by Tina Donahue
He used her well, unleashing his power, but also taming it at points, his slower thrusts attentive and affectionate.
Each time he revealed that side, barbarous need followed his tenderness.
She loved both sides and accepted him as he was: ‘the blond devil’ but also a good man she sensed was as lonely as she’d been.
Again, he picked up his pace, pushing her sentimentality aside, returning her to raw carnal hunger.
As greedy as him, she dismissed Max’s earlier warning and pushed toward Devlin, meeting him on every thrust, helping to drive his cock deeper into her passage.
No objection passed his lips. Like her, he was already winded, the delight too intense.
She squeezed him hard on his retreat and relaxed her muscles on his return journey.
He stroked her clit quicker and firmer.
They worked as one, fucking as if they’d been doing this forever and knew each other’s preferences.
Nothing he did decreased her delight.
His huffing and groans said she was on the right track with him.
Together, they reached the peak.
She sailed past it, hung suspended in euphoria, then slipped back to earth, strong beats pulsing in her pussy.
“Fuck.” Devlin coughed and cleared his throat. “Fuck.”
Jacquie couldn’t have said it better.
“Damn.” He rubbed his face against her shoulder. “Jesus.”
“Yeah, we get it.” Andy made an irked sound. “It was great. Get up. You’re crushing her.”
Devlin pressed his cheek against hers. “Am I?”
He wasn’t as light as a feather, but their fun was over. Not wanting to blurt the truth or hurt his feelings, she tried reason. “It’s Andy’s turn.”
“Shit.” Devlin lifted himself off her. His cock slid from her passage. Like Max, he stumbled back.
A chair creaked.
She guessed he’d fallen into it.
“Devlin.” Andy muttered something beneath his breath. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”
“No. What?”
Drumbeats filled the room.
A creak sounded, feet padding, water flowing at the sink to the side.
Devlin returned, holding a damp washcloth, and tended her, then nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “Sorry for forgetting.”
“You’re tired.”
“Yep.” His feet smacked the floor on his way to the sink. Water gushed then shut off. Furniture squeaked. Him dropping onto it.
“Don’t move.” Andy sank to his knees, undid the shackles, and rubbed her ankles. “Did the metal scrape you?”
Wasn’t possible. Velvet covered the inside so no sub would come to harm. “I’m good.” She hoped he planned to do something outstanding with her even if she wasn’t bound. “You?”
“I’m fine.” On his feet, he undid the wrist shackles and rubbed the areas they’d touched.
“No chafed skin there either.” She gave him a reassuring smile.
He eased her to him, arms wrapped around her waist. “Good. Your complexion’s too beautiful to harm.”
His compliment brought quick tears. She pushed them back, not wanting to pressure him or the others about this arrangement, reminding herself their time together equated to fun, nothing more.
She turned her face to his. “What now?”
The St. Andrew’s Cross beckoned, as did the spanking bench, and other items to give a Dom a hard-on for months.
Andy kissed her gently, grabbed cuffs from a nearby table, and dangled them near her face. “This. You. Me. Over there.” He gestured to a glass panel.
He’d lost her. “There isn’t anything over there to cuff me to.”
“Sure there is. Go.” He pointed.
His Dom had returned.
She wasn’t complaining. Once at the spot he liked, she waited for further instruction.
“Take off the heels. Then sit, hands in front, knees bent, legs parted—facing the glass.”
She’d been afraid he’d say that. Although the frail lighting masked her features, this still daunted her.
Nevertheless, she did as he’d ordered.
He snapped the cuffs on her wrists, placed the key to the side, then pushed her legs as far apart as possible, exposing her cunt and slit to voyeurs.
Jacquie’s face warmed, the heat travelling south, giving her a full-body blush.
Seated behind her, he eased her cuffed wrists over his head then settled them around his neck. Ensuring she lifted and exposed her breasts, effectively trapping her so she couldn’t touch herself.
Not wanting to, she didn’t mind.
After lifting his legs over hers, he rested his feet inside and used them to spread her thighs farther and keep them there, taking away any chance to close her legs—to either hide her nudity or stop whatever he’d planned.
She stared at her reflection in the glass.
A faint light flickered behind the pane, another joining in. Patrons smoking cigars or cigarettes as they enjoyed the Jacquie-and-Andy show.
This was beyond indecent. And more welcome than her next breath.
Trapped in the most delicious way, she collapsed against him.
He cupped her breasts and lifted each, displaying them for the unseen crowd.
Muffled applause bled into the room, barely audible beneath the raucous music.
Moisture streamed from her pussy, the decadence turning her on.
Andy thumbed her nipples and slid his hand down her stomach to her curls. He tugged a few, then dipped his fingers over the edge, and pushed three into her cunt.
Surprised, she reared back, opening herself farther, giving her fans a better look.
Andy thumbed her clit.
Her head dropped to the side, resting against his.
It was the only solace he provided. Having bared her to strangers and positioned her obscenely, he played with her nub and cunt, while also fondling her breasts. Her nipples grew harder, her skin hot from arousal and soul-deep need.
His stimulation threatened to inundate her. She writhed as well as she could, which wasn’t much. She yanked her cuffs, trying to pull them off so she could make him stop for a second to give her a breather. Failing at each effort, she succumbed to what he desired, because she craved it too.
He teased her clit and drove his fingers into her sheath for what seemed a long time. She had no way to tell.
Her climax lurked close, not yet revealing itself, then floated away.
She breathed hard and swore worse than a trucker, needing this to stop and go on, uncertain which would make her happier, requiring both.
Argh.
She clamped her jaw and didn’t let up until her neck ached. Relief wouldn’t come. She relaxed, or tried. That didn’t work either. She lifted her face to scream.
Release smashed into her, squeezing air from her lungs, spurring her heart to an explosive rate, her blood racing, fire coursing through her.
Wow.
If she died at this moment, she’d do so a happy woman, but would still yearn for another hour, day, month, year, or decade with them, which wasn’t possible.
Her rapture faded and her mood tanked. Still panting, she slouched against Andy. “Thanks.”
“Thank you.” He smelled his damp fingers, pulling in her scent.
His sweet-sexy gesture made her sadder.
They had no future. Nor did she with the other guys. This was about fun, dammit.
Too tired to play, dream, or fight fatigue any longer, she closed her eyes. “Can you take off the cuffs?”
“Sure. Are your arms hurting?”
Her soul was. “I’d like to kiss you.”
He had those babies off faster than it took to blink, his mouth covering hers, tongue slipping between her lips.
She returned his passion, wishing she could stop time, cursing herself for not having made out like this with Devlin and Max. They’d been too eager to have her and now they slept, the moment gone
forever.
Enjoying Andy, she hated to pull free but had to and pressed her cheek to his. “Do you mind if I… uh… if I…”
“What?”
The words wouldn’t come. Exhausted, she slipped into blessed sleep, loneliness and uncertainty forgotten.
Chapter 6
A swishing noise, similar to surf, roused Max.
What is that?
Eyes closed, he lifted his head. Searing pain shot through his neck. Ugh. He winced, kneaded the muscle, then rotated his shoulders. The fuckers cracked and ached as if he’d aged decades.
Crap.
He patted the area around him. Somehow, he’d ended up on a hard, smooth floor, meek light bleeding through his closed lids. Uncertain as to its source, he forced one eye open. Black candles flickered overhead, shining on weird BDSM furniture and punishment tools. Devlin sprawled on a chair, head thrown back, mouth open, and snoring. Andy had curled up near one of those nutty glass panels.
Jacquie stood yards away, pulling up her gown.
The rustling Max had heard. Made sense. Her getting dressed didn’t.
Rather than ask why she’d do so, he waited for her next move.
Bent at the waist, she adjusted her boobs in her dress, straightened, then cupped each globe to adjust it further.
Similar to a guy settling his junk in tight jeans to avoid pinching his balls.
Finished, she held her high heels to her chest and padded toward the door.
She couldn’t be leaving without saying anything, not even waking them to offer a brief goodbye.
Something must have happened during his snooze. Either Andy or Devlin got on her nerves or crossed some line to bother her. Jerks. Sadness pulled her mouth down, sorrow filled her eyes.
Max had to make this right.
Upon reaching him, she stepped to the side, her dress grazing his arm.
He grabbed her ankle.
She jerked and looked down, hair tumbling over her shoulders, surprise in her eyes.
Before she pulled away, he scrambled to his feet and held back an agonized howl at his back and neck cramping.
She rested her hand on his chest. “Are you all right?”
Her soft, warm palm and sweet fragrance made his agony bearable. “Yeah.” He slipped his arm around her waist and gestured to what she wore. “What’s this?”
“Huh?” She spoke as quietly as he had.
He touched her gown. “Why are you dressed? Were you leaving?” He inclined his head to the door.
Her face grew uneasy. She averted her eyes.
Her reaction wasn’t good, not to mention, it was unexpected. What happened to the Jacquie he liked? The woman who was genuine and guileless, no BS.
A sour taste rose to his throat. He forced it down, not believing she’d been putting on an act during the time they’d spent together. No one—not even Meryl Streep—was that good. Jacquie’s odd behavior had to be something else.
Max grasped her arm lightly and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Did Devlin or Andy do something to bother you?” Devlin being the primary suspect. Andy was generally too nice to piss off any woman. Maybe he was the problem—not satisfying her sexually. “What happened?”
She lowered her face.
He hoped to hell she wasn’t going to cry. Not being good with tears, he never knew what to say to make them stop. He should have kept his big mouth shut, but it was too late now. “Tell me, please.” He kissed her cheek.
She whimpered and sagged against him.
He liked the physical contact, but not the sound she’d made. “Do you want me to have a talk with them?”
“No.” She gripped his hair.
Her intensity surprised him. “I won’t, but if they—”
“Everything they did was great. Actually monumental.”
“Even Andy?”
She pulled back and glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Shit. The more Max talked, the worse this got. “He’s a nice guy.”
“I like the way he is.”
Clearly. “Great.”
She looked down her nose at him. “Being sweet, tender, and affectionate isn’t something to mock or avoid. Men who bully others are afraid of their feelings, which makes them cowards. The more sensitive guys have the courage to be themselves.”
Max wasn’t certain if she was insulting him, defending Andy, or both. “Okay.”
Her fury crumpled. She drew her fingers over his tat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go ballistic on you.”
“No prob.” He risked stroking her back.
She snuggled closer.
Her mood swings puzzled him. He suspected PMS, but wasn’t crazy enough to ask. However, he did need an answer to his earlier question. “Why were you leaving? You were, right? Without waking us?”
Guilt flooded her face, followed by a look he couldn’t read. He gestured in surrender. “Hey, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s cool. None of my business. Still, I would like to know if you were, at least, going to send someone else down here to wake us up. I, for one, wouldn’t want to get trapped in this room for the night with two other guys.”
She rubbed her forehead, messing up her bangs. “I was going to freshen up. Once I did, I would have come back.”
Her shoes told him another story. Bare feet didn’t make as much noise as heels. She hadn’t wanