Natalie Acres (29 page)

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Authors: Sex Slave [Cowboy Sex 7]

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Natalie Acres
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“Here we go,” Cherie said, nudging him.

Three masked men appeared, slipping away from the curtain and waiting near the back of the car, obviously expecting their submissive to appear within moments. Seconds later, the curtain rotated on a rod, blocking the audience from view.

“Well, that was worth the wait,” Wyatt said, frustrated.

“Tell me about it,” Cherie grumbled.

Wyatt’s cell vibrated in his pocket. He fished the device out of his jacket and read aloud, “Sebastian said you have something for me.”

“Oh I almost forgot.” She dug in her purse and came up with a remote control. “Kimberly told me you might want this.”

Wyatt grinned at the remote, remembering how well Kimberly had responded to the vibrators when the charity’s auctioneer had demonstrated her agility. Her moves had been hypnotic, graceful even, when he’d thrust the vibrator remote forward and clicked through different settings and speeds.

“Don’t just look at it, guy. The poor girl is probably stretched out on the bed, waiting for some action.”

“With Sebastian there, I doubt it.”

“True,” Cherie said. “Which brings me to question why you’re sitting here with me when you have a beautiful woman waiting for you?”

“Trying to figure out who those people are,” he said, pointing at the drawn curtain.

“Who’s to say they aren’t just on a trip like we are?”

“We have a motive for being here,” Wyatt reminded her.

“Maybe they do, too.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Meaning, they’re here for a vacation. Maybe it’s their anniversary or a celebration of some sort. You never know. Not everyone believes there’s a conspiracy surrounding them.”

“You think we’re taking extreme measures to protect Kimberly. Don’t you?”

“I think you’ll eventually push her away if you aren’t careful,” Cherie said. “And I know you will if you don’t give her what she needs.”

“Has she talked to you about her expectations?” Wyatt asked, completely bothered by the possibility. If Kimberly had opened up and discussed her desires with Cherie, then they had somehow already failed her.

“No, she hasn’t.” Cherie put his mind at ease. “But I saw her at the auction, Wyatt. She was beautiful. Someone like Kimberly Cartwell is unusual. She stands out in a crowd. She wants and needs things the average man can’t or won’t give her.”

“I’ll give her what she needs,” Wyatt muttered, jabbing the remote control and picturing her pretty pussy lips parting with the sudden impalement.

His lips twitched as he imagined her bound to the berth, her body gyrating with the sensations rushing through her body. Of course she was probably unbound, no thanks to Sebastian dragging his feet, but at least she’d had the foresight to think ahead and give Cherie the vibrator remote.

Even if she wasn’t wearing the vibrator, he could fantasize, dream. Hope.

Erotic noises resounded and the mysterious curtain lifted. By the time the occupants allowed voyeurs to look on, they were already in the throes of passion.

“Holy hell,” Cherie said, leaning forward.

“I’ll say,” Wyatt said, watching in awe as the woman with flaming red hair accepted cocks in all three main orifices.

One man was under her, fucking her pussy with timed strokes. The other stood behind her, impaling her with quick, short thrusts while keeping her leash tightly drawn. Her mouth opened for the man standing at her side, and his cock disappeared down her throat.

“Ever seen anything like that?” Cherie asked, reaching under her shirt and seemingly unaware of the fact that she’d started to pull at her nipple clamps, a daily accessory Cherie had worn since Wyatt had known her.

The man pounded his cock inside his lover’s mouth, stroking her cheek affectionately. When she turned her head toward his groin, Wyatt narrowed his gaze.

“They’re familiar to me.”

“I don’t know how,” Cherie said, shoving her arm higher. Her face was flushed as she looked on, admiring the sexual acts progressing. “Those masks are practically concealing their entire faces.”

Wyatt honed in on the larger man with shoulder-length hair. He screwed his woman’s tight, shapely ass and issued an order. Soon, an attendant appeared in the dome, handing off lube and a riding crop.

