Page 76 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

Once we’re in the office, we find Lance already wearing his coat, hand braced on the edge of his desk as he waits for us. He’s partially bent over, breathing hard, and though his pants are navy blue and the space is somewhat dark, I spot his cock, hard and big.

“Belt trick stopped working?” I ask, knowing I’m just as hard as he is, without the plug.They’remy plug. Watching them writhe and ache for me, at my hand. It feels just as good, I swear.

He shakes his head. “What? I can’t even think right now. Just—we need to go. Where’s B?”

She lifts a hand from beside me, grabbing her purse after slipping into her coat. “Right here. Did you seriously not see me?” She pulls her long hair out from under her collar.

“I can’t… we need to go,” he says, practically moaning it, and God is he hot like this, when he’s toeing the line of explosion. I look at Brielle, and search for the same desperate need in her. I don’t quite see it, though I can see she is affected and horny, she isn’t as wildly needy as he is. It could be the fact she hasn’t fully warmed up to ass play yet, I don’t know.

Knowing Lance needs focus, and also wanting to explore how Brielle is feeling before we enter a scene at home tonight, I ask him to drive.

I slide into the backseat with Brielle, and Lance doesn’t even give us grief about playing chauffeur, or whine about how he’s left out. He’s so close to the edge that he can’t even be grouchy—that’s close.

I push her skirt up, moving my hand between her thighs to make space until she opens for me. I reach under her skirt, tugging the drenched crotch of her panties aside. Her bottom lip wavers as she sucks in a breath, waiting. “Please.” But I don’t touch her. Her cunt radiates heat and my fingers linger there, next to her lips, but I don’t touch her.

I know from her panties that she’s as bad off as Lance is. I shake my head. “No.” I nibble her jaw, and kiss her neck. “You’re ready, I can feel that much,” I tell her, reaching into my pocket for one of the two collars. I brought them to work with me, kept them in the opposite pocket as the remotes, as a reminder that my pups have been miserable all day and need lots of extra love tonight.

And also, so I could collar one or both of them on the drive home, as foreplay of course.

I slide the collar beneath the curtain of silky hair, and groan in response to her moan flanking my lips as I buckle it. I give it a tug, bringing her lips to mine, loving how she immediately kisses me and doesn't wait.

“I have to admit something,” she hums against my lips, reaching up to hold my wrist where I tug at her collar. Lance growls from the driver’s seat, aggressively flicking the blinker.

I turn away from her to address him, our eyes meeting in the rearview for a moment as he slows to a red light. “Don’t worry,” I laugh, unbuckling as I slide to the edge of my seat. I reach around the headrest, looping his collar around his neck. It takes work at this angle, but I buckle it to his throat as the light turns green. He settles into his seat, a bit more relaxed. When I’m back in my seat, I find the remote and turn him back on a three-minute torture cycle.

Immediately he slams a palm to the steering wheel. “Goddamn it!” he yells, earning a smirk from both Brielle and myself.

I lick her lips before kissing her. “He’s a grouchy pup,” I tell her, knowing full well I’ve made him what he is. Happy that I have, in fact. “Now, what were you saying?”

I slide my hand between her thighs, dusting my fingertips over her mound, right above her lips. She whines and wiggles, surging her hips forward, trying to force me to touch her. I pull my hand back and grin. “Speak.”

Through a tremble she finds my eyes, darkness flitting through the cab as Lance drives us through a tunnel leading to the residential side of the city. “Tonight, I want to use toys,” she starts, pacing herself so I know there's more. Hell, there’s got to be more because we use toys together often.

I’ve whipped them both with leashes and collars, but we also have floggers and crops. We have plugs and dildos and strap ons—I mean, we have it all. I smile down at her as street lights illuminate her face for a short moment. “That’s easy.”

“That’s not all,” she says. “I want to use toys on myself, by myself.”

I arch a brow. “Sweetheart, I’d watch you play with your ass and pussy any time. But after a day of teasing and torture–”

She cuts me off with a shake of her head, blonde waves framing her face. She looks so gorgeous in this dim light, and when I glance up to find Lance’s blue-silver eyes in the rearview, I can’t help but think he looks just as gorgeous. I’m a lucky man.

“I won’t be the show, you two will be.” She bites her bottom lip, eyes darting around the dark cab, desperate for a pulse on her admission. I stroke my hand down my evening stubble, trying to understand.

“Darling,” I start, but again, her words spill out of her, coating the entire car, leaving us to do nothing but swim in them and absorb her wishes.

“I want you to make love to Lance. As your submissive.” She swallows, her eyes growing wide with fear and I realize then that she thinks we may decline her fantasy. “I want to see you two together. I mean, when I first met you both I thought you were so incredibly hot and handsome and–” she plucks at her blouse as she lifts off the seat slightly, fighting the plug which rears to a higher speed under my control. “Then I saw something. I saw a movie, or like, a home video,” she says cautiously, as if she thinks she could be scolded for this. “It was an accident, you were yelling at me to take notes, get a notepad and so I went to your office and opened your laptop and a movie was playing.”

Lance shifts the car into park, and I realize that we’re home, in the garage. But we continue the conversation, with Lance turned around in the driver’s seat, facing us.

“A movie?” He questions, eyes burning into mine.

I sweep a hand through my hair and let out a sigh. “Our movies,” I reply, shame creeping up my spine. “I watched them on days where I felt…lost.” I meet his eyes. “Days where you gave me nothing but a cold shoulder—which I deserved—I’d watch our movies.”

“I’m sorry,” Brielle interjects. “I really didn’t–”

I raise a knowing palm, because I didn’t close that video when I closed the laptop. It was my careless fault, and I’m fortunate no one else opened my computer to see that. “Don’t worry. That was a weak moment, and it’s not your fault.”

“Well,” she continues, playing with the hem of her pencil skirt. “I saw you two together and–it was so beautiful but also so hot and I’m not trying to exploit you or fetishize you, it's just… I love you both and I want to be part of everything.”

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