarks, bringing a hand to my hair, tangling his fingers through the long waves. Anticipation skitters down my spine like a mouse running from a trap—a hunter and its prey. “I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight,” he murmurs—his voice is raspy; gravel etches every word. His fingers trail along my shoulder, around the curve of my breast, but he doesn’t reach for my nipples that are now hardened peaks. Goose bumps rise along my flesh as his hand dips to my hip.

Hooking the waistband of my panties, he tugs, and the material disappears. O moves forward and helps me out of my bra, and soon, I’m naked for them. I can’t stop my cheeks from turning bright red.

“So delicate,” Sir murmurs along my cheek. His mouth seeking mine. When his lips feather over mine, another shudder of need travels through me. “I want to break you, little one.”

“I don’t think you can break me.” My words are whispered along his mouth, and he steps back suddenly, leaving me cold and shivering. Those dark eyes have turned black as he regards me. “What?” I whisper, wondering if I’ve upset him.