Unmeasured (Unmatched Book 1)

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Unmeasured (Unmatched Book 1) Page 27

by Alyssa Turner


  After painfully few passes that she couldn’t believe she wanted, he stood up. “I want her ass,” he said simply.

  Oleg knelt in front of her, stroking his regenerating erection. “Have you been fucked in the ass, Kitten?”

  She shook her head, certain that would be an expired response soon enough.

  The jangle of metal drew her attention toward Henri. He inspected the chains and cuffs he’d retrieved.

  Oleg took hold of her leash as it lay like a waiting serpent on the floor. She rose up on hands and knees as he stood with it in his grip. He addressed Paolo as they began to walk. “The first stroke is mine, brother.”

  “With respect,” he said. “I’ll take the second one.”

  Her heart took a sudden leap into her throat. This was pure and utter…hotness. Her mouth was wet for words to describe how turned on she was by all of it. But in this dark underworld, there was no need for her words to form complete sentences. There was only her willingness and her limits. She’d yet to meet her limits, and so all that was left was how much she wanted what they wanted to give. She was an anxious pet ready for the playtime her Master promised, ready to perform any trick he desired. She was a kitten with the heart of a lion.

  They took her to the back of the room where blue spotlights had been traded for moody wall sconces to deliver softer levels of illumination. A long counter with bottles and creams lined up in orderly fashion also housed a small sink. Beyond it, a shiny white vinyl-clad poster bed was as large as two king-size beds, obviously custom, most certainly sturdy. Samantha spied the hardware lining the posts, headboard and footboard. Bolted rings and ratcheting clamps spelled out the capabilities of the monolithic piece of furniture. It was meant for twisted things that sent her mind racing and her soul flying. Trapeze had never seemed so dull.

  Oleg stopped at the side of the bed. “Climb up, Kitten. Let me see how tight you are.”

  She put herself on all fours near the edge of the bed. Oleg pushed two lubricated fingers into her virginal hole. “You are little here,” he said and stroked her back.

  Ivan appeared from the shadows with a flat rectangular box in his hands resembling one that housed her mother’s silver cake set. He set it on the bed next to her where she could see it and lifted the lid. Inside, four heart-shaped silver plugs in ascending sizes were nestled securely in their protective foam settings. Samantha smiled at him and reached for his hand before he pulled away.

  “Why aren’t you a part of this, Ivan?” She couldn’t stand the idea that he didn’t want to be included. That desperate hunger for attention was shameful, she knew it, just as she’d always known it, and his indifference was like fresh salt in a long-festering wound. She already coveted their attention too much. She’d already become a fiend for it. His rejection was only a stingy slap of cold water making that fact clear as could be. If her Master wanted to share her, then what had made Ivan immune to the desire she’d felt crawl over her skin like a serpent ready to strike the moment he laid eyes on her?

  “I can’t,” he said but ventured the most ghostly of touches with his fingertips circling the round rise of her ass.

  “Why?” she pressed.

  “Quiet, Kitten,” Oleg warned and retracted his two digits. “You don’t make demands here.”

  Samantha already knew that wasn’t entirely true. Her fingers crept like five stealthy assassins over the satin sheet until they linked with Ivan’s. Her eyes were full of the same question she’d asked twice before.

  “You are the sweetest poison, Samantha,” he said with a hard swallow. “I need to build up my defenses before you kill us both.”

  He pulled his fingers away then and took two distinct steps backward. She watched over her shoulder as he retreated and picked up a green jewel candy from the tray placed on the counter. He balanced it on his hand and then worked it over and through his fingers with mindless ease and a rhythm set to calm. His mouth lifted in the corner. “I’ll enjoy watching though,” he said and winked at her.

  She smiled back at him, resolving she would have to be satisfied with that.

