Page 10 of Three Billionaire Grooms and Not the Right Bride

“We don’t appreciate being made fools of, and short of disposing of you, which is how we handle men stupid enough to cross us, being our bride, we’ll settle for a spanking instead.”

“A what?”

“You heard the man. A spanking. Turn around and face the desk now, wife. We’ll spank you over your dress and panties. If you don’t do that willingly, we will have to catch you, take turns to drape you over our laps, lift up your dress, pull down your panties, and spank your bare ass with our hands until you come all over our thighs.”

“Now just hold on a minute,” I say, trying to sound calm and collected. I’m not, and I sound nothing like it, too, so instead my words sound like the cry of a banshee, and since there’s nothing I can do about it, I continue in the same tone.

“Just wait a minute. We can talk this through. There’s no need to...” But they’re not listening to me.

“There is absolutely a need to, bride. This is us being lenient on you.”

I should take the desk option. I get to keep my dress down and my panties on, and I don’t have to come. I can’t believe I thought those words out loud in my head, but it definitely triggers my panic, and stupidly I make a run for it again.

Edison catches me first this time. He’s so strong he effortlessly carries me to a chair where he sits down and drapes me over his lap. His large, calloused hand reaches for my dress, and before I can protest, it’s whipped up over my butt. My panties come off next, and all Edison has to do to keep me in place while he divests me of my underwear is one hand on the small of my back.

A cool breeze drifts over my bare butt. I shriek with renewed panic, but then everything is silenced in my mind as his hand comes down on my naked flesh. The sting is delayed, and for a minute I wonder if he missed me entirely. Maybe this is just a scare tactic.

It is not.

The burn sinks into my skin and uproots nerve endings I never thought I had. My entire body is wrecked with that one strike, and I’m nowhere near ready for the second one when it lands.

Dear god in heaven. What is this sorcery? Why is my body reacting this way? Why can’t I differentiate pain from this blinding, intense, raw, deviant... pleasure? My nipples are so engorged they’re aching, and I’m forced to press against Edison for some relief.

Almost as if he knew what I was doing, Edison brings up his thigh, pressing me against him until my clit brushes against the soft but rough texture of his jeans.

No. No. No.

I can’t stop myself. I’m a train heading for a crash. I’m off the rails. I need to preserve some sanity, some modesty. But then Edison spanks me again, and this time his fingers linger between my thighs and brush against the wet heat of my core.

I bite my lip in defeated shame as I come all over his jeans. Me, who takes forever to give myself an orgasm, just came on a man’s thigh while he spanked me and his friends watched.

My body is no longer my own now. My pussy pulses not with relief but greed. When Cristian gently lifts me off Edison’s lap, I cling to him.

Where Edison’s strikes were dominant and covered the whole of my butt with streaks that would be red tomorrow, Cristian caresses the inside of my thighs, lulling me before he starts to administer his strikes. And then too I’m lulled... into a false sense of calm bliss.

I cry out frantically when he parts my legs and spanks my pussy instead. The only shameful sounds around the room are my whimpers and the wet sounds of my center as he spanks me.

I give myself over to my ignominy and come for him the same way I did for Edison.

Dayton takes me next. He spreads me over his lap, then plays with the redness on my butt. The scrap of his fingernail against my blemished skin drives me insane. Without a care, I rub my clit against his thigh and receive a strike so tight and precise, my body rattles as an orgasm starts hurtling through me. But Dayton isn’t done with me yet. I hear him suck a finger into his mouth.

My eyes fly wide open as I feel him nudge the tip into my bottom hole. Dear god no one is supposed to touch me there. But I can’t stop the climax increasing in speed and coming for me. And as Dayton pushes his finger past the tight rings keeping me sheltered, he uses his other hand and delivers an array of lashes all over my thighs until a flood of wetness streams from me and soaks into his jeans.

What on earth have I done?

Chapter Nine

Hadley

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While I should, by all accounts, slink out of the room in utter shame, I choose not to go quietly.

“You three should be ashamed of yourselves,” I say as I struggle to put my panties back on.

I don’t want to ponder too much on how this looks for me, because they’re the ones in the wrong here. Touching me that way. Making me lose every ounce of control I have. Making me come. All over their jeans. I can’t even bring myself to see the evidence of my cum. But then I do look, and I turn even redder.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” I repeat. “This is nuts. I am not married to you.”