37. Ayla

37

AYLA

“ H ey guys,” I say, trying to keep my voice casual despite the nervous fluttering in my stomach. “Can I ask you some questions about the motorcycle club?”

Clay nods, patting the spot next to him on the couch. “Of course, darlin’. Have a seat and fire away.”

I sink down beside him, acutely aware of his solid presence. Taking a breath, I launch into my questions - about the club’s history, their activities, how things operate. The guys take turns answering, their voices patient and thorough as they explain.

“Where’s Piper?” I ask after a while, glancing around.

“Oh, Jamie’s got her for the night,” Kip grins. “She was real excited to take the little munchkin. Practically begged us, so we could come and get you.”

I bite my lip. “You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, Jamie’s pretty close to popping herself...”

“Nah, Jamie’s more than capable, even with a bun in the oven,” Teller chuckles. “Besides...” His eyes glint mischievously. “With the kiddo out of the house, it means we can focus all our attention on you tonight.”

My breath catches at the innuendo lacing his words. Focus their attention on me? In what way exactly? My mind whirls with the possibilities, desire and anxiety warring within me.

Teller steps into the kitchen and returns with a wine bottle and a glass, pouring a generous amount of deep crimson liquid into the glass. He hands it to me, our fingers brushing. “Drink up, sweetheart. You’re going to need it.”

I accept the glass hesitantly. “What do you mean? Why will I need it?”

His lips curl into a sinful smirk. “Because Ayla... it’s time for your punishment. For running away from us like that.”

My eyes widen, confusion and a thrill of excitement battling within me. “Punishment? But I thought-”

“Shh, relax,” Clay soothes, his hand sliding higher up my thigh. “We would never hurt you, baby. Trust me, you’re going to enjoy every second of this punishment.”

Kip nods, his gaze smoldering. “Every. Single. Second.”

I take a large gulp of wine, the rich notes coating my tongue as I try to calm my racing heart. The heat of their stares, the promise in their words... it’s almost too much.

As soon as I lower the glass, Kip takes it from my hand as Clay’s hand fists in my hair, pulling me close until our noses nearly touch. “Fuck, Ayla, if you knew how much I’ve missed you... how worried I was...” His voice is low, rough with emotion.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my lips trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know, baby. And I know just how you can make it up to me.” His mouth hovers over mine, his breath mingling with my own. “You’re going to be a good girl and take your punishment like the perfect angel you are, aren’t you?”

All I can do is whimper my assent, my body already thrumming with need. I have no idea what they have planned, but I’m more than willing to submit to their desires, to let them take me apart piece by piece.

Because even though a part of me is terrified, another part knows that this is exactly where I’m meant to be. In their arms, at their mercy, ready to be worshipped in the most sinful of ways.

No more running. No more hiding.

Tonight, I’m theirs. Mind, body, and soul.

Clay’s arms engulf me as he lifts me effortlessly, cradling me against his broad chest. My heart races, anticipation and nerves warring within me as he carries me towards his bedroom, Teller and Kip following close behind.

The click of the door closing seems to echo in the charged silence, and I can’t help but shiver as Kip steps forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We’ve got some special treats for you tonight, sweetheart,” he drawls, holding up a black silk blindfold and some silk restraints.

My mouth goes dry, a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through me. “I... I don’t know if I can...” I stammer, my gaze darting between the three of them.

Teller is by my side in an instant, his hand cupping my cheek gently. “Hey, look at me,” he murmurs, waiting until my eyes meet his. “We would never hurt you, Ayla. You know that, right?”

I nod slowly, leaning into his touch. “I know.”

“Then trust us.”

“I trust you. I trust all of you.” And I do, with every fiber of my being.

“That’s our girl,” Clay rumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “We’re going to make you feel so good, baby. Just relax and let us take care of you.”

Kip steps closer, trailing the silk blindfold along my jaw. “Do you want this, Ayla? Do you want to give yourself to us completely?”

I inhale shakily, my body already aching for their touch. “Yes,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m yours. Please... make me yours.”

Their eyes darken with desire, the air crackling with tension as they exchange a loaded glance. I can see the barely restrained hunger in their expressions, the way their hands flex as if itching to touch me.

And I want it. God, do I want it. I want to drown in the depths of their passion, to lose myself in the pleasure they promise.

Clay lays me gently on the plush bed. His strong hands guide me back as whispered reassurances caress my ear. “Just relax, Ayla. We’ve got you.”

A silken blindfold slips over my eyes, immersing me in darkness. My other senses heighten - the brush of fingertips on my skin, the quiet rustle of fabric. My breath quickens as they take my wrists, binding them in satin that feels cool and smooth against my skin. They loop the restraints around the frames of the headboard, securing me in place.

My pulse pounds in my throat. I can’t see what’s happening, only feel. Mystery hands push up the hem of my shirt, exposing my belly to the air. I shiver, goosebumps racing across my flesh. Behind my back, deft fingers unclasp my bra, freeing my breasts.