  A flash of metal caught her attention as Oleg removed the second-to-largest plug from the box. When he’d seated it in place, Henri took her leash and pulled her to the middle of the huge bed until his cock bounced in her face. She didn’t open for him right away. She was starting to understand this game well, and all the players too. She waited for him to drag his thumb down her cheek and over her lips and then, with the barest of force, over her teeth and onto her tongue. Her mouth remained lax, his thumb became heavy, and he pressed harder, opening her to his will and inserting the full length of his shaft to the back of her throat. He remained there, stuffing her with a threat to suffocate only to withdraw just as her eyes began to tear. He smiled, proud of himself or proud of her, she wasn’t certain.

  Behind her, the plug weighed heavily with the foreign sensation she’d experienced only once before on his dining room table. Then familiar satiny warmth filled her cunt. She knew it was Oleg by the way he moved inside of her in firm, possessive presses that were neither desperate nor hurried. He fucked her with the certainty of ownership. Beneath her, Paolo slid his body into place so that he could work her clit with his mouth while he rubbed and squeezed her hardened nipples in a blur of pleasure and pain. When she came in a sudden rush, the moan was trapped behind Henri’s throbbing cock.

  Oleg removed the plug and murmured his approval. “You’ve opened up like a flower,” he said. In a singular move, he sat on the bed and rolled her onto his lap with her back pressed against his chest. He leaned backward, pulling her with him and raising her legs up high. With a shift of his hips, his cockhead found the gaping hole where a tender pucker had been ten minutes before. He stretched it wider with each press inward, but patience was their friend.

  “Good girl,” he whispered. It had been meant for only her ears, and the notion that he wanted that second of praise only for himself in the midst of sharing her every secret sent a wave of bubbling glee through her. She floated into the air on that sensation and dedicated every molecule in her body to him in that moment. She was his. His to share, his to keep, his to love if he so pleased.

  Love. Was that the source of the fizz in her chest turning her insides to vapor? Samantha hadn’t ever been in love, and so how could she be certain that’s what this was?

  She knew lust. Henri knelt in front of them and rubbed her clit in tight circles while he aligned his purple bulb with her pussy.

  She knew desire. Paolo’s beautiful face stared down at her as his mess of waves spilled past his striking cheekbones. He painted her parted lips with the bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip of his cock before sliding it over her tongue.

  She knew want. Samantha caught Ivan’s gaze just as Paolo pulled back out for another pass and they shared a moment of regret for his absence.

  But love. Every inch of her being felt it engulfing her, and she had to know if she was alone in this phenomenon.

  Oleg pressed deeper, an ephemeral grunt escaping from his pressed lips. His strong arms coiled tightly around her, and he took the rest that she had to give. He held her so close against his chest, the hug irrevocable, permanent and sure. “I’ll never want to let you go,” he whispered, then he spoke to Paolo. “Tie her up.”

  “Wait!” She pulled away from Paolo and held her hand against Henri’s hip, stilling the moment just long enough to dare a single question, shifting just far enough to look Oleg in the face. “Tell me how you know that.”

  He regarded her cautiously. The same flash of worry darkened his hazel eyes as it had that morning after they’d cozied up in the most domestic of snuggles. The room fell silent with all eyes on Oleg. He only looked at her. “I’m falling in love with you, little lion.”

  “I’ll never want to leave because I’m falling too.” Promises were made that neither of them could be certain would endure absolutes, like always and never. But promises didn’t need certainty. They only needed
faith and honesty. She had faith in the way Oleg let her be honest about who she was. She had faith in the honesty he’d shown her about his feelings, and she had faith that her dark fairytale would have a happy ending.

  Henri pulled away from them both, his voice tangled with a resigned sigh. “This is the part where we give you two your space.” He twirled a finger into the air, signaling to the others.

  No. That wasn’t what she wanted, but how did she ask them to stay?

  Oleg whispered in her ear. “Where’s your roar, Lionceau?”

  He had faith in her too.

  Samantha sat up, cocking her chin. “No. Don’t you three dare go anywhere,” she said.

