by Joey W. Hill
Page 64
Tonight the Scot was in full accord with the vampire. With a deep, guttural sound, Niall came, the headboard rocking ominously. They might have to compensate Tyler and Marguerite for damage to the furniture after all. Both men had found release quickly, telling her their need had built the way hers had, until it was pushing inexorably against whatever control they had. She loved the thought, as well as the idea they might do it again and again tonight, their need stoked that high.
Her throat worked, taking down the jet of Niall’s semen. It filled her mouth, forcing her to seal her lips firmly over him, holding it all in as she managed it in several swallows. She kept sucking on him, tongue sliding over the sensitive underside, pulling hard on the ridged head as he became progressively more sensitive. When he grasped her hair in a quelling motion, he let out a half chuckle, half curse as she nipped at him.
“Payback’ll be hell, lass. I can eat your cunt all day while ye wiggle and scream and plead for me to stop. ”
She wouldn’t ever want him to stop, no matter how oversensitized the area became. Just the idea of his mouth on her pussy had her shuddering anew. It must have stimulated Evan as well, for as she predicted, he made the decision to start all over again, working himself deeper and harder in Niall’s ass, winning strained grunts from the big male as the vampire reached back with those long, clever fingers to tease her clit to that high pinnacle again as well.
She’d never felt so . . . purposed. A true servant at last.
The full-sized bed might be too small for two sizeable men and one woman on a normal night, but not when they were tangled together like vines. They’d fallen asleep for a short nap, her coiled in between them. When Niall roused later, she would have gone with him, but Evan cinched her closer, and Niall put a kiss on her shoulder. “Sleep with our Master, muirnín,” he said. “You’ll need your strength tonight. I’ll take care of the things that need doing. ”
Evan kept her in the curve of his body, one hand on her waist, the other resting on her throat, fingers along her pulse, elbow in between her breasts. It was an effective and sensual body lock that made her aware of every inch of her skin pressed to his, for not only had they stripped her fully following their thorough lovemaking, Evan had shed his clothes as well. She enjoyed the rare pleasure of their completely bare, hard bodies pressed against her.
They’d left her tied and blindfolded for a while, forbidding her to speak. They’d spoken to each other, though, casual conversations as they took their fill of fondling her body. It had aroused her to an excruciating level again, and she knew that was what Evan wanted. It was what a vampire enjoyed most, that sadistic infliction of pleasure, and the fact that Evan was unleashing it with her as well as Niall kept her in a lust-filled euphoria.
Now, still dozing, Evan pressed his erection against her. When she parted her thighs, he pushed inside, making her draw in a deep, shuddering, peaceful breath as he stopped there, simply staying inside her as he slept on. Wherever his dreams were taking him, he wanted to be buried in her cunt, joined to her.
Most vampires she knew would react to the idea of postcoital cuddling like having windows thrown open over their beds in broad daylight. But Evan and Niall . . . they’d done it several times, now. Well, Niall had. Usually Evan had to leave them to it, because they were above ground and the sun came up. But now she was in the arms of a vampire who obviously intended for her to stay in his company until it was time to rise for the evening festivities, where she would be presented as his devoted slave.
If she was to make a list of the most wonderful experiences she’d ever had in her life, she had a feeling all top ten would be counted among these few weeks. Closing her eyes, she slept.
In their skill for presentation, Tyler and Marguerite could compete with vampires. It being another nice night, they’d turned the elaborate back gardens into a dungeon play area. Expensive pieces of BDSM equipment were integrated into the landscaping as if they’d always been there. Staff from the club where Tyler shared part ownership moved around with hors d’oeuvres and drinks, taking requests for particular toys or accessories, if they weren’t readily at hand.
Beside a fountain pool graced with a center statue of Aphrodite, Alanna saw a male submissive kneeling. He was pressed down over the fountain wall, his hands flat on the pool’s bottom, arms immersed to the biceps in the water. Koi slowly swam around them, nibbling, as his Mistress worked herself inside his flexing ass with a sizeable strap-on. At her order, he would periodically lower his face in the water, keep it there for a few seconds as she fucked him, until she put her fingers on the head harness he wore to draw him back up, gasping.
Niall, strolling along arm-and-arm with her, discreetly pointed out staff members in black shirts whose job it was to watch over the play, make sure nothing got out of hand, since there were obviously a lot of edge players in the ranks. As such, one was carefully monitoring the sub when he was underwater, but she noted the Mistress was just as alert to any signs of distress or choking.