Wyatt longed for this sort of experience with Kimberly. He clicked the remote control, sent her a text message, and directed her to send him pictures. He forwarded the message to Sebastian as well, just in case she was unavailable for a return comment.

He grinned to himself as he thought of Kimberly on her knees, sipping at his cock, rolling her wicked tongue around his crest like this woman was consuming her man’s shape, licking and lapping, greedily feasting on his meat.

“Fuck me, damn you!” she screamed, jerking when the man underneath her slapped her breast.

“That’s too fucking wicked,” Cherie said, withdrawing her hand.

“Painful to think about?”

“Yes,” Cherie replied, shaking her head. “It’s dangerous, too.”

Depending on the strike, Wyatt could see where a hard smack could be harmful to a woman’s health. He stroked his chin and eyed the positioning of the four lovers.

“They have stamina,” Cherie said. “I’ll give them that. Think about it. They’re all so in sync. I mean it’s really beautiful to watch them together.”

Where had he heard that before? He focused on the redhead and watched as she devoured the end of her lover’s dick, pulling him forward with a suction to make any man crave the same. At the same time, a resounding wallop fell upon her ass and she threw her hips back, practically begging for another smack.

The man’s muscular arm propelled high above him, and he swatted her again, pressing down on her back as he whipped her. Her body seemingly undulated more with every strike.

“Fuck me with your lips, baby,” the one receiving head said. “Tighten. Tighten. That’s right. Suck. Here you go, sweetheart. Ah yeah!”

His body jerked violently as the woman consumed his cock and swallowed rapidly, her reflexes obviously toned and perfected, skilled and trained. As she finished one, the other two shared her body in a seesaw fashion.

“Come!” someone shouted. “Now, Vicky! Now, my sweet sub!”

“Ah fuck,” Wyatt grumbled, grabbing Cherie’s hand. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Why?” she asked. “Damn it. I’ll miss the best part.”

About that time, a text message arrived. Wyatt stared down at one beautiful image—Kimberly in a fetal position with her arms bound around her knees. He caught a glimpse of a light blue vibrator and his lips twitched.

“You go on,” she said, pushing away from him. “I want to see the rest of this.”

“Cherie, those people are Kimberly’s godparents!” Wyatt hissed. “This isn’t right.”

“Maybe not for you,” she said. “But I won’t be around them. They won’t be at my family dinners.” She laughed. “Besides, I’ve never seen anything sexier. This is what makes our community of friends special, Wyatt. The BDSM community is often muddied because of folks like Jason Neely and Vince Littleton. These people make our lifestyle unique.”

He couldn’t agree more.

“So much loving,” she whispered, her eyes heavy with longing. “So much intensity and fire.”

“I’ve gotta get out of here before they see me,” Wyatt said, cursing himself for not putting two and two together. He should’ve recognized Vicky. He should’ve realized that rogue of a man with tangled hair all over his head was Joshua McKay.

“You’re acting like you aren’t supposed to see them. Think about that for a minute. Why would they care who watched them? They’re obviously enjoying one another and they clearly don’t have stage fright.”

“There you go, sub! Come on, baby, fuck me with that tight pussy. Give it to me. Ah yeah. Make me hurt. Make me want. You damn well know what to do!”

Clearly
. No stage fright there.

“Wait for permission, sub.” A hard slap fell upon Vicky’s ass. “Wait, siren.”

Wyatt froze as the sounds of sex beckoned him to look once more. Now, he could easily place and identify each man. Patrick discarded a condom. In an easy gait, he walked to a lounger and collapsed against the cushions, working his hand over his cock as if he wanted everyone to pay close attention to his sizeable erection.

“He has to be on pills,” Cherie said. “No one can fuck like that and still have a damn hard-on.”