  Henri spun to face her, a shocked expression painting his sharp features.

  Paolo grinned down at her with new heat in his eyes. “Rawr,” he said.

  Samantha raised an eyebrow and then raised her hands high above her head, wrists crossed one over the other.

  *

  Oleg watched as Paolo shifted his gaze to him. “Love is a heavy word.”

  “A word I’ve only ever used with my brothers for a reason,” Oleg replied.

  Paolo nodded. Oleg recognized the understanding in his eyes. They only ever trusted each other. Now he trusted them to give her everything that he’d promised.

  Henri stalked over to them. “She’s so fucking out of line,” he growled.

  “And you want to try to fuck her into submission, yes?”

  Needful rage, the very worst kind, radiated off Henri. “Fuck, yes.”

  “I would so fucking like to see you try,” Oleg said. “Tie her up, Paolo.”

  “Let me do it,” Ivan said. He stepped forward. “I’ll hold her still myself.”

  Samantha bit her lip and inhaled with a sharp squeak. His lioness liked that, and so did he. “Don’t let her get away from you, Ivan.”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  Oleg leveled Samantha back against him by wrapping her chin in his grasp. He spoke only to her. “Don’t forget your safeword.”

  She purred back at him. “What safeword?”

  He could only growl his approval through one last kiss before he slid out from under her. “I remember promising you this ass, Paolo.”

  “A few strokes late, but I’ll take it.” Paolo slapped her hip, and she rolled onto all fours for a fresh dollop of lube.

  “Ingrate,” Oleg joked.

  Paolo shrugged. “I’ll be sure to make up for lost time.”

  He watched Samantha keenly, looking for signs of uncertainty. He only saw the easy smile that passed her lips with their familial quips. She fit in with them like the complicated jigsaw puzzle piece that she was. Only one woman was right to slot in between all of them. Yet she loved him, and his love for her justified his title as her Master. The scales balanced in his favor for that one not-so-simple reason. He watched Henri approach with the thick vein in his forehead signaling how invested he was in the mission at hand. He watched Paolo run reverent, adoring hands over her shoulders and breasts as he took position behind her. He drank in the look of strangled control on Ivan’s face.

  They entered her in quick succession—Paolo high behind her, straddling her newly breached ass, and Henri leaning back with his hips thrust forward, entering her glistening cunt from his standing position at the edge of the bed. As Oleg watched her bite her lip, he wondered how long he’d be the only one to love her. Oddly, he had faith that what she lacked in the ability to fear danger, she overflowed with the ability to be loved.

  Henri pushed his cock balls deep into the depths of her cunt, pumping her as he held steady to the bedpost. From his position under Samantha, Oleg positioned his cock next to Henri’s and locked her gaze with his as he pushed inside her now impossibly tight pussy. Everyone took a steadying breath. Henri was the first to start to pump his hips again. Oleg dug his fingers into her waist, holding her up as he whipped into her in what felt like a competition to her finish line. When Paolo found a slower rhythm in her ass, her eyes rolled back in her head, and her mouth opened wide.

  “Suck me,” Ivan grunted on a chopped breath. He held her wrists high in one hand and ripped at his zipper with the other.

  She needn’t be asked twice. She took him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. All three of them found a reason to go harder, deeper, more feral than before. She sucked and squeaked behind Ivan’s cock. Her hands were fisted above her, her breasts bouncing with the bump and grind of every carnal movement.

  The heavy grunts from Paolo foretold his imminent release. Henri panted like a tiger as his passes inside her took on lightning speed. The sensation of her evacuated all thoughts but the need to fill her with seed. No one would last much longer, including him.

  “Come, pet!” Oleg barked. “Let go of it!”

  She came on command, like a good pet does. Her orgasm triggered a chain reaction, with Paolo quaking, and then Henri pulling out and hurrying to her side where he could paint her face with milky white stripes. Oleg came, roaring like a bear, his hands squeezing lasting imprints into her legs. She shuddered with him, tearing away from Ivan to watch him come undone.

