What She's Looking For (17 page)

“What the fuck!” She twisted her
ankles against the cuffs, and her legs came up short. She looked down to find
the cuffs chained to a ring in the tiled flooring. “Are you kidding with this?”

Parker glared at her, rubbing his
shin. “Kicking me means you’re not particularly interested in keeping the use
of your legs. So we took care of that for you.”

“Wait, wait,” she grunted, as
Parker pushed a button on the wall of the enclosure. The hum of the winch motor
sounded overhead, only stopping when her body was stretched, taut, the balls of
her feet barely touching the tile. Her arms reached straight up, the cuffs just
beginning to pull at her wrists.

Drake pointed up. “Grab the bar,
Ashley. Those cuffs aren’t going to feel very good if you leave your weight on
your wrists.”

“Then let me down!” She looked at
Parker. “I don’t want this. Please.”

Parker’s eyes glinted. “Then say
it.” Another glance at Drake. “But I don’t think you will. You want this. You
don’t even
want
a choice.” He stepped back, standing next to Drake, is
hands at his hips again. “Well, you’ve come to the right place, Ashley. Because
very soon, if I’m right about all this, you won’t have a choice.”

“Fuck you.” The defeat in her voice
attenuated any impact the words might have had. Was he right? Could she handle
what might come next if he was? Why didn’t she just fucking say it?

Parker ignored her now, tipping his
head toward Drake, his eyes not leaving her. “Much better all stretched out and
displayed like that, don’t you think? Finally we can get a good look at what
we’re working with.”

“You were right about her. She does
need to eat more.” Drake's eyes tried to meet Ashley's, but she slid hers away,
feeling her cheeks heat. “But her tits … god
damn
.”

“Can you imagine what they’ll look
like once we get her eating enough again?” Parker raised her chin with a
finger, his gaze meeting hers. “The way I’ll
order
her to?”

“What about the nipples?” Drake’s
tone was casual, off-hand, as if the two men were discussing the weather
forecast, but the rapacious gleam in their dark depths said something else
entirely.

Parker stroked his chin, scratching
through the dark stubble just beginning to shadow his features. “I don’t know.
Been thinking twelve gauge.” He turned his head to Drake. “Gold?”

Oh FUCK.

Were they talking … no, no way.

“I like gold. Simple. But I’d go
something thicker.” A rare smile lit up the taciturn Drake’s face. “I want her
to feel the weight of them.”

“Good point. Hadn’t thought of
that.” Parker’s stern gaze turned back to Ashley. “Have you ever been pierced
before?”

She swallowed, her throat suddenly
resembling the texture of a burlap sack. “My ears.”

“That doesn’t count. So, that’s a
‘no’, Drake. This should be fun!”

If Ashley thought she felt exposed
against that shower glass before, she felt like nothing so much as livestock up
for auction now. She squeezed the bar overhead, and closed her eyes. She wanted
this — Parker had seen it — but she still fought. She couldn’t
not
fight.

Parker stepped right up to her, his
clothing whispering against her naked flesh, the throbbing, exposed points of
her nipples. He looked up. “How are your wrists? Tingling? Numb?”

“Better … if I grab the bar.”

He stared into her eyes a moment,
then caught one of her nipples between his fingers. The pain when he squeezed
brought her up on her toes.

“What?” she asked, wincing. “Parker—”

“
Sir
, Ashley. You’re going
to address me as
Sir
from here on — when I let you talk at all.”

She glared up at him, clenching her
jaw. “Sir.”

Parker’s grin was anything but
warm; it was the anticipation of the wolf before dispatching his prey. He
turned his head. “Drake, will you grab that oil off the dresser out there?”

Drake flashed his grin before
ducking back out into the bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a
long time, girl.” Parker pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “Just stay still
and let us touch you. Nothing to be afraid of.” His finger raised her chin once
more. “And I know part of you likes this. Relax and enjoy it — you don’t have a
choice about it anyway.”

Drake returned, stepping into the
enclosure, handing the clear bottle to Parker and leaning a muscular shoulder
against the tile wall.

Ashley shivered at the sound of the
bottle being popped open, the wet sounds of the oil being rubbed between
Parker’s big palms. She gasped as he took both breasts, lifting their weight,
kneading them in his strong fingers.

