Enlightened [Sexual Magic 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (21 page)

He let go, and her tits slapped loudly back to her chest. He grabbed her wrist and headed down the hallway, hauling her with him.

“Mason, take care of getting the cross ready.” With a shove, he pushed open the play room door and flung her to the center of the room.

He stared at her. “On your knees, spread your cunt and play with yourself, but do not come.”

She sank gracefully down onto the padded carpet. Her gaze never left his as she placed her fingers along her knees and slowly spread her legs. Though her direct look was bold, she nibbled her bottom lip, and her head bowed ever so slightly toward the floor. The sweet aroma of her arousal wafted up to him. He shucked his clothes, tossing them aside, and stepped in front of her. With his foot, he tapped her right hand and nudged her fingers upward, toward her apex. “Start playing with that cunt, slut.”

Her beautiful green eyes hazed over with lust, falling to half-mast. She cupped her slit then stroked upward, fingertips sliding along her slick lips. With a strangled moan, she tapped at her clit.

Still using his foot, Griff nudged her other hand. “Use that one, too. Fuck yourself for me.”

Emma’s body twitched. “Yes, Sir.” She spread the dripping lips of her bare pussy with her other hand and wiggled one finger inside her hole. Immediately she arched.

Mason, also naked, appeared next to him. “It’s ready. Put two fingers in your pussy.”

Her gaze bounced to his face, and she wiggled on the carpet but obediently slid another finger into her snatch. Her sigh was deep and pleasure filled. Griff wondered if she’d even make three strokes before coming. As much as he was looking forward to whipping her, he hoped not.

“Faster, slut. Get that pussy wet and sloppy with your juices.”

“Widen your fingers,” Mason inserted. “Stretch yourself as you pull your fingers out.”

Emma complied, her breathing growing ragged as her hands sped up.

“You want to come, don’t you, slut?” Griff asked, stalking in front of her. He cupped his hardening dick and stroked it slowly. He straddled her spread thighs and bent so the head of his cock was at her face level and slapped her lightly with it.

She moaned. “Yes, Sir, I want to come.”

“No. Three fingers.”

She gasped and stilled. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back then started slapping her tits. “Mason, bring the clover clamps. That’s two more strokes you’ve just added. Three fingers, now.”

Passion and excitement spread over her face followed by a wince as she eased a third finger into her pussy. She grunted as the second knuckle passed through her tight hole. Griff’s cock tightened in response. He leaned back, still thumping her nipples, and looked.

“God, that’s beautiful,” he murmured. “Your pussy lips are stretched and glistening deep red. I love how your fingers are being swallowed by your hot, grasping hole. How do you feel?”

“Full, Sir,” she murmured.

“Good. Start stroking.”

She nodded and slowly pulled her wet fingers out to the tips then slid them back in. Her eyelids fluttered, and she again bit her lip. “Feels good,” she said.

Mason appeared at his side, clover clamps dangling.

Griff grabbed them and slipped the metal over her ripe and hot nipples then tugged lightly. She swayed and looked down.

He grabbed the chain dangling between her beautiful big tits and lifted upward. “The beauty of these clamps, little slut, is the more you move, the tighter they get.”

He pulled a bit harder. “On your feet. Time to get whipped.”

She pulled her hand from her pussy with a juicy slurp that made his cock even harder than before. Emma rose unsteadily, cheeks flushed a delightful pink that journeyed down her throat and all the way to her tits.

“Nice,” Griff murmured then smacked her on the ass. “Let’s go.”

The wooden cross took up a large portion of the corner where it stood. Made of thick pine and stained a dark mahogany, the tops jutted toward the ceiling with ominous power, the size and scale intended to intimidate the sub about to be strapped to it. Wide vinyl bands were attached to the uprights, both at hand and foot level.

They’d installed an optional waist belt for the exceptionally squirmy, but Griff wanted every inch of Emma’s beautiful body available to take the kiss of his leather.

“Hands up,” he said.

She looked at the cross with trepidation before a fine tremor wracked her. Goose bumps rose all over her body, and he grinned. “Nervous?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said on a whisper.

“Good. Safe word?”

“Journal.”

