His attention makes my whole body warm, and it takes me a second to realize I’m blushing. When I look over at Ark, he’s laughing as he gets up from his computer and takes a seat at the breakfast table. “Don’t be embarrassed. Just enjoy it.”
“I am,” I tell Ark back, jumping down off the island and walking over to him, my hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment as I take the chair on the other side of him. The table is small and round, so it’s got an intimate feel to it. “I don’t know how I got here.” I look at both of them, one at a time. JD puts a plate of pancakes down and pauses. But all I can do is shrug. “I don’t know. But I feel… lucky.”
“Maybe it was just meant to be?” JD walks back to grab the eggs. “I believe in fate instead of luck,” he continues, setting the eggs down and taking his chair. The table used to only have two chairs, but Ark brought out a chair from his office that he’s sitting on. “I mean, look. I’ve been living with this control freak for four years now. And I will tell you, I’ve never thought about kissing him before this morning.”
Ark grins, shaking his head. If he feels uncomfortable about how things have changed overnight, he hides it well. Because he doesn’t seem to be shy. In fact, JD is right. He is a control freak. And he’s still in control now.
“Well, I did,” he says with a straight face.
“Bullshit,” JD says back, stuffing a pancake into his mouth. “You never did. And you wouldn’t be here now if we hadn’t ambushed you with the leash.”
“Oh, God.” I shake my head and grab a pancake and some eggs.
“You don’t like the leash?”
It’s Ark asking, not JD. And that stops me for a moment. “Did you?”
“It was hot as fuck,” Ark says.
“I thought you hated the kink?” I look over at JD and he winks at me.
“Not true. I just don’t like to cross any lines.”
“But collars and leashes are acceptable kink?”
“I think she should wear the collar all the time, Ark,” JD says, bypassing my question.
And even though I hate the fact that it affects me this way, the wetness begins to build between my legs again.
How does he do that with words?
Ark just stares at me, like he can read my thoughts. And then his hand is on my leg, rubbing. I watch his face as he does this. He remains stoic, no smile, his mouth just a flat line. And then his hand travels up to the v between my legs, slips inside the boxers I’m wearing, and fingers my pussy.
I swallow hard and close my eyes.
“Go get the collar, JD,” he says in a commanding tone.
I suck in a breath and bite my lip, trying to calm down. JD’s chair scrapes against the polished concrete floor as he gets up to go find the strip of leather.
“You want it, don’t you, Blue?”
I nod my head, but keep my eyes closed. “I can’t help it.” I don’t know how much they want to know about my captivity, so I remain silent. JD returns a few mounts later and hands the collar to Ark. His chair scrapes as he pushes back too, and suddenly I’m trembling.
“Shhh,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you, you know that.”
“I know,” I say. Because I do know. Ark is not into the pain. “But the problem is—” I look up at him and take a deep breath. “The problem is, I like to be hurt.” It’s a soft whisper, but everyone hears it. When I look over at JD, he’s grinning big. When I tilt my head up to see Ark’s reaction, he strokes a finger down my cheek.
“Hold your hair up,” Ark orders.
I do as I’m told and he slips the collar around my neck, fastening it so that it’s only loose enough to allow his fingers to slip between it and my skin.
I take a deep breath.
“You’re ours now. And that means you’re honest if we ask you a question. So my first question is, how hard do you like it?”
I let out a long gush of air and fold my hands in my lap.
“Be truthful, baby,” JD says. “We’re not going to judge.”
I nod, and then look up at his charming face. I believe him. With all my heart. I believe that I’m accepted here. That we all have a dark part to our souls. And even though it would be better if that darkness was never there in the first place, the next best thing is to have the people we love accept that we are imperfect.
And that’s what we have here.
“Can I tell you how it happened? Before I tell you what I like?”
“Of course,” Ark answers. He takes my hand and pulls me over to his lap. I climb on, grateful for his tenderness. One arm wraps around my waist and the other strokes my knee. “Take your time.”