Nightfall (28 page)

The way Butch was watching them made it clear this wasn’t
like a football game. Two tough cowboys pitting strength against one another at
his command got him off. Quinn distracted himself from that disturbing thought
by looking toward his Mistress. When she moistened her lips, her gaze sliding
over him as if she could already see his muscles straining and tight, his cock
hardened, making it clear he wasn’t entirely detached from all the sexual
innuendo saturating the air.

Now the reason for the shorts was clear. It was like a
gladiator contest, and the audience wanted to see as much of the contestants as
possible. Quinn guessed he should be glad they weren’t naked, with all sorts of
vulnerable parts hanging out. Then he didn’t have a lot of time to consider
anything, because Dix lunged.

Butch had maybe given him a tip, calling to mind all the
reflexes and strength it took to handle stock and rodeo animals. The vampire
version of a friendly wrestling match was up there with wresting a bull in
truth. Dix gave him about half a second to pick up on the tone and intent, and
then he started pushing Quinn’s skills hard.

From his tussle with Dix earlier, Quinn knew the other man
was holding back some to make the contest more about skill than brute force.
Quinn had plenty of the former and embraced the advantage. As they circled,
grappled, rolled and broke apart multiple times, Quinn found himself actually
getting into the spirit of the competition, trading insults and grunts of
effort. They both started building up a sweat, so as they braced weight against
each other, tried head locks, different holds and all sorts of efforts to bring
one another down, they were handling slick muscle even harder to pin. They
traded pins a couple of times, but both managed to wriggle loose. Dix was a
damn sinewy bastard for sure, but Quinn was good at getting himself out of
tight spots despite his larger size.

Still, time told the real story, and he tired before the other
guy, goddamn it. But somewhere along the way, he rebelled against the idea of
being trapped against his will, restrained, and the fighting became dirtier,
more desperate. That was when Dix’s elbow slammed into his mouth, and Quinn
punched him in the face, and it became a brawl, with them bouncing off the
walls, floor and the low brick border around the patio. A screen tore out of
the frame, and then Quinn found himself on his back in the grass, Dix on top,
and that rope in his hands.

He bucked, snarled, raged, but in the end he was planted on
his belly, rock-hard cock jammed beneath him, his arms pulled back behind him,
knees bent so Dix could tie his wrists to his ankles. Quinn cursed him,
struggled, but then Dix gave him a slap on the ass and backed off. Quinn’s only
satisfaction was seeing that Dix was breathing heavy as he was.

“You’re a strong son of a bitch,” Dix offered. “Good
fighter.”

“You made your point,” Quinn gritted. “Untie me.”

“Not my call.” Dix’s gaze settled on him, his expression
spawning a wealth of apprehension in Quinn’s belly.

No. No way in hell. His gaze snapped to Selene, and he found
her and Butch in chairs they’d pulled over to the opening to the patio, a
closer front-row seat to the action.

Selene had that wooden, neutral expression. While he was
sure—almost—that she wasn’t thrilled to see him in this position with Butch
present, it wasn’t a position she wouldn’t enjoy seeing him in herself, if it
was the two of them alone. Hell he might even enjoy it then. But not this. This
wasn’t the way he was.

He set his teeth, bit his lip perversely to keep him from
speaking in his head, pleading with her. If she had anything to say, she’d say
it. But her eyes never left him and he held that gaze, his jaw set. Fine. He
wouldn’t say a damn thing.

He’d think of that butterfly in his hand, trusting him. The
blue and yellow delicate colors, so easily crushed, but so strong despite its
fragility. Able to endure, hold on through everything…

She rose then. He was braced to feel ashamed as she came
closer, that he’d lost, that he was bound like this by someone else in front of
her, but then he registered her reaction. Her gaze was skimming over him with
pure hunger, lingering on his muscles straining against his bonds. His cock,
mashed as it was beneath him, got even thicker, responding to her. When she
trailed her fingers over his rigid biceps, down to caress his ass, stroke his
calves in their restrained position, he quivered. Catching the hem of the slick
shorts, she pulled them away from his ass, exposing the curves as she traced
them with sharp nails. Her other hand coiled in his hair, and she tightened her
grip on his ass so she could slide a finger into the opening she’d told him to
lube up.

