Chapter 14

Tara

What the hell is that noise? It sounds like two lions attacking each other in the hallway. I peek my head out the door and—

Oh shit!

Racing over to the bed, I grab a blanket and tie it around myself, then shoot out the door to stop the fight between Mr. Hudson and Dmitri.

"Stop!" I yell.

They're pounding each other. Or rather, Ryker is walloping on Dmitri, who's doing the bare minimum to stop him. When Dmitri finally pushes back, Mr. Hudson slams against the wall so hard, it leaves a dent in the drywall. Mr. Hudson shoves Dmitri, screaming as he drives him backwards, and now there's a Dmitri sized dent in the other wall.

"Stop it!" Getting closer to them will likely risk an elbow to my face, so I look up and wave my hands at the camera in the corner down the hall. "Someone help!"

"Don't worry about it, Sweetheart." Dmitri grunts as Mr. Hudson punches him in the gut. "He hits like a little bitch, anyway."

Ryker swings a left hook that makes Dmitri spin around and fall to the floor, blood spraying out of his mouth.

A door opens down the hall and Vault runs towards us. Instead of pulling Ryker off Dmitri like I expect, he manhandles me instead and starts pulling me back towards my suite. "Get back inside, Butterfly. You don't need to be here for this."

"Get off me!" I yank my arm out of his loose grip and turn back to the fight.

"Butterfly," Vault growls. "It's for your own safety."

"I'm not the one bleeding all over the floor!" I jerk away when he grabs me again. "Get off me!"

"Touch her again and I'll tear your fucking hands off, Vault."

We both freeze and my eyes widen when Mr. Hudson slowly rises to his feet. His chest expands with his heavy breaths and blood drips from his split lip. Dmitri rolls over and stands up, swaying on his feet even as he laughs.

Crazy motherfuckers.

My gaze bounces between them, but I back up when Mr. Hudson storms towards us growling, "Back away from her."

Vault's hands fly up, and he takes several paces back from me. "I didn't hurt her."

Mr. Hudson doesn't look like he believes him, not with how his eyes lock on my arm where Vault's hand just was.

I shake my head. "He didn't hurt me. He was only trying to keep me safe."

Ryker doesn't seem to hear me. Or see me. It's like he's in some other headspace, too far away for us to reach. He wraps a gentle hand around my throat, his gaze sailing across my face, down my neck, and to my chest where I'm clutching the bedsheet wrapped around me.

"He didn't hurt me, Ryker. Mr. Hudson. Sir." Fuck, I can't think straight with him on me like this. It's hot and scary at the same time. "I promise."

His eyes drop to my arm again, like he's checking it for red marks or something. Then he snaps back to my eyes and leans into my face. "Go back to your suite, Butterfly. Now."

"Not…" Oh my god, why am I so turned on right now? "Not without you."

"She's not the one," Dmitri says from several feet away.

It makes Mr. Hudson's grip on my throat release and his hand fall to his side.

"She's not the fucking one, Ry."

Mr. Hudson moans and leans into me, pressing his forehead against mine. His eyes close. His breaths punch out, fast and hard. His shoulders shake with what I assume is fury.

She's not the one. I have no clue what that means. Should I be insulted or grateful? It doesn't matter. "Come back to the room with me," I whisper. "Please, Sir."

Ryker's voice cracks. "He didn't hurt you?"

"No." It's like the fight, or what started it, no longer matters to him. All he seems to care about is my safety. "I'm fine. Come see for yourself."

Mr. Hudson doesn't escort me back to my room. He grabs my hands and squeezes them tight, then presses his forehead to mine harder, and starts walking, driving me backwards until we're both back in the Butterfly suite. He eases up once we're inside, but his gaze never stops burning into mine.

Holy shit, my heart's forgotten how to beat.

The door shuts behind us and he continues to drive me through the suite and towards the bed. The bedsheet wrapped around me is too long, and he accidentally steps on it. I realize too late, and step back more, making the sheet unfold and fall to the floor.

He continues maneuvering me, manipulating and guiding my footsteps until my ass hits the side of the mattress and I drop onto the bed. Then he falls to his knees and spreads my legs. "You're not hurt."

"N-no." I don't understand why he's acting like a bizarre animal.