“’Tis pretty tame, compared tae a vampire gathering, but for humans, this is as extreme as it gets, within the boundaries of mortal frailty and common sense, of course. Speaking of which . . . ” He passed a hand over her backside, giving her a fond squeeze. “Any soreness left? You wouldnae know it to look at the skinny runt, but Evan can get . . . enthusiastic. ”
She’d found one thing she liked about the blocker. The marks inflicted by her Master lingered, allowing her to touch them, see them. With the outfit Evan had ordered her to wear, they were also on display to everyone who passed. And she was overjoyed by it.
The upper garment was an arrangement of black velvet-coated straps that passed under and over her breasts, constricting them in a mild breast bondage to make them even more full and eye catching. The buckled strap beneath had an edging of silver chains tipped with tiny stars that pricked her skin as she moved. The bottom was a thong accentuated by thigh-high latex stockings, as well as teetering stilettos that arched her back and put her buttocks on high display, along with the marks of her punishment. Slim chains encircled her ankles and passed underneath the soles of the shoes, locking there.
Evan had sat in a chair, watching Niall dress her, his gaze passing over the curve of the Scot’s back as he knelt to lock the shoes onto her feet. For this event Niall wore only a utility kilt and Goth-style heavy boots with a series of buckles. She loved the look on him, had wanted to trail her fingers up his bare back, press her mouth to the dragon on his chest when he rose, but since Evan had told her to keep her fingers locked behind her head until he was done outfitting her the way he desired, she’d obeyed her Master. Tonight, she wanted nothing more than to serve his every desire, no matter if it left her in a mindless frenzy, caught up in her own arousal.
She loved the idea of wearing something that pleased them both, going as their servant, ready to perform for their pleasure. Stephen had rated her performance in terms of political advantage, but with Evan and Niall, she would be acting purely on their desires, their interests, and that gave her a swirl of anxious anticipation that was new and exciting.
Evan had left the last piece of the outfit for himself. When her Master rose from the chair, Niall stepping aside, her breath had caught, seeing that Evan was holding a collar. His eyes on her reaction, he put the wide strap around her throat. It fastened in the back, secured with a padlock. When he showed her the key, brushed his knuckles along her cheek, she pressed her lips fervently to the fingers that held it.
“If I had time, I would have had a tag made for it,” he’d said, his gray eyes caressing her face. “So they would know who your Master is. ”
She’d closed her eyes as he tightened the collar, one step beyond restricting her breathing, just how she wanted it. Actually, she would have been fine with him stealing her breath away entirely. She knew who her Master was. It was stamped on her every reaction. The intensity of his expression had told her he
heard her thought.
Niall brought her back to the present. “The rosy color of your nipples is driving everyone to distraction. If ye had a third mark, he’d have told me to pierce them tonight, put a pretty silver bar through each one. ”
“We can still—”
“No. ” Niall gave her that steady, brook-no-argument look that, unlike his teasing, could stop her words in a heartbeat. “He kens ye can bear the pain, but they wouldnae heal right away. He wants your breasts accessible to him. And so do I. ” As they walked, he brought a hand up along her side to boldly cup one, heedless of the passersby. She made a needy sound as he caressed and squeezed it. “You’ll tell me if the straps get too restrictive, lass. We’re goin’ to loosen them in the half hour regardless. ”
She could bear any discomfort for their pleasure, but Niall had made a good point. Without the regenerative power of a third mark, too much pain or discomfort would impair her ability to serve them. Of course, the healing of a nipple piercing, the loss of circulation to her breasts, were only problems if her agony was an issue to the vampire. But it was to this particular vampire and his servant, far more than it would have been to Stephen. Which perversely made her want to have Niall do it, prove she’d endure any pain for Evan.
Niall’s fingers tightened on hers. “Behave,” he murmured. “Submitting to your Master means submitting to his will in all things. Ye didnae get to pick and choose. Ye know that, lass. ”
So Evan was close, and sharing her thoughts with Niall. It was a direct reproof. A few days ago, any rebuke had diminished her, emphasizing her failure and inadequacy. Now she absorbed it into this new fragile sense of herself, a servant eager to serve a Master who cared enough to protect her.
Him and his servant. Niall might appreciate her appearance, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. The hard muscles of his bare upper body shifted against her side and back where he walked close beside her. The way he moved in the dark utility kilt, his sheer size and presence, was mesmerizing, and not just to her. The other women might speculate, but she knew there was nothing under the kilt. She wanted to go to her knees in her provocative outfit, push the fabric up his strong thighs and put her mouth on him. Lubricate his cock from the arousal between her thighs and then rub him between her tender breasts until he came . . .