He bucked, gasping as she worked him.
Fuck. Mistress…

Anything I want, Quinn. Anything that gives me pleasure.
Say it.

Anything that gives you pleasure.

Say it aloud.

“Anything that gives you pleasure. God…no…” She was going to
make him come, his body way more revved up by her watching their wrestling
match than he’d expected.

No. Your orgasm is Butch’s call. But only for the moment.

She rose then, standing over him, and he was staring at her
feet in those killer stilettos.

“In a few more years, my servant will kick Dix’s ass, my
lord.”

Butch chuckled. “We’ll see in a few years, won’t we?”

He moved next to her, and Quinn knew he was staring down at
him, could almost feel the heat of the man’s gaze on his bare butt. “Go sit
down, Selene.”

A direct order. Quinn glanced up to see her jaw flex, but
she gave a short nod, returned to her chair. Butch’s attention was moving over
Quinn like he was considering his second meal of the night.

“It’s hard, sharing them the first time. On a normal night,
I’d go for the straight hard fuck between him and Dix, have Dix take him right
here, a prize for getting him hogtied. Nothing as scintillating as watching two
men go at it the way they can, all rough and tumble. I’m not so much for the
vampire games, all the setup some of the born ones do, like a fucking royal
court performance.”

His lip curled, showing his disdain for that, but then he
dropped to his heels and cupped Quinn’s buttock, finger sliding to the seam,
through the oil. “But he’s a fine piece. I’m thinking I might take the pleasure
for myself, then give Dix the leftovers.”

No. Hell no, not happening.
But he didn’t have any
choice, did he? Still, when Butch shifted, pressing a knee into his shoulder,
Quinn didn’t think. He just bucked and used every ounce of strength to shove
away from the vampire, managing to wrench his shoulder and pull one ankle
binding tight enough he could immediately feel the dangerous constriction
around the veins. He snarled at Butch like a wild animal and found his throat
seized by the vampire, Dix sitting on him somewhere behind, holding him down.

Panic and rage warred together. He’d kill himself and them
before he’d let them take choices away from him. Goddamn…the haze of red took
everything over and he was bellowing like a bull in truth, wrestling as much as
he could, no matter the constriction over wrists, ankles, throat. He might be a
third mark, but he was going to render himself unconscious.

No, Selene. Can’t do this…Selene…

It was too late to have the thought, lost as it was amid a
fierce struggle to resist their efforts to do things to him he couldn’t permit,
wouldn’t permit. No way in hell.

Then suddenly they were off him, standing back, and he was
wheezing, everything hurting and throbbing where the rope was cutting off
circulation and his breathing.

A knife sliced through the ropes, Dix pulling them free. As
soon as Quinn could orient himself, he shoved him away, did it himself. Pulling
the shorts back in place, he stumbled to his feet and braced himself for
battle, fists clenched, eyes wild.

It took him a few blinks to realize no one was close enough
to fight. With his head still whirling, he registered Butch leaning against the
patio wall, testing his thumb against the wicked-looking knife he’d used to cut
the bonds. Selene sat straight and still in the chair, her gaze not on Quinn at
all, but on the distant horizon as if she wished she was somewhere else
entirely. It was that which brought Quinn back to himself, made his heart drop.

Fuck, he’d failed. Hadn’t he? Proven he couldn’t do it. Yet
as he tried to imagine a hundred ways to make it better, he couldn’t bring
himself to think of doing that. She was right. Butch was right. He’d made the
wrong choice. Yet he wanted to go to his knees, beg her forgiveness. He
couldn’t be without her, yet he couldn’t…do that.

“It’s a learning process. Fortunately, maybe, you’re in a
position to give him that. In forty, fifty years he’ll find the peace with it
that Dix did, but he definitely doesn’t have it now.”

Butch had angled himself to speak directly to Selene, as if
Quinn wasn’t even there. He didn’t seem the least bit perturbed, a small boon
all in all. Quinn struggled to get his mind around that, the indicator that
maybe he hadn’t screwed up as bad as he’d thought. At least overall. He wished
Selene would look at him or say something.

“You’re right,” Butch told her. “If the Region Masters rule
against you, it’s best for his sake that he stays here. I’ll do as you ask. As
long as he agrees to the discretion that will keep him alive.”