  “You came twice, Lionceau,” he said when he caught his breath. “Who gave you permission for the second one?”

  She bowed her head sheepishly. “No one.”

  Oleg pushed his hand between them and slapped her soaked pussy. The splash pleased him greatly. “You’re in trouble for that,” he said, rubbing her oversensitive clit in tight, measured circles.

  “Your whip?” she asked.

  “A spanking will do, I think.” He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t sigh with relief.

  “A spanking then,” she confirmed. “But first, let me make Ivan feel good. I can’t leave him like that.”

  Ivan shook his head. “You’d better tie my hands first.”

  Samantha grinned. “Lay down.” She made quick work of restraining his wrists in the cuffs originally meant for her. She sized him up on the bed as he lay stretched out with his cock levitating from his pants and weeping precum. She pursed her lips. “How about a piece of candy to suck while I’m sucking you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I like candy.”

  She nodded. “I know.” Samantha overlooked the candy he’d been toying with and plucked a new one from the tray. She reveled in the chance to toy with him, running the candy over his lips in a few circular laps. He snapped his teeth, catching air when she pulled it away.

  “I told everyone that I’d be the only one to punish you, but you are really pushing it,” Oleg said with a pinch of her ass.

  She turned back to Oleg and winked as she pressed the candy into Ivan’s mouth.

  *

  The [almost] End

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  *

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  Epilogue

  Henri needed a minute to collect himself. He left the rest of them by the bed and headed for the shower in the corner of the room. There was a twist in his gut that he didn’t like one bit. He ran the water and stared into the mirror at the man who never let his feelings get the best of him. Not since he’d learned that feeling anything was a sign of weakness. The ability to disconnect and compartmentalize made him an excellent surgeon. It had served him well in countless BDSM scenes that weren’t meant to last longer than the candles he lit to set the mood. There wasn’t a reason he should feel so tied in knots, except the woman in the next room had been gnawing away at every barrier he’d ever erected. He wanted to let her in, let her closer, but he needed to keep her at bay. Oleg was right when he said she was dangerous. He was in real danger of tumbling into an endless well of desire where he could only see Samantha’s wry smiles and her ability to match him wit for wit. He knew now that he could love someone, and also that he couldn’t love her.

  A hard cough came from the direction of the bed. He thought little of it until a hor
rified shriek sounded into the air. Henri ran out to see what had Samantha so upset.

  “He can’t breathe!” she yelled.

  Henri went into action. “Untie him!” he said as he fished into Ivan’s mouth. There was nothing inside.

  Samantha held up the candy in her palm, brandishing it at him to reinforce the importance of what she had to say. “He spit it out! He’s not choking on it.”

  He sprinted to the closet where his jacket hung and grabbed the penlight he always carried. On the way back, he snagged the sterile pack of knives stashed with the other tools ready for some action. The scalpel inside was much duller than those he used for surgery since they were meant only for playtime, rather than to cut through muscle and cartilage. The penlight revealed little more than a severely swollen larynx, closed so tightly Ivan would suffocate in a matter of minutes if something wasn’t done.

  The overhead utility lights flickered on, and Paolo came jogging back to them.

  “What is it?” Oleg asked.

  “Stay with us, Ivan,” Paolo said, and Ivan’s bulging eyes flashed his way.

  “Grab my stethoscope!” Henri barked out. He needed to open Ivan’s airway immediately, and the semi-sharp scalpel and tubing from his stethoscope would have to suffice. “Hold him still, Oleg,” he said and brought the scalpel down to Ivan’s throat. He pressed in just under his Adam’s apple. Then with two quick slices, he produced a two-inch piece of tubing to insert into the incision.

  Ivan took a wheezing breath with desperate intensity, arching off the bed and then falling back again in a heap.

  Just as Henri took his own steadying breath, the intercom rang in. “We need help upstairs! People are choking, please hurry!”

 

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