Her gaze rose to Lindsay, avoiding Damian's eyes.
“From this point onward you will call both of us master, whether you are alone with one of us or we are all together, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master,” she said softly.
He was keeping her? They were both keeping her? She could barely believe any of this was happening. They both wanted her? That seemed the most impossible of all the realizations. She'd been certain after Brian had damaged her all those years ago that no one would ever truly want her again, that she would be alone for the rest of her life. And now she was getting both of these beautiful men along with all the promises Lindsay had made to her so many years ago before bringing her to the house. Was this real?
Lindsay continued, “This is how it will be, kitten. You will live with me and go to work with me during the week. On Fridays, the three of us will have dinner. Sometimes at Damian's, sometimes at a nice restaurant. Occasionally we may all attend parties or other functions together. The three of us will play together on Friday nights, after which, I'll return to the house for the rest of weekend when Damian will get you to himself.
“He'll return you to me at the office each Monday morning. He may show up during the week for lunch. At some point in the distant future, this balance will shift in the other direction, and you'll spend most of your time with him and see me on the weekends. This is not a debate or discussion. It's what Damian and I have decided. Is this all clear?”
“Yes, Master.” Was that why he'd introduced Damian? So she wouldn't end up alone again? Silent tears started to fall down her face. The thought had crossed her mind that the age difference could leave her even more alone down the road, but she hadn't cared. She'd wanted to grab onto this one good thing and not worry about what happened a decade or two from now.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now, crawl over to Damian. We both get the full protocol.”
Shannon swallowed around the lump in her throat. She still hadn't looked at Damian. She crawled over to him and pressed her lips against his shoes then moved back into her kneeling position, this time next to Damian and said, “Master.”
She heard the breath that tumbled out of him when she used that word for him. She didn't know how she knew it, but that sound was satisfaction.
“Look at me, baby,” Damian said.
She looked up. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to see in his eyes. Anger, disappointment, betrayal for running. But what she found in his gaze instead was pure raw animal desire. She'd been wrong. She wasn't a do-a-friend-a-favor fuck. He wanted her. She didn't understand how, but he wanted her.
“I am the only one who will fuck your ass, do you understand me?” he asked.
She started to turn to Lindsay to get his reaction to this but Damian's hand rested on the side of her face, blocking her from turning.
“Don't look at him. Answer me.”
“Y-yes, Master,” she said.
“If there is any conflict, Lindsay and I will work it out between us and then we will bring our decision to you. You will not play us off each other, and we won't put you in a position to betray one of us with contradictory demands you can't obey.”
Damian reached around behind her throat and removed the collar. Then he passed it to Lindsay. She couldn't stop the tears spilling out at the loss.
“Why can't I keep it?” she asked.
Lindsay spoke then. “It isn't appropriate for you to wear my collar when you belong to both of us.”
“So I'm not going to have one?” she asked, trying to hold back the tears in her voice.
“I didn't say that. For now you won't have one. Let Damian and I handle it.”
She nodded.
Damian's hand was in her hair then, stroking. “I'm going to punish you, not because you ran from me but because you put yourself in danger by coming back here. But I won't do it until your back heals. For now, we're just going to spend some time together.”
Some silent communication passed between Lindsay and Damian, then Damian took her hands in his and helped her to her feet. He led her to one corner of the room.
Lindsay brought a coil of black rope and tied her wrists together in front of her.
“Grab the ring,” Damian said.
Shannon reached up and gripped the metal ring that came down out of the ceiling at just the right height so she could hold it without going onto her toes.
“Don't let go or you'll only add to your future punishment.”
Lindsay blindfolded her with one of his dark ties. She heard the footsteps as they prowled around her like a couple of hungry wolves planning the take-down of their dinner. She lost track of who was who as they circled her.
“We're going to play a game,” Lindsay said. “It's called, which master. One of us will do something to you and you'll tell us which one it is. If you're right, we'll reward you. If you're wrong, we'll punish you.”
“I-I thought Damian said no punishment until I heal.”
Lindsay laughed. “That's because Damian wants to be able to punish you however he likes without limitations. And I'm just fine with caning your ass or thighs. So for this game... you're at risk. Guess wisely.”
Footsteps receded, and she knew that one or both of them had gone to the box of whipping implements and toys. She hated the cane. He knew she hated the cane. Which was exactly why he used it for punishment. It was Lindsay's favored tool.
Shannon had no idea why he kept a paddle hanging on his office wall when he liked the cane so much.
“Here are the rules,” Damian said, his voice echoing in a circle around her which made it feel as though he were everywhere all at once. “One of us will do something. When we stop you have five seconds to guess correctly. You can't change your answer. The first name you say is the answer we're taking. Do you understand the rules, baby?”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
“Good girl.”
There was silence for several seconds and then a tongue swept over her nipple before a mouth closed fully over her breast.
“D-Damian?”
A buzzing toy was pressed between her legs. “Good girl,” Damian whispered in her ear.
She arched toward the pleasure, but it was withdrawn a few seconds later.
A hand moved to the back of her neck, gripping her possessively, then a mouth kissed and sucked at her throat.
“Lindsay,” she said.
The toy was between her legs again. She moved against it. The moment she began to moan it was taken away.
A hand stroked her ass, rubbing and kneading, slipping between her cheeks but not penetrating. That was an easy one. “Damian.”
The cane struck the back of her thighs with punishing swiftness, and she shrieked, gripping the ring over her head harder. “B-But Damian said only he could...”
Damian's voice was in her ear then, and she wondered if he was the one who'd just delivered the blow with the cane. “Nobody penetrates your ass but me. He didn't put his fingers inside you.”
Several moments later, a tongue stroked over the place where the cane had landed. She stopped to think, wondering which one of them would have soothed that pain away. She was confused now. She had no idea who'd licked the cane mark. And was it the same tongue that was now seeking the wetness between her thighs?