“So beautiful,” Clay murmurs appreciatively. The husky timbre of his voice sends a thrill through me.

My jeans are unbuttoned, unzipped. They slide down my legs along with my panties, baring me completely to their unseen gazes. Heat floods my cheeks. An instinctive urge to cover myself takes over and I tug against the restraints, but the satin holds fast. I’m utterly exposed, helpless.

“Nowhere to hide now,” Teller remarks, a smile in his tone. “You’re all ours tonight, completely at our mercy.”

My stomach flutters at his words - nervousness and anticipation twisting together. I’m vulnerable yet somehow deeply aroused, aching for their touch. What sensual torments do they have in store for me?

As a man’s warm tongue laps at my sensitive folds, I arch my back against the mattress, unable to contain my moans. It’s so much more intense than anything I’ve ever experienced before, the constraints on my wrists and ankles heightening every erotic swipe of his tongue. Sensations course through me like wildfire, and I squirm under his talented ministrations, my body clamoring for more.

“That’s it, baby,” Kip whispers in my ear, his breath fanning over my neck.

Fingers trail up my spine, sending shivers down my spine, each touch a teasing promise of more to come.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“God, yes,” I pant, my legs trembling with anticipation. “Don’t stop.”

Clay’s voice rumbles from the other side of the bed. “Oh, we’re just getting started, sunshine. You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Their words inflame me further, and I whimper, desperate for more . I’ve never felt this wanton, this hungry for anything or anyone in my life. And yet, here I am, tied to a bed with three sexy bikers ready to claim me as their own.

Moans escape my lips as the tongue swirls around my sensitive clit, thrusting in and out of my wet folds. My body writhes against the satin restraints, desperate for more contact but unable to move. The sensations are overwhelming, intensified by the darkness of the blindfold. Not knowing whose mouth is worshiping me only heightens my arousal.

“That’s it, baby, let us make you feel good,” a husky voice murmurs against my inner thigh, the hot breath making me shiver.

Fingers slip inside me, curling to hit that sweet spot as the tongue resumes its merciless assault on my clit. My back arches off the bed, pushing my aching core against the delicious friction. I’m lost to the all-consuming need, rational thoughts scattering.

Then lips wrap around one stiff nipple, sucking hard as teeth graze the pebbled tip. “Ahhh!” A wanton cry tears from my throat at the exquisite bite of pain melting into pleasure.

Those clever fingers pump faster, the tongue flicking rapidly. My world narrows to the places they’re touching me so intimately, stoking the fire burning me up from the inside. Pressure builds at my core, winding tighter and tighter. I’m trembling on the edge, muscles clenching.

“Come for us, gorgeous,” someone coaxes gruffly. “Let go.”

One more thrust of fingers, one more pull on my nipple, and I shatter.

The world explodes in a kaleidoscope of colors behind my eyelids, stars bursting across the inky blackness. I cry out, my whole body convulsing as wave after wave of bliss wash over me.

But they don’t stop. Merciless, relentless, they keep tormenting my sensitive areas, refusing to let me catch my breath. Lips suck harder on my nipple while two fingers replace the one inside me, stretching me deliciously. The mouth on my clit sucks harder, flicking and circling, and I’m certain I’ll split apart at the seams.

A searing kiss steals my air, lips crashing against mine with wild abandon. Teeth nip my lower lip, and my hips buck uncontrollably. I can’t even form words, my cries muffled by the demanding kiss.

I tighten up, my body quivering uncontrollably as another intense orgasm crashes over me. One of the men lets out a deep, guttural groan of satisfaction. Even through the haze of pleasure, I can sense their hunger, their insatiable desire.

“That’s it baby, come for us again,” Teller growls, his breath hot against my neck.

Fingers plunge deeper inside me, working in tandem with the relentless tongue flicking over my sensitive nub. My back arches off the bed as I’m pushed over the edge once more, crying out wordlessly. It’s almost too much, the sensations overwhelming every nerve ending.

Clay’s large hands grip my hips, holding me in place. “We’re not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

And they’re not. Oh god, they’re not. They push me to climax again, and again, until I’ve lost count, until I’m trembling and weak, sweat-slicked skin sliding against the sheets. My mind is hazy, thoughts scattering. There’s only the pulsing ache between my thighs and their hands, their mouths, taking me apart piece by piece.

Kip’s fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just enough to send sparks down my spine. “You’re so gorgeous like this, Ayla. So responsive. We could do this all night.”

All night? I don’t know if I can take any more. My body is spent, wrung out from the force of my orgasms. But still they stroke, caress, tease, stoking the embers of my desire. I’m lost to the rhythm they set, my pleasure building once again as they work me over so thoroughly, so completely.

“Please,” I gasp, unsure if I’m begging for more or for mercy. “I can’t...”

“Shh,” Clay soothes.

My breath comes in ragged pants as the intensity ebbs, leaving behind a pleasant, full-bodied ache. Kip’s voice reaches my ears, low and intimate. “Are you ever going to run like that again, sweetheart?”

