Page 91 of Lesson In Honesty

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Page 91 of Lesson In Honesty

“None of us, pet.” Levi’s voice drifted around her, then his face came into view when Merrick let her slide down the front of his body and spun her around. “This is the lion’s den and you… well, five lions in their prime against one shy lioness only ends one way.”

With Merrick’s hands on her shoulders, Sierra lost herself in Levi’s eyes. Big and brown, the perfect match for his mahogany-red hair. She blinked as he lifted a collar to her throat and got a grunt of approval from Fordham.

Breathless, she asked, “What way is that?”

He grinned, fastening the collar in position. “The lioness gets fucked, of course. Over and over again until her legs won’t bear her weight. When she’s down on her belly, she’s gonna get it some more. Want to know what happens after that, pet?”

Bewitched by the melodic rise and fall of his voice, she was helpless to stop the slow nod.

“Every lion knows what she smells like, how she tastes. They’re intimate with the noises she makes and how her body dances under their hands. They started out admiring her, craving her, and by the end… they adore her all the more.”

Damn, he was an expert at striking the right spot. Even as her face filled with heat, his meaning hitting bullseye, he trailed his fingers down her arm and stepped back.

“Maverick, she’s all yours.”

Mack smiled and crossed over to her, cuffs linked over his hand. “Ankles first, pixie. You doing okay?”

“I’ll strip the girl myself then, shall I?” Merrick muttered under his breath. A dark chuckle followed, more to himself than anyone else. “What the hell am I complaining for? I like unwrapping pretty presents.”

Her mind struggled to focus on all the hands, flicking between Mack dropping to his knees to fasten the cuffs around her ankles and Merrick’s big, rough hands deftly removing every scrap of clothing she wore.

Closing her eyes, she savored the brush of rough skin against hers. She loved how another’s touch felt—she just couldn’t stand to watch beautiful hands sully themselves on her unworthy body.

“And just like that, she’s all mine. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Ugh, did she have to?

The fast pinch to her nipple assured her, yes, she did.

Fordham filled her vision. Shirtless, his arms corded with muscle no financial advisor should own, he waited like one of those lions Levi mentioned. Two different sets of rope were slung over his shoulder—one black, one green—and they draped down his front like a snake.

All the Masters present were hot in their own capacity, even Merrick with his broad, silver hair-flecked chest. Varying degrees of musculature, grooming habits, and skin tones. The bulges in their jeans, however, were disturbingly similar in size—there wasn’t a small package among them.

“You’ve been bound before. This will be more complicated and time-consuming.” Pulling on one length of rope, he coiled it in his hand. The emerald green shimmered through his fingers. “At some point, you’ll want to go down—on your knees, your back, your belly. It’s perfectly normal but I need you to tell me whenthat happens.” He gestured behind her. “Mack and Liam are waiting. They’ll lift you when it’s time.”

“L-Lift me?”

The rope slithered through his grasp as he arranged it how he wanted it. “Mmmn. Tonight you’re going to fly, sweetheart. Don’t want you running away now, do we?” Bending, he brushed his lips over her cheek, giving her a strong hit of earthy aftershave. He smelled fucking gorgeous. “I’ve been wanting to see you in my ropes again, Sierra. I’m partial to the way they hug your curves.”

She spared a single, disgusted glance down her body. Stress and the ungodly fear she was too fat to keep Liam interested had whittled her body into a former shadow of itself.

The end of the rope lashed her thigh; she jumped and cursed at the sting.

“This is a no-negativity zone, honey,” Merrick called out. “One of us will reprimand you if we think you’re heading down that path.”

Sulking just a little, she rubbed the line of fire lingering under her skin. Guess she knew how they were going toreprimandher for thoughts outside her control.

“The safeword is red.” Ford laid the middle section of the rope around the back of her neck, pulling it around to tie the first knot at the base of her throat. “Would you prefer something tangible instead?”

The material felt soft and silky against her skin. Ignoring her body, she focused on the deft movements of his hands as he turned limp rope into a living, breathing entity curling around her. “Are you going to gag me?”

“No, sweetheart.” Another knot just above her cleavage. “Shibari is a freeing experience for many submissives. So freeing they sometimes float away or lose their voice.” His hands stroked around her back, guiding his tool, before he shiftedbehind her to continue. “Levi has non-verbal aids if you want one.”

Sierra trembled. Did she trust her voice not to crap out on her? Probably not. The damn thing was temperamental at the best of times. But did she need a safeword or an aid?

Liam wouldn’t hurt her—that was a fact, pure and simple—and Mack was as bloodthirsty as a cocker spaniel puppy; a sharp nip here and there kept him happy. The other three were unknown, but she couldn’t imagine they’d purposefully damage her.

“No, I-I can manage.” Nerves began to get the best of her as the rope tightened slightly around her back. She tried to shuffle around, needing to see Liam, but Ford shushed her softly and gave her a firm order to stay still.




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