Page 96 of Hired Help

“I have something,” Daegan says, his slow gaze ravishing my body. “It was too much for her the other day, but I think it’ll give her the attention she deserves.”

My spine explodes into tingles, and I can’t remember how to swallow.

“Blindfolded?” he asks, turning to Harrison.

His son tilts his head, staring at me while a smile slithers across his mouth, borderline sinister. A smile reminding me he carries a knife and doesn’t mind using it.

“Definitely blindfolded. You’re not scared of the dark, are you Brooke?”

The tease has me biting my lower lip, trembling with anticipation. I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

Harrison moves behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. I can’t see him but, in my imagination, he’s cocking his eyebrow at his father, sorting out their nefarious plans with silent communication.

He slides his hands down until they’re circling my wrists, gently encouraging them behind my back. His knee bends, rubbing against the back of my legs as he moves it up and down, finding a rhythm that makes my skin sing, the fabric of my skirt lifting and falling, tickling and stroking.

“Are you going to apologise for your disrespect?” Harrison’s cheek rests against the top of my head, voice muffled by my hair. “There’s still a chance to avoid your punishment.”

My voice is a whisper. “I don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“Then I guess your choice is made.”

Daegan steps closer, bending until he’s level with my eyes. “You’ve got your safe words?”

I nod.

“You’ll need another if he’s restraining your hands. Do you want to blink for me?”

I blink twice, replacing my usual taps. Not that I’ve needed them… The only time I needed an out, I just asked him to stop.

Another shiver hits me. Maybe today he isn’t in the mood to monitor me so closely. Maybe the things he wants to teach his son today aren’t as safe as they have been up to now.

“That won’t work if I’m blindfolded.”

“Talking back as well.” Daegan gives a forlorn shake of his head. “This really won’t do. Being right isn’t any sort of excuse.”

“Guess we’ll just have to be unsafe, then.” Harrison’s hands slide up from my wrists, gathering my forearms and squeezing, the sensation firm but not painful. “Get in the bedroom.”

I take my first step forward and he grasps both my wrists together in one hand, moving the other to my shoulder to steer. The slow steady passage cranks up my internal tension until it’s screeching along the edge of sanity, breath held until the next instruction arrives.

“Here,” Daegan calls, tossing Harrison a pair of cuffs. He’s used fluffy bondage cuffs on me before, with padded bracelets that struggle to raise a bruise, but these aren’t any kind of fake. They’re metal, sized for a woman, the straight bar between them providing a grip to hold on to.

When Harrison clicks them around my wrists, he slides a finger inside the bracelet as a gauge, checking he doesn’t cut off my blood supply. The tiny gesture of comfort is the only concession he offers me, immediately shoving me onto the bed, holding me pinned with one strong hand in the centre of my back as he drags down my skirt, underwear travelling along to halfway down my legs, freed with a few firm tugs.

With my blouse, he unbuttons it, twisting the fabric around so my restraints are padded, my bra tangled with them, giving me even less freedom of movement. Exposing me while the two of them remain fully dressed. Fully in control.

Daegan hands his son a blindfold and Harrison fixes it to my face, running a finger underneath the elastic so it doesn’t catch on my hair.

There’s a shuffle of movement, something heavy being dragged across the carpet, then Daegan’s hands are on me, moving me into position, bending me forward until my cheek rests on the bedcover, my knees are at the edge of the mattress, my pussy exposed, my arse high in the air.

The vulnerability takes my breath away. Each cell of my skin is on full alert, waiting for the slightest movement, the faintest touch. The slow caress as Daegan runs his hand from the middle of my spine, along the curve of my lower back, out towards my hip, spreading electric tingles all the way.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, stroking my inner thigh, making my mouth dry as badly as when he stuffed it full of my underwear.

Another hand joins his while I’m held in the blindfold’s darkness. The palm on this one is smoother, plumper, the fingers moving to rub along the lips of my pussy are far more eager, caught between the softer tease of his father and the threat of the machine.

“Pass me that package,” Daegan instructs his son and I hear the snap and crack of plastic being torn apart, the tear of cardboard.

Then a long hard rubber dildo lands on my back, stretching from my tailbone to level with my sternum. Twelve inches or longer, the thickness clear in its weight.

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