Griff nodded and slapped the wood. The sharp retort echoed in the room. She jumped and moved forward.

“Arms up.”

She stretched both toward the ceiling. Mason grabbed one and strapped her in, while Griff took care of the other. Then he splayed his palm at the small of her back, fingers dipping into the furrow of her sweet ass, and pressed her pelvis into the wooden cross. “Get nice and tight up against the wood, sweetheart,” he murmured in her ear. “You’re going to need the support.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and licked her lips, then slowly snugged herself even closer to the wood.

He patted her butt in approval, and then they attached the cuffs to her ankles. He took both floggers Mason handed him. He dropped the horsehair one to the floor. He would use that later knowing it was best to get her endorphins going with the leather flogger first. He walked around the cross until he faced her. Sliding the leather throngs through his fingers, Griff studied her intently. “I will stop for only two reasons.”

She winced. “Which reasons would those be, Sir?”

“If you use your safe word.”

She shook her head empathically, a move he was expecting and one that hitched his lust even higher. Emma’s determination to take his whip turned him on to no end.

“Or if I draw blood.”

Her pupils dilated with that information, her pretty lips pursing into a moue of surprise. “All right.”

He chucked her under the chin with the whip, letting the straps sway over her tits. “I wasn’t asking permission, little slut.”

With that, he strode behind her. “Mason, stand in front of her. Give her a show by stroking your cock.”

Mason nodded and took his position in front of Emma. Through the X of the cross, he could see his partner, hard dick in hand and passion on his face. “Ah, like the sight of me playing with myself, do you?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“Hm. Excellent.”

Griff drew the flogger back and let it rain down on her back with much less force than he figured she was anticipating. The slap and thud of the leather against her silken shoulders went right to his cock.

He struck her again, gauging her reactions. He met Mason’s gaze and a sudden wash of lust burst through him. Oh, hell yeah, she was enjoying it.

Griff picked up the pace. He walked in a small arc behind her, using a criss-cross overhand motion as he whipped her. The blows were still light, designed to draw the blood to the surface and sensitize the skin.

Her butt undulated as if she sought out the leather throngs, and he applied more pressure while increasing the speed.

Emma began to gasp and moan with each blow. Mason’s face was a mask of concentrated desire, and his hand continued its slow path up and down his cock.

Griff’s balls tightened in response. God, how he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to slam his dick so far into her tight pussy that she felt him in her throat.

He growled at the savage image and increased the blows once more.

Her small
oohs
and
ahs
titillated him, pushed him to continue. He gave her four very hard slashes to the ass, pinkening it up nicely, then stilled. His chest heaved, and he was covered in a sheen of sweat.

She twisted her head to the side. “Sir?”

Griff bent and picked up the horsehair flogger. “You’re not bleeding, slut, and you didn’t say your safe word. This one is going to be more painful. It’s horsehair.” He slapped at her spine, the backs of her thighs, scored her calves. She danced on the cross, murmurs of delight and pain emitting from her.

Another burn of need burst through him. He looked at Mason. His cock was purple and as hard as he’d ever seen it.

He lifted a brow. Mason might be dominant over Emma, but he bowed to Griff. “Yes?” Griff asked silkily.

He began to whip Emma again. He started with slow, almost gentle strokes, building her back up.

Mason matched the speed of his blows, eyes still focused on Griff. “Please, Sir, may I come?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” Mason said on a long moan.

“Keep that cock hard and hot and in your hand.”

“Yes, Sir.”

The air in the room burned bright and hot at the words, and Griff chuckled as he moved outside the arc and lashed at Emma’s waist and tits. “You like hearing him say that to me, don’t you, little slut?”

“Oh, yes, Sir.”

He moved to the other side, slapping harder and harder. Her skin had to be on fire by now. Her entire body was flushed a deep red, and she bore more than a few marks from the flogger’s bite.

Griff stepped around until her long, lean back faced him. He gripped the flogger loosely in his hand and drew in a deep breath. The next few minutes would make or break her.

And him.

He drew his arm back and began a flurry of hard blows that rained up and down her entire body, from her shoulders to the soles of her feet when she rose on tiptoe.

