Lord & Master (11 page)

“No, no,” he said when I would have released my grip. “That’s a lovely pose. Don’t change it on my account.”

“He’d like it even better if you let him fasten you to the rail with those leather straps.”

I’d thought the straps were a bridle that needed repairing. Apparently not.

“May I?” Jake asked. “I’ll do the buckles loose enough for you to slip free if you want to.”

“You don’t care whether I’m really trapped?”

“I do,” he said, “but I like the look of it either way.”

Did I trust him? Was I capable of judging wisely when I was this aroused?

“Choose as you like,” Damien said. “It’s important to us that this pleasures you.”

He said
us
so easily. I wanted to take part in that
esprit de corps
. I didn’t know if the longing was wrong or right—or even feasible. There seemed only one way to find out. I nodded, and Jake rose out of the chair.

He hadn’t lied. He fastened the straps with sufficient give to pull out of them if I wished. He sat again, his movements stiff and his breathing changed. His legs were spread to either side of the chair back. He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs.

He seemed to have forgotten how to smirk.

“Go ahead,” Damien said. “Study his erection.”

A little shiver seized me when I did. The rise at his crotch was large. I tore my gaze away to look at Damien.

“Thank you,” my husband said. “I’m grateful you trust us.”

He kissed me even as I wondered if I’d decided that. As his mouth took mine, his chest rested on me lightly, his legs and forearms supporting him. I twisted unavoidably with desire. My body knew the bliss his could bring.

My hold on the headrail helped lever me against him.

“That’s it,” Damien praised huskily.

He pulled my leg higher on his side, exposing the whole of it plus a portion of my rump to Jake. Then he caressed me from waist to knee as if to guide his friend’s attention along my curves. I clutched the railing tighter, my pussy flooding with desire.

“May I?” Damien asked. A suggestive motion of his hips clarified the question. He meant could he make love to me.

It was difficult to think straight. I craved him inside me as he’d been last night. “Jake will stay where he is?”

“He will,” Damien promised.

“Yes, then,” I said softly.

His hand moved between us to open his clothing. I loved his eagerness to bare himself, to join us together. His silky tip nudged my folds and burrowed between them. Damien looked at me, skin flushed, dark gold hair fallen over his forehead.

If I could have painted him then, I would.

“I’m ready,” I assured him.

He pushed, his hot lovely rod forging slowly into my sheath. I groaned, already addicted to the sensation of him filling me.

“Mm,” Damien hummed when he reached both our limits.

He pulled back and notched me again, firmly enough that his pelvis ground the swollen button at my apex. He must have known I liked that, because he repeated the motion.

To my very great satisfaction, this ride was longer than the one he’d given me before, when he’d been concerned for my virgin state. Now I savored every second of rising tension, gradually giving myself over to sensuality. The straps that bound my wrists were reassuring—as if they’d keep me safe no matter how much control I lost to abandonment.

I sucked a breath as Damien’s hips dug more insistently into me.

“Too much?” he asked raggedly.

“Not enough,” I dared to answer, thrusting to him from both heels.

He growled softly, his face dropping to my throat. Perhaps he relished my bound state too. He slid one hand up my arms, as if to confirm I was secured. His breath was choppy, and I sensed him struggling not to finish. The guttural noises he made were wonderful. They told me I had power, though I was the one beneath. I heaved up to force him deeper between my legs, to claim more of that ascendance. The bed creaked as we thumped it, and Damien groaned my name.

Suddenly another hand wrapped mine. Not Damien’s. I felt sweat and heat and calluses on the palms.

“Jake,” Damien gasped, as if he had to acknowledge him.

My excitement surged. Knowing the other man was there, that he hadn’t been able to resist fondling my restraints, drove such an ache between my legs I could hardly bear the suspense.

Did Jake feel the same? Was he as hungry for release as I?

Damien addressed my pangs with a frenzied hammering of his cock. Possibly he couldn’t help doing it, but it was just the trick for me. My ache spiked into something sweeter. I came with a long raw cry. Damien slung into me and finished, adding his wetness to my own.