“That’s a girl,” Parker breathed. “I
love these breasts. So soft, so vulnerable.” His hands worked the oil in, squeezing,
lifting, then squeezing again, hard enough to make Ashley whine through
clenched teeth.

Drake moved closer, the air in the
enclosure heating against her skin. “Keep quiet, Ashley. Let him touch you.”

Her gaze rose to Drake’s as Parker
recharged his hands with oil, smoothing more of the cool, slippery liquid over
her upper chest, the heels of his hands brushing the slopes of her breasts. She
saw something in Drake’s dark eyes, that warmth, that kindness she’d seen
earlier, so incongruous with the dangerous energy that emanated from that
powerful body.

“You want him to touch you too,
don’t you?” Parker’s voice was nearly a whisper. “All you have to do is ask,
girl. Ask him to touch you.” His hands slid down the slick slopes of her
heaving breasts, the hard fingers squeezing down each breast to the tips,
ending with a harsh pinch of her throbbing nipples. “You want to feel his
hands. Don’t lie, Ashley. There’s no lying here.”

“Yes,” she whimpered, dropping her
head. His fingers kept moving, rolling her nipples, then squeezing again, so
hard the pain made her gasp. Her nipples felt like they were hardwired directly
to her clit, each impulse of pain or pleasure earthing in her sex. They’d
always been sensitive, able to both bring her to the heights of bliss or the
depths of misery. But she’d never had someone pay as much … attention, to them
as Parker did now.

“He’s waiting for you, girl.”
Parker kissed her above an eyebrow. “All you have to do is say those three
words.”

“I said I wouldn’t touch her … yet.”
Ashley raised her head at Drake’s voice, and she smiled, despite the confusing
pain/pleasure of Parker’s cruel fingers at her tender nipples. Drake was a man
who kept his word; something else new to her. Did she believe him though?
Either of them?

“She’s ours, Drake.” Parker lifted
her glistening globes in broad palms, offering them to his friend. “All she has
to do is accept it.” His thumbs brushed over swollen nipples that seemed to
throb with the very beat of her heart. “Her body already does. All that’s left
is the mind … and the heart.”

“Not yet, Parker.” Drake’s big hand
clapped him on the shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I can’t get an eyeful though. She’s
not going anywhere anytime soon, right?”

Ashley turned her burning face
against her inner arm at Parker’s knowing chuckle. “Nope. We’ve got all the
time we need. She needs to get used to this anyway.”

Why didn’t she fight now? She knew
the answer to that, of course. The aching of her nipples, the slickness between
the lips of her pussy, the trembling of her thighs, told all. Parker wanted her
willing surrender, her active acceptance. But Ashley knew she wasn’t prepared
to give it … because she didn’t want that choice.

The truth was that she wanted it
taken from her. How had she become this person?

It’s the person you’ve always
been. The one he could see within you … then used that knowledge against you.

“No, Park — Sir. I can’t. I don’t …
please not again.”

Parker leaned close, pressing light
kisses to her hair, whispering. “Not him, girl. Not him. Not
ever
.”

Those strong hands, the rough palms
recharged with slippery oil, roamed over her skin, heating her core, even as
she shivered at the blatant demonstration of his power over her. “She needs to
get used to being touched whenever, wherever, we want.” Parker, his hand
leaving a wet trail along Ashley’s ribcage, looked back at his friend. “You
should feel the way she trembles, Drake. Unbelievable.”

Ashley couldn’t help but watch
Drake. Tension poured off of him, his brawny forearms flexing across his chest,
as if he were struggling to hold himself back. His dark eyes shone with an avid
glint, an intensity that should’ve unsettled Ashley, but instead, oddly,
comforted her. Parker was right that she wanted Drake to touch her too, but his
need to temper his lust, to rein in the strength so obvious in his magnificent
physique made her feel … safer.

When it was time — when
he
was ready — he would touch her. And whether she was completely ready for it or
not, Ashley knew she would surrender to it.

Finally.

She watched Drake’s eyes as
Parker’s knowing, clever fingers traced every contour of her body. The cold oil
spreading over her belly made her clench her abdominals, her attention focused
like a laser on how close those fingertips were to her now burning pussy. It
didn’t matter to her anymore that Drake watched. She was bound fast, unable to
fight anything anymore. It was permission to stand down, an acknowledgment of
reality. Fighting it lent the spice she needed, and she’d do it regardless to
prove to them she was anything but a weakling, but now, helpless under those
strong hands and flashing, possessive gazes, she could give up.

