She felt both men come up close to her, felt their heat and their love—their love for her, certainly, but also for Libby. They’d claimed her that day as their daughter, and she had no doubt that vow would be forever, just as the vow that they’d given her was forever.
“What are you thinking, baby?” Brandon asked, his voice just above a whisper.
“I’m looking at her as she is now and, at the same time, seeing her as she was, this tiny beautiful baby the nurse in the delivery room put into my hands. And I’m seeing her as she will be in a handful of years—a confident, well-adjusted young woman who’ll no doubt take the world by storm. She’s awesome, and I’m…humbled. I’m so humbled by the blessing she’s been to me.”
“I watched my mom looking in on my siblings,” Trace said, his voice also soft. “And she had a similar expression on her face.” He exhaled. “Now I understand, a little. Sweetheart? You’ve done an amazing job raising our girl. You’re one hell of a mother. One hell of a woman.”
“Amen.” Brandon slipped his arms around her. “You’ll teach us what we need to know, won’t you? We don’t want to fuck this up. Being Libby’s fathers is so important to us both.”
“You’re already her fathers. You already know the most important thing—and that’s to love her. It’s the most important job any of us ever do, raising a child. And it’s the one that no amount of preparation will ever be sufficient to meet every challenge. In the end, it’s love—and it’s instinct and common sense. If you have the love, the kind of love that has you placing the well-being of your child ahead of yourself? Then the instincts and the common sense, for the most part, will take care of the rest. Mistakes are inevitable and, I think, necessary. They become your teachable moments and how both you and your child learn and grow.”
Rachel slowly spun around so she was facing her men. Her daughter had been pampered and coddled, and they, all three, had, to the best of their abilities, given Libby what she’d needed from them for this day. Now Libby slept deeply—but Rachel was awake. “Please, Sirs. I need you now.”
Brandon’s eyes fairly glittered. Trace’s nostrils flared. It’s so easy to say that and to trust they’ll give me what I need. What a miracle it was to know that there were two men who would take care of her. She didn’t have to be the strong one all the time, not anymore.
They led her across the hall to the master bedroom. Trace closed then locked the door behind them. Brandon led her to the center of the room.
“What do you need, baby?”
“You told me earlier how proud you were of me for holding it together today, and for the most part, I did—except for that one moment when you arrived at Adam’s office and I began to lose it.”
“No one thought less of you for that, Rachel.” Brandon’s frown told her he didn’t quite know what to do with her confession. That was okay. He already knew her so well. He’d figure her out completely, before long.
“I know, Sir.” She’d never had the habit of being completely open, because all that would have gotten her was ridicule. But she was no longer a submissive without a Dom. She had two of them, and she knew the only acceptable thing was for her to bare herself as emotionally to these two men as she so eagerly bared herself physically.
So she took in a deep breath. “There’s this tension inside me. It has me all wound up tight, and I need to let it go. Only I’ve never been very good at doing that.” Rachel met Brandon’s gaze. “I need you to help me do that, Sir. I need you to help me cry.”
Brandon held her gaze for a long moment. Then he looked at Trace, who nodded.
“Strip, Rachel. Give your clothes to Trace and then come to me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Already, just this much of their dominance, was beginning to relax that part of her that had always been on guard, in charge, on duty. Vigilant, always and endlessly vigilant.
Here and now she knew she didn’t have to be any of those things all the time. She could simply be Brandon and Trace’s submissive.
She shed her clothes and felt freedom with each piece discarded. Then she went over to Brandon. He was sitting, not on the bed but on one of the chairs they’d brought in a few weeks before.
He patted his lap, and she gave herself to him. He arranged her the way he wanted her, with her fingers and toes barely touching the floor. His strong hand on her held her in place and made her feel secure on her perch.
“This is not a punishment, baby, nor is it an erotic spanking—though I have no doubt that you’ll be wet when we’re done. This is me, one of your Doms, giving you what you need. I’m going to make you cry.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“I’ll start by warming your ass, to help prevent undue marking.”
She had no idea what he meant by that, until she felt the tiny pops, the intermittent squeezing of her flesh by his hand. She felt her bottom begin to feel warm. The subtle tightening of her nipples and a sense of dampness let her know Brandon knew her body well.
“We’ll begin, now. I won’t give you a number to count. I’m just going to give you as many spanks as I think you need.”
“Yes, Sir.” She was nervous and maybe a little apprehensive. But she knew this would be the fastest, easiest way to get her dam to break. She would no longer need to shower and pinch her own nipples under the spray to get this started.
She felt Brandon’s arm move and heard