I shake my head weakly, licking my dry lips. “No, I won’t.”

“Promise us,” there’s a squeeze on my thigh.

“I promise.”

“Good girl,” Teller rumbles, pressing a tender kiss to my temple. “We need you here, with us. Always.”

The sincerity in his words wraps around my heart and I nod, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. They care deeply. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

I feel hands at my ankles, undoing the restraints with gentle efficiency. The brush of fingers against over sensitive skin sends a shiver through me. Then those hands are gripping my hips, thumbs tracing circles over the jut of bone.

“One more, baby,” Clay coaxes as he notches himself at my entrance. “Can you handle it?”

One of them sinks into me slowly, inch by delicious inch, filling me so completely that I see stars. A broken moan spills from my throat. I’m exhausted, wrung out, but somehow my body responds, fluttering weakly around his length.

“That’s it, just like that,” he praises, starting a leisurely pace that drags across all the right spots inside me. “You’re perfect, Ayla. So perfect for us.”

His words wash over me like a caress as he moves, stoking the embers of my desire impossibly higher. Each thrust is deep and purposeful, seeking my pleasure even as he chases his own. My nails scrabble against his shoulders, needing an anchor against the onslaught of sensation.

I feel the smooth heat of an erect penis press insistently against my lips. Instinctively, I part them, welcoming the hard length into the warmth of my mouth. The heady taste of aroused male floods my senses as I swirl my tongue around the broad head, laving the sensitive underside.

A low groan reaches my ears. “Fuck, Ayla, just like that...”

Spurred on by the praise, I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks to create an exquisite suction. My head bobs in a steady rhythm, base to tip and back again, as I lose myself in the act of giving pleasure. Strong fingers thread through my hair, not pushing or demanding, but gently guiding my movements.

Another hard shaft brushes my cheek and I reach for it blindly, wrapping my fingers around the thick base. The dual sensations send a thrum of feminine power rushing through my veins. I stroke in tandem with the slide of my mouth, reveling in every twitch and pulse against my palm, every barely restrained thrust between my lips.

I’m engulfed on all sides - a dick fucking me deep, one stretching my lips wide, another heavy and hot in my palm. Intoxicating male scents swirl in my nose. Saliva drips down my chin as I suck harder, hollowing my cheeks. My hand flies faster over the third shaft.

Wet slaps of flesh, grunts and pants fill the room. My mind floats in a haze of lust and sensation. I should feel dirty, used...but I only burn hotter, wetter. I need more. Always more. My tongue swirls and flicks. I bob my head with renewed vigor, taking him deeper into my throat even as I pump the other cock vigorously.

“Fuck, Ayla, just like that. Don’t stop,” Clay rasps , slamming into my core. The delicious friction makes me moan around the dick in my mouth. My body’s on fire, every nerve sparking with desperate need. Owned. Claimed. Theirs.

I work my mouth and hands with extra enthusiasm, driven by an all-consuming desire to make them come undone. To prove myself. Eager to please and be good for them. My jaw aches, my wrist cramps, but I don’t dare relent, spurred on by their reactions - cursing, praising, demanding more.

Tense muscles spasm against my tongue. I feel the tip of the dick in my mouth swell, and I know he’s close. My cunt clenches in anticipation. I suck harder. His cockhead pulses, and then - hot, salty semen shoots down my throat. I swallow, greedy for every drop. His salty essence fuels my own arousal as the other cock in my hand twitches and pulses.

I double my efforts on the dick in my hand, pumping furiously, desperate to make him come too. It doesn’t take long before he grunts and spills his warm seed over my hands. The slick feel of it coating my skin sends a fresh gush of arousal through my core.

Finally, it’s my turn. Pleasure erupts between my legs as I orgasm, screaming through my gagged mouth. I’m drowning in sensation, my body trembling and shuddering around the dick filling me up. I contract around him, milking him dry, as my buried climax washes over me like a tidal wave.

Clay’s thrusts grow erratic, his fingers digging into my hips. “Fuck, I’m gonna--“

His words cut off as he slams deep and stills. I feel him throb inside me, painting my walls with his release.

I collapse bonelessly, spent and sated. The blindfold is gently removed. I blink up at my men through hazy eyes as they unbind my wrists and ankles.

Clay gathers me into his strong arms, cradling me against his solid chest. Teller and Kip settle in close, their heat enveloping me. I’ve never felt so safe, so cherished.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Clay murmurs, brushing damp tendrils of hair from my face. Tenderness shines in his eyes.

“Mmmm, more than okay,” I mumble drowsily, a content smile tugging at my lips. “That was...intense. Amazing.”

“You were perfect,” Kip says softly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.

“Absolutely incredible,” Teller agrees, running a soothing hand down my back.

Cocooned in their embrace, I let my eyes flutter shut. Exhaustion tugs at my consciousness, but it’s overshadowed by a bone-deep sense of rightness. Of belonging.

In the arms of my men, I drift into a peaceful slumber, finally home.