He sagged on me afterward. I tugged my hands from the buckle straps to stroke his back and head. His hair was thick, his bunched shoulders slowly relaxing. He moaned with pleasure, nuzzling into me to encourage my caresses. In that moment, he truly seemed as if he were mine.

A chair scraped back on the bare stone floor.

Damien turned his head. “Don’t leave,” he slurred.

“You two deserve your privacy,” Jake said.

Damien sat up. “Stay. I want to show her what I like to do to you.”

I wriggled back and sat up too. We hadn’t pulled down the covers. The best I could do to reclaim my modesty was to fold my thighs and knees together. Jake watched me do it, and I couldn’t control my blush. His color was high as well. Did he know Damien’s seed was leaking from me onto his bed?

He considered me. “Do you want to watch what he does to me?”

Now that my desires had been satisfied, I was more rational—or at least more cautious. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

“I’d rather you did,” he said firmly. I blinked, and he smiled at me. “You’re not the only one who enjoys being on display to the audience of your choosing.”

I began to splutter that I enjoyed no such thing.

“You don’t need to hide the truth. Not from yourself and certainly not from us. We approve of you, exactly as you are.”

They barely knew me . . . which made the words no less seductive. Didn’t most humans long for acceptance?

“Could he . . . pleasure you with his mouth?” I asked. “I wouldn’t mind seeing it done correctly.”

Jake appeared amused. “That’s practical of you.”

“Come here then,” Damien said to him. “While you’re nice and ready.”

Obedient for this, Jake moved to stand in front of him. Damien’s pants remained undone. As he unfastened Jake’s with practiced motions, I noticed my husband’s organ looked less relaxed. It had thickened at the middle and stretched farther along his lap.

I confess this transformation fascinated me. To me, the resurgence of his arousal was as good as a magic trick.

Damien laughed when he saw where my eyes had gone. “You’re missing the actual show.”

“You’re both worth watching,” I said boldly.

Jake made a low, pleased noise, the sound more effective than any argument in drawing my attention. Damien held his cock in one hand and was slowly stroking it.

“He’s as big as you,” I said.

“I hadn’t measured,” Damien threw off airily. “Perhaps some time you can stack us up side by side.”

He laughed at my expression. He knew I was intrigued as well as scandalized.

“Do you remember the parts?” he asked like a good tutor.

“Glans,” I said, pointing to it without touching. “Shaft. You called those balls, but I think they’re more properly referred to as testicles.”

Jake snorted. “She’s got you there, Damien.”

“Perhaps you’d cup them for me,” my spouse suggested silkily. “Keep them from swinging at me while I work.”

I hesitated, but I truly did wish to help. His flesh felt strange in my palm: very warm, very . . . personal. Jake moved his feet wider. He must trust me to let me hold him here.

“Is this all right?” I asked, glancing up at him.

His blazing blue gaze darkened. He put his larger hand around mine, nudging it closer. “It’s good. Please don’t let go no matter what happens.”

My mouth fell open. Precisely what did he expect to happen?

“Please begin,” Jake said to Damien.

The way Damien worked his jaw reminded me of a fighter rolling his shoulders to prepare for a boxing match. He looked at me before starting.

“I’m paying attention,” I promised.

He smiled faintly. His thumb was on the strut beneath Jake’s erection—pushing it higher, I believed. His next words confirmed my guess. “The first rule of giving head is to control the angle. If at all possible, keep your hand on your partner’s shaft. If you direct his glans toward your hard palate, he’s less likely to go down your throat. Some people don’t mind having a penis there, but for most, it’s not very comfortable.”

Damien demonstrated by pushing his mouth halfway down Jake’s cock. His lips were snug, their movement and that of his cheeks suggesting he sucked the flesh they were wrapped around. It must have felt pleasant. Jake’s breath hissed inward, his hand tensing and then relaxing over mine.

When Damien pulled off him, Jake’s sexual skin was shining.

Damien rubbed the sheen with the pad of his thumb. To me, the casual manner with which he touched him was breathtaking. “Second rule of fellatio: Wet is good, no matter if it’s messy. Use your tongue and don’t be shy about saliva. Third: be careful of your teeth. This is not the place to experiment with love bites.”

“Is there a fourth rule?”