His gaze returned to Quinn, though Butch continued to
address his Mistress. “If the ruling is in your favor, it’s a good thing this
is where you want to stay for some time. Your servant will need the time to
wrap his head around his role. Before someone strikes it from his shoulders.”

“Perhaps it’s just the approach that needs the work, not the
servant.”

Quinn lifted his head to see Selene’s eyes on him. Butch
lifted a brow, though he looked amused, not offended. “Do tell.”

“You break a horse gradually, introducing the saddle and bit
as part of a more rewarding activity. Correct?”

“More or less.”

She nodded. “If you will permit me, I think I can offer you
a display you’ll enjoy, while proving my servant has the wherewithal to manage
this. As you said, it’s a learning process, and why shouldn’t we enjoy the
pleasures of watching him learn?”

“Indeed.” Butch made a courteous gesture, took a seat again.
“What did you have in mind?”

“I will order my servant to make me come with his mouth
while your servant brings him to climax with his.”

Butch’s eyes got a speculative light. “Works for me. I
choose the position and restraints.”

When she inclined her head, Butch turned to his servant.
“Dix, if you’ll adjust his position accordingly?”

As Dix approached, Quinn braced himself. Selene held up a
hand, bringing Dix to a halt. She rose, moving back toward Quinn.

I’m sorry, Mistress
.

Nothing to be sorry for, cowboy. Not a thing.
When
she reached him, she put her hand on his face, looked up into his eyes. That
petite, lovely thing who inspired such protective feelings from him had tapped
into a part of himself that had brought him the most personal and sexual
fulfillment in a long time. When he looked into her eyes, despite their
surroundings, he felt all those things, as well as more shame. She was right
here, standing before him, and he’d failed her.

Did I tell you that you failed me, Quinn?
She arched
a brow, and any vulnerability he’d sensed earlier was gone, replaced by pure,
cool Mistress. “Answer me.”

“No.”

Then you didn’t.
“I’m hot and wet, watching you two
big strong men wrestle, and now I’m going to command you down on your back so I
can straddle your face and order you to service my pussy. Butch is commanding
Dix down onto his knees to take your cock in his mouth, to do his best to make
you come before I do. But I know my servant values my pleasure more than his
own. Doesn’t he?”

He held her gaze. Nodded.
I’m not sure I can let him…do
that.

That’s why he’s going to tie your arms and legs, so your
only focus, your only choice, is to give me pleasure, Quinn. Now kneel.

Her hands slid up his chest, up to his shoulders, and began
to exert pressure. He tried to block Dix out of his line of sight and, as he
sank before her, it was possible. When he was kneeling, staring up at her, at
the rise of her breasts, the pursing of her lips, the vibrant blue of her eyes,
he could get lost in all those things, in all that she was to him. He barely
registered her easing him down to the ground, directing him to his back.

Curling her small hands around his wrists, she eased his
arms up and over his head, caressing his throat, his mouth, chest and nipples
as his wrists were bound. Dix tied them to one of the three poles embedded into
the patio concrete, poles whose purpose Quinn had wondered about and cursed the
couple times he’d slammed into them during their match. Selene straddled his
abdomen so he couldn’t see Dix anymore, though he felt his hands spreading his
legs, the ropes tightening around his ankles. Then she started moving forward,
gathering up the edges of her short skirt so the garters were fully revealed,
and he scented her aroused pussy under the lacy scrap of panties. God, she was beautiful.
He was aware of Dix’s hands on his shorts, taking them down, and he tensed, but
then his Mistress was straddling his shoulders.

“You have one choice, Quinn.” She stared down at him, one
simple knee bend away from straddling his face, bringing that delectable pussy
to his mouth. “What is that choice?”

“To give my Mistress pleasure.” His voice was hoarse.

She didn’t remove her panties, simply sank down on his face,
bringing her pussy up close and personal, but holding it just a lick away. She
kept it there as he felt Dix’s hands close on his thighs. He bucked a bit, but
then Dix’s mouth closed over his cock, which didn’t give a damn that it was a
male mouth on it, though feeling the scratch of his evening shadow against his
pelvis was disconcerting. Quinn was just glad he didn’t have to see the guy
doing it. Selene stayed that tantalizing distance away, her blue eyes focused
on his face like a raptor’s.