He shoves his nose against my pussy and stills. His shoulders tense and I'm not sure how to respond. I press my hand against his head in encouragement, but he jerks away from me. "Don't do that."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

Running his hands up and down my calves, he looks up at me again and we stare at each other. "Don't be afraid of me."

"I'm not."

"You are. Your eyes give it away."

"I…" Okay, I'm a little scared because I don't understand his behavior. And more pressing is the fact that it's turning me on when it's probably a big red flag. "I just don't understand you."

"You're not supposed to, Butterfly." He spreads my pussy lips and shoves his tongue inside me, licking and tasting. "You're just supposed to enjoy me, Tara."

My name on his lips is a spell. I'm certain of it. And when he stares at me like he is right now, I forget all about my worries and focus on his mouth, his gaze, and the way his hands run up my inner thighs. He tongue-fucks me until I'm a writhing mess. My orgasm comes so fast, I'm almost ashamed.

"That's my good girl," he says in a low tone. "Lay back and enjoy it."

My brain fritzes for a second before I'm able to collect my thoughts and take the reins. Fool me once, Mr. Hudson, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I'm not about to let him play the "Make Tara come until she passes out so I can leave" game again.

"Red." Part of me feels like it's an abusive way to use my safe word, but it has the outcome I need. Sir pulls away from me immediately. His gaze searches mine, likely seeking an answer for why I'd call Red when all he's doing is giving me much wanted pleasure. "You're hurt, Sir."

"I'm fine."

He's far from it.

"Your knuckles," I say quietly.

Looking down, it's as if he's just noticed how busted they are. Maybe his anger made him numb earlier. Maybe using my body as a sexual distraction dulled his senses, too. But I'm not about to let him pretend he didn't just have a major tantrum outside, and then come back in here to play mind games with me.

"Come into the bathroom so I can clean you up." I slink off the bed, hoping he'll follow me, which he doesn't do until I call for him again from the bathroom.

Mr. Hudson enters cautiously, confusion making his mouth turn down.

"Sit." I get the first aid kit from the cupboard.

He plops down on the edge of the massive tub. "This isn't necessary."

"Neither is making me come until I pass out, but here we are." I get on my knees between his legs and grab his right hand first. "Looks like we both go the extra mile for each other."

His hand is rougher than I thought it would be. I'm used to being with men who sit behind a desk all day. It makes me wonder what Ryker does when he's not pleasuring a woman, running a sex club, or beating the shit out of his friends.

He inhales sharply through clenched teeth when I dab a soapy washcloth to his cut knuckles.

"Sorry." I make sure to be as gentle as possible.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have acted like that out there."

"I think that apology should go to Dmitri, not me." Looking up at him, I tack on, "Sir."

Mr. Hudson takes his hand back before I'm finished cleaning it. Shoving up to his feet, he storms out of my bathroom without saying a word, leaving me on my knees in front of the bathtub, gawking after him. Part of me fears if he walks out my suite door right now, he won't come back.

I'm not willing to risk that.

"Ryker!" I scamper to my feet and dash out of the bathroom, only to find him digging around the trunk behind the chaise.

His gaze snaps to mine and his eyes narrow. "What did you just call me, Butterfly?"

This man's mood shifts are giving me whiplash. Instead of answering him like a good little submissive, I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the doorjamb. "You heard me."

He walks over, carrying a flogger that has red and black leather tassels, and a smirk creeps across his handsome face. "Are you familiar with a flogger, Butterfly?"

Yes, but I've never used one of those before. And in his current state of mind, I sure as shit don't want him using it on me right now. "I don't want that."

"That's not what I asked, Tara."

Again, the way he says my name makes my pussy clench. It's like the word itself is something he wants to spit out yet savor on his tongue at the same time. Or at least that's what my overactive imagination thinks. "Only a little."

"Give me more than that. Have you been flogged before?"

"No." My cheeks heat. "I did use a riding crop once, though."

"That's not the same as this." He swishes the tassels. "But did you like the crop when you used it?"

"No." My heart pounds in my chest. "It stung too much and left big welts."

He combs his fingers through the tassels and approaches slowly. "It only hurts if you want to make it hurt."

Shaking my head, I'm not sure I believe that. Getting flogged isn't something on my bucket list, but I also didn't come here for vanilla sex. I wanted to be the Butterfly so I can experience things no one else will share with me. Still, Mr. Hudson isn't in the headspace for happy fun times with a whip. Unless…

"Let me use it on you." The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"There's an art to flogging someone, and I'm not about to let you whip my back or any other body part without experiencing it yourself first." He points to the floor. "On your knees, Butterfly."