Emma thrashed and wailed in her bonds. Great, gulping cries tore from her throat, but he didn’t stop. Below the noise of her pain, he caught and held the exhilaration she felt. Her entire system was on lust overload, and she was soaking it in.

“More, Sir, more. Whip me more, please.”

Her pleading litany tore at him, pleased him, aroused him.

“Fuck,” Mason gasped. “She’s a whip bitch.” His hand blurred as he stroked his cock. He moved closer, arched his hips, and groaned as he came, spewing all over her tits and the cross.

“Yes,” she screamed. “Whip me! Coat me in your cum. Oh God, do it. Use me, Sirs. Use this slut!”

The desire suddenly rose higher and higher, screaming toward a peak that Griff recognized. She was approaching orgasm, and when she came, her crash would be epic.

Bracing himself, he redoubled his blows and counted six before she stiffened backward, jerking hard against the cross and screaming at the top of her lungs as she came.

The orgasm was powerful and seared through him like the blows he’d just been raining down on Emma. It set off his own climax. Griff gripped his dick and sprayed cum over her pink and streaked back and ass.

She yelped and bucked at her bonds, unintelligible mutterings and moans escaping from her. He stood close behind, hands on her hips as she continued to jerk and thrash.

“Mason, get those damn clamps off her,” he shouted.

Emma’s emotions were as wild and turbulent as the Black Sea as she broke from subspace and crashed back to reality. He was already fumbling at the cuffs to free her when she started to shake.

Mason worked her ankle cuffs, releasing them just as she pitched backward, thudding into Griff’s chest with a wet splat.

“Get a towel,” Griff murmured. He turned Emma around in his arms and cuddled her close. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart.”

She stared up at him, her green eyes glazed and uncomprehending. Her shaking grew worse, and then two fat tears fought free and rolled down her cheeks. Her teeth began to chatter.

“Easy, easy, Emma.”

Mason swiped at her back with the towel then her belly. His big hand nudged Griff’s cock as he cleaned him off, too. Griff was sure the touch was deliberate.

“Let’s get her to the couch,” Griff said and swung her into his arms.

She was as limp and pliable as a rag doll.

He watched her blank face with worry as he strode down the hall toward the living room. “God damn it,” he muttered.

Still holding her trembling body close, he sank onto the couch. Mason grabbed the burnt-orange throw, dropped next to him, and swaddled the three of them beneath it.

He stroked her hair while Griff rubbed her tummy, her flank, anywhere he could find to settle her shaking.

More tears rolled down her face, and she sniffled once. Twice. Then she burst into huge sobs that tore at his heart even as her wild emotions wrapped their way through him.

Absurdly, tears burned his own eyes, and he blinked rapidly.

Mason lifted a trembling hand and cupped his neck, squeezing lightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Griff said and swallowed. “Intense, that’s all.”

“No shit.”

Griff shifted Emma in his arms and brushed a kiss over her forehead, murmuring soft, nonsensical words to her as Mason rubbed her shoulders and neck.

The minutes stretched out, but gradually her cries lessened, her body lost its stiffness, and her eyes started to regain their familiar gleam.

She sniffled once more, lifted her palm and cupped his cheek, then reached out for Mason.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Mason smoothed his knuckle over her jaw. “I came all over you.”

They all laughed, and she relaxed into Griff’s arms, snuggling beneath his chin. “That was amazing. I felt so alive, so energized.”

He cuddled her close, inhaling the sweet scent of her arousal and feminine sweat.
Glorious
. “You took it so well, sweetheart. I’m very proud of you.”

She blushed and burrowed closer, turning her face almost into his armpit. “Thank you, Sir.”

“I was watching your face as he whipped you, Emma,” Mason said.

She lifted her head, eyes bright with curiosity. A tingle zipped over Griff’s skin, and he realized her lust was rekindling.

It was too soon. Wasn’t it?

His cock stirred beneath her soft form, and she darted a knowing look in his direction.

“What did you see?” she asked.

“You on fire and enjoying it. Every time the flogger came down, connected with your skin, wrapped itself against your body, you quivered and pure ecstasy flooded your face. How many times did you come?”