According to some, Patrick was nothing more but a living, breathing sex instrument. All he cared about was Vicky. Rumors suggested they fucked several times a day. And Patrick himself had even mentioned something about exercises they practiced as some sort of daily regimen. He boasted about keeping her twat and ass conditioned for day-long sex marathons.

Watching her was like observing a sex sensation. She clearly adored her three men.

“Do you feel guilty?” Cherie asked.

“Why should I?”

“I don’t know, maybe because Kimberly is ‘the one’ for you. I’m curious how that works. When I find the right one, I still want to watch others. Ya know?”

“Kimberly likes watching. She likes performing. I enjoy the same.”

“For sure,” Cherie muttered. Her keen focus had returned to the McKays.

Wyatt had a perpetual erection as the eroticism of the entire area seemed to swallow him whole. “I’m off to find my woman. If you want to see how good loving looks, come on back to our rail car soon. We’ll be showing off in a bit.”

Cherie laughed. “You won’t show these guys up.”

“How much you wanna bet?”

Chapter Thirty-Six

 

“I have a complaint,” Kimberly said as soon as Sebastian entered the private master suite.

“I’m sure you do.” Sebastian worked his natural swagger for all it was worth.

She stretched her fingers against the glass above her head. “I’m serious.”

“Don’t whine, sub.” Sebastian swatted her bare mound with a flogger.

Incredible shards of exquisite pleasure shot through her cunt and left her pussy clenching around the dildo. At the same time, the vibrator danced with quick jolts. As the rotation began, the intimate swirling made her brace for the orgasm rolling over her.

“Let me come,” she whispered, realizing their relationship had swiftly changed.

“Tell me why you want to come,” Sebastian said, his voice dark.

“I need to come!” she screamed, her palms mashed against the glass. She was desperate for release and he wanted her to analyze why? Why the hell did he think? She was horny, excited, and needed to ride out that orgasm, latch on and let go!

Sebastian moved closer. He stared at her cunt. A sexy smile shaped his full lips. “Wyatt is having too much fun with that remote control.”

Kimberly arched. Her nipples throbbed for his hand, his lips. She moistened her mouth and stared at the bulge between his thighs, willing him to come closer.

The orgasm was within her grasp and he still wouldn’t grant her permission. Then, right when the vibrator sped into action, jerking inside her with violent tremors, he yanked the toy away from her vagina, flipped the switch to the off position, and tossed it to the nearby vanity.

She collapsed against the lumpy pillow behind her, frustrated beyond words.

“What’s wrong, sub?” Sebastian asked, laughter in his voice. “Are you pouting?”

Kimberly lifted her head. “Don’t patronize me.”

A glint of humor danced in his face. “How am I patronizing you?”

God, he was sexy. That guttural sound in his voice, the way he looked at her when he clearly appreciated her, and the way he flexed his muscles as if he didn’t even know he was built like a god made her want to squeeze the daylights out of him—with the appropriate body part utilized for the squeezing.

“Come here,” she crooned. “I want to see you.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I need to touch you.”

“Hmm,” he rasped, dropping his slacks and fisting his hard cock.

“Hmm is right,” she whispered, licking at her lips. “Let me taste you.”

“Not yet,” he said, pumping his cock.

“When?”

“Don’t whine, sub,” he said, slapping her pussy.

Relief spun through her veins. Her lust was like a beast, one that could be provoked or tamed by conflicting elements at any given time.

“You love to be spanked.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. “Spank my pussy.”

“Suck my cock.” He dropped one knee on the bed and thrust his dick forward, inches from her mouth.

“Untie me,” she whispered against the head of his cock.

“You don’t need to use your hands,” he told her, supporting her head.

Her tongue whipped around the crest and she pampered him with an exceptional oral delivery. With a deliberate, nearly exaggerated suction, she drew him between her lips and hummed against his thick shaft.

His rich masculine scent filled her senses with a hint of musk and leatherwood. She breathed him, inhaled every scent of his masculinity, his spicy sex.

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