When I don't budge, he surprises me by taking a step back. "Would you be more comfortable if I used this on someone else first, to show you what it's like?"

"Yes." But I have no clue who that might be.

I also don't think he's in a good space to be using that thing on anyone. He just threw hands with his security guard for crying out loud. Now he's calm as a cucumber and wanting sex? I don't get it.

Mr. Hudson walks backwards, keeping his eyes on me while making his way to my suite door. Reaching behind him, he opens it and simply says, "Come in here."

I had no clue there was someone on the other side of our door this whole time. My jaw drops when Dmitri enters. He's got a swollen left eye, a split lip, and his thick neck still has Ryker's handprint around it. But he doesn't act hurt at all. In fact, he's just as calm, cool, and collected as Ryker is.

These guys are fucking crazy.

Why am I turned on by that?

"My Butterfly wants to use this flogger on me," Mr. Hudson explains. "But she's never used one before."

Dmitri chuckles. "Then let's give her a beginner's lesson."

"Is that okay with you, Butterfly?"

I'm baffled. Did these two not just have a fist fight five minutes ago? Why would Ryker ask him to be in here?

"I asked you a question, Tara."

I fix my gaze on Dmitri as he pulls his black t-shirt off. Christ this man's stacked.

And scarred.

"Yes," I finally say to Ryker. "I'm totally okay with this. I want to learn."

Guess what's just been added to Tara's sex-filled bucket list, boys and girls.

I try to not stare at Dmitri's scars, but when he drops to his knees, he grants me a genuine smile and says, "They're from a long time ago."

Like that makes it any better? I also notice there are fresh bruises on his ribs. "Did you give him those too, Sir?"

"No," both men say at the same time.

"I like violence, Butterfly. It gets me off." Dmitri jabs his finger into his ribs and hisses with a pain, even as his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

My mouth waters and pussy clenches, while my mind screams that this is a bad idea. "That's… not helpful to me if you're now about to convince me that a whip won't hurt."

"She's got a point, D." Mr. Hudson's smile is a little bigger now. And more real. "How about we switch."

The men change positions. Mr. Hudson carefully unbuttons his white dress shirt, rolling his shoulders back as he takes it off and lays it on the floor beside him. Dmitri looms over Ryker's back, and both are staring directly at me.

These two men are powerful.

Bloody and powerful and here to teach me.

Why is this such a fucking turn on?

"The tassels on this one are soft," Mr. Hudson explains. "Feel them, Butterfly."

My hand trembles when I touch the whip Dmitri holds out for me. The leather is super soft, like fringe.

"Hold your palm flat," Dmitri orders. When I do, he hits me with the whip. It doesn't hurt at all. "How was that?"

"Green," I say, automatically fixating on Ryker. "Very green."

"Show her how to swing it." Ryker stays on his knees with his hands resting on his thighs. He doesn't break eye contact with me. Not even when Dmitri makes the first strike across his back.

The sound of impact isn't hard or sharp like I expect. It's almost lazy and slow. "That's not how it works," I say, more to myself than them. Every time I've seen a toy like this used downstairs, the strikes are so harsh, I always flinch hearing them.

"It is when you first start and you're new." Ryker keeps still while Dmitri hits him again and again, moving the strikes back and forth across his shoulder blades. Each hit gets a little faster, and a little harder as he keeps a steady rhythm. The tassel's rustles grow louder and become more uniform. Mr. Hudson's eyes soon glaze over. A calmness takes over his body, his posture sagging as his mouth parts and expression relaxes.

"Your Dom drops into subspace fast like this," Dmitri says to me. "Does he look hurt to you?"

I shake my head, unable to pull my gaze from Mr. Hudson. He looks sublime. Beautiful.

"That's because he chose a very sweet flogger for you, Butterfly. He's not going to hurt you. Not unless you negotiate ahead of time and give consent first."

"Pain isn't my kink." Shit, I shouldn't have said it like that. "I mean, no offense. You do you, but…" I still can't pull my eyes from Ryker. It's like his head has shut off.

I want that for myself too. But more so, I want to give Ryker this level of euphoria. I know he's hurting, even if I don't know why, and if I can help ease that pain for him by doing something like this, I want to learn how.