This is what she’d always wondered
about — if submission could feel anything other than frightening, taboo. She
knew now that it
could
, and she stood on a precipice, a vast, verdant,
valley of possibilities, of discoveries — and pleasures — stretching out before
her.

“Do you see it?” Parker’s voice
turned toward his friend once more. “She’s understanding things now.”

“Be careful with her, Park. She’s
fragile, too.”

Ashley’s eyes snapped to Drake’s,
and he met her gaze unflinchingly. Was it insult, or the stunned shock of
having someone see so clearly the inner girl that she hid? Was she that
transparent? “How do you know? How could—”

Parker stepped into Ashley’s line
of sight, forcing her to look up at him. “I want you to be quiet now, girl.
Drake and I have some things to discuss, and I want you to stay silent for the
time being. Can you do that?”

“What? Why?”

“Either you do as I tell you, or I’m
going to gag you, Ashley.”

Hanging there in a harness, trussed
up, helpless, had her feeling vulnerable enough. She needed to be able to
express herself in some way though, and suddenly the thought of being forcibly
deprived of speech terrified her.

“Yes … Sir.” She dropped her eyes
as she said it, the heat at her face and neck as mortifying as the words
themselves.

“Smart girl,” he said, patting her
cheek with an oiled hand. “Now, where were we?”

She looked down, watching his hands
take her breasts once more, the squeezing deep, hard, the pain almost an
admonishment. Then they moved lower, encircling her waist, while the glistening
globes of her breasts swayed, their curves shining with oil, the long, hard
nipples an inflamed red counterpoint to their pale fullness.

“She’s got such curves, even as
emaciated as she is.” Parker’s grin was evident in his voice. “Once she puts a
few more pounds back on, this figure will be so lush, so curvy. Perfect for
keeping our beds warm at night.”

“I think ten to fifteen more would
be perfect,” Drake rumbled. “I wonder though … “

“I do too,” Parker said, still
standing close to her. The conversation was so mortifying she couldn’t bear to
look up at him though, the need to avert her gaze an urge of such power, it was
almost a physical compulsion. But mortification or not, her clit pulsed with an
alarming urgency, those oiled hands setting in motion an uncoiling deep in her
belly.

“Look at me, girl.” Parker’s gaze
met hers, his brow furrowed. “No talking; I want a nod or a shake of that
pretty head only. And don’t lie to me. You do and you’ll get a spanking before
we go any further. Did you purposely not eat enough, Ashley?”

She shook her head, swallowing.
Making her feel like a bad little girl seemed to be his specialty, and though
it made her face flame, it made her pussy clench with need. Something within
her, deep within her, responded to this — even needed this.

A slick hand stroked the curve of
her hip, laying cool oil down in its wake. “Health problems?”

Ashley shook her head again; it
wasn’t
technically
lying. She held onto that rationalization like a
drowning man would clutch a life preserver.

“For Christ’s sake, Park, let her
talk a little.” Drake raised a hand toward her. “This is turning into twenty
fucking questions.”

Parker’s hands tightened around
her, mirth in his voice. “Stay out of this, prick. You want to give her
directions? Then stop being a pussy and come touch her.”

Her eyes met Drake’s, not knowing
even what she wanted, not knowing what unspoken message he would see in her
eyes. His dark eyes bore into her, searching. Then he tilted his head to the
side, as if to mull something over. “Fine.” Drake’s voice was so low Ashley had
to strain to hear it.

“About time you dropped the act,
Drake.” Parker’s hand gripped a slick breast, holding it up. An offering. “These
stiff nipples tell us what we need to know. She wants this as much as we do.”
Parker’s smoldering gaze met hers. “The body betrays.”

His hands continued their
exploration of her body. He coated his palms with more oil, spreading the cool
slickness over her shoulders, the tips of his fingers tracing her delicate
collarbones. She found herself panting gently as they moved slowly down her
torso, his fingers tracing each rib, his touch as gentle as a feather across
her heated skin. His palm smoothed over her belly, a wetted fingertip playing
within the well of her navel. Parker chuckled at her intake of breath at the
tickling exploration.