“Learn your partner’s pleasure zones. The head is more sensitive, of course, and usually this patch on the neck beneath. If you’re getting tired, you can focus on those areas to bring him off more quickly. You can also work him with your hand if you need a break. Most men like a blowjob to last. Being sucked is highly pleasurable.”

This was all quite informative. I cleared my throat and fought an urge to squirm. “You’ve done this more than once.”

“I came to the practice late, but I enjoy attaining competence at new skills.”

Jake coughed a little laugh. I suspected it meant Damien was more than competent.

“Very well,” Damien said. “Enough talking.”

He bent to his friend. One hand braced on Jake’s waist while the other controlled the angle of his penis as it glided between his lips. Slowly he made the man’s cock vanish, and slowly he rose again. I saw his tongue work the spots he’d said were more sensitive. Jake breathed a sound that might have been a curse.

The surface of my skin flashed hot.

Jake’s fingers rubbed my knuckles, reminding me not to squeeze too hard. My palm was sweating on his testicles, my thighs pressed tightly together. Watching Damien perform this act stirred all sorts of emotions. Surely people weren’t meant to do this to each other, and yet how could they resist? Sex was a primal drive, and this was sex utterly focused on sensation. Jake’s erection darkened as Damien stimulated it, his lungs going in and out. Though Damien wasn’t rushing, I could tell the pleasure Jake experienced was potent.

Damien was breathing harder too. He pulled up to take a pause. “Would you like to try?” he offered politely.

I checked Jake’s face. “Should I?”

The stable master stroked a fallen lock back behind my ear. “I’d like you to very much.”

“My mouth is smaller than his.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t like it.”

I felt rather nervous but scooted over when Damien made room for me.

“I’ll hold him for you,” he said.

The stable master’s rumbling groan said that idea appealed.

“You want us working you together?”

“Yes,” he said. “Please.”

Why was that word
please
so magical? It steadied my jumping nerves. I leaned forward, licked my lips, and pressed them over him.

The satiny smoothness of his crest amazed me, the taste of it, the beat of his life inside the rigidity. It seemed to me I
had
to suck this marvel, even as Damien had done. I bobbed, slowly, imitating my husband’s rhythm.

Some instinct led me to put my hand over Damien’s on Jake’s base. We both held him then, controlled him, his pleasure ours to dictate. Jake didn’t seem to mind. His fingers burrowed in my hair, pins scattering to the bed as he dug them in. His hips thrust closer, our grip on him my safety. I knew he wanted to go farther, and I was happy to torment him. I rubbed my tongue across him, first the flat and then the tip.

He jerked when my flicking found his slit.

I triggered a reaction I didn’t anticipate. Jake gripped my hair without warning and pulled my head from him. Apprehension swelled inside me. Maybe I wasn’t in control after all.

That realization sent tingles of excitement unexpectedly down my spine.

“Did I do that wrong?” I panted.

My breathlessness inflamed him. Without asking Damien or me for permission, Jake jerked me off the bed and into his arms. The searing kiss he laid on my mouth wasn’t at all polite, but I didn’t try to resist it.

Truthfully, I flung myself into it.

He grunted and intensified his assault. His hands were on my bottom, my bare thighs clamped hard around his waist. I ground myself on his belly licentiously.

“You are the hottest thing on legs,” he growled. “I am going to fuck you good.”

His words didn’t even shock me. He thumped my back into a plastered wall, tilted his head, and kissed me until I moaned. His hand moved between us, its urgency erotic. I felt the rounded knob my husband and I had so recently been sucking.

My God
, I thought.
He’s going to take me standing up
.

I welcome that more than I’d thought possible.

He shoved into me without preamble.

“
This
,” he said. “
This
is the cock you need now.”

Was he suggesting I didn’t need Damien’s? I couldn’t think clearly enough to decide. Jake throbbed inside me, thick and hot and—damn it—not moving.

“Do it,” I demanded, caution thrown to the winds. “Fuck me if you mean to.”

“Oh I mean to. The question is, are you ready to walk crooked? I’ll make you feel like you couldn’t stop me even if you wanted to.”

“You
would
stop,” I said. “If I asked.”