Dmitri continues flogging him, harder, faster. Ryker lets out a small groan and tips forward. My mouth waters at the sight of his back—it's got small pink welts and a few red slash marks.

"Does it hurt yet?" I ask, dropping down on my knees, dying to run my hands across his sweaty skin.

"No," Ryker confesses in a deep tone. He arches when I run my fingers along his back. "Fuck, woman."

I pull away instantly. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not at all. Your cold fingers feel incredible on me."

I run my hands along his back again, loving that my touch may offer some relief.

Dmitri leans down and grumbles in my ear, "Would you like a turn, Butterfly?"

Considering Dmitri could have very well whipped the hell out of Ryker for what just happened outside, but instead gave him only pleasure, and the way Ryker is still glassy-eyed and groaning? I can't imagine a better way to experience this for the first time.

"Yes, please." My hands wrap around the soft leather corded handle of the flogger.

"Swing just like I showed you."

My strikes are nowhere near as precise as Dmitri's. I don't think Ryker cares. The power I feel is astounding. Ryker trusting me like this means so much, I'd never fuck it up. To know each slash I make across his back somehow brings him relief, makes my chest crack open.

There's so much pain. So much aggression. So much everything inside him.

Does flogging shove those emotions back down in their hole, or does it give them a way out of his body?

My voice drops to a sultry tone as lust floods my body. "What color are you?"

"Green." He runs his hands over his thighs. "Very green, Butterfly."

"Do you want to feel what he feels?"

Dmitri's icy blue eyes connect with mine, pulling me under his spell too. I don't know what's happening to my head right now, but I feel light as a feather. "Yes." God, yes.

"I'll do you both together, if you wish."

Holy Hell. "Okay." I mirror Mr. Hudson's position, and brace for Dmitri's first strike.

"Relax, Butterfly. Trust your Dom to keep you safe."

"Light system," Ryker reminds me as he threads his hand in mine. "All you have to do is say green, yellow, or red, remember?"

"Mmm hmm. I remember, Sir."

"That's my good girl."

Such a small phrase, just a minuscule bit of praise, has me willing to let both these men destroy my body.

But they don't.

Dmitri starts slow and soft, just like he did with Ryker, and before long, I'm yearning for more impact. These hits don't sting at all. They're more of a thud. A light pounding against my muscles. "Harder, please."

"She begs so beautifully," Dmitri says darkly.

Mr. Hudson's hand is still on top of mine, but it's damp. "What color are you, Tara?"

"Green."

"Good." He lets go of me and stands. "Will you allow me to have a turn with you now?"

"Yes." I'm dying to know if there's a difference between their methods. My body is hot and flushed. My pussy is slick and aching with need. I feel so good. So floaty.

Dmitri squats down in front of me. "Eyes on me, Butterfly."

I lock gazes with him just as Mr. Hudson's flogger lands on my left shoulder blade. It's not nearly as hard as I want it to be. "More."

He strikes again and again, his rhythm eventually speeding up, his force builds and builds. I'm not sure if I'm in subspace or not, but I like the way this feels. A lot.

"What color are you, Butterfly?"

"Green."

His next strike is noticeably harder.

"Keep your gaze on me." Dmitri holds my chin between his fingers. The flogger lands harder on my back again. "You're doing so well for us."

My eyes flutter shut. This feels so fucking good.

"Open for me," Dmitri says.

Does he mean my eyes or my mouth? Or is he talking about my legs? I'll open all three at the same time if they want me to. I want more than my back lashed. I need more. I want to be overwhelmed and taken to some faraway place where I can escape my reality. My brain feels so fuzzy. I want to be fucked and overpowered.

Dominated.

"Eyes on me," Dmitri says again since I've yet to obey him.

The delicious impact on my back suddenly stops. Ryker's body heat sinks into my skin when he gets on his knees behind me and presses his bare chest against my back. Wrapping his hand around my throat, he tips my head. "Open your eyes, Tara."

It's harder than it should be to obey. I feel sleepy and foggy headed. "I'm-with-you," I say, my words slur together. "I'm still green."

They get me onto the bed.

"She's perfect." Dmitri swipes the hair from my face and kisses my cheek. "Thank you for the privilege, Butterfly."

He leaves just as Mr. Hudson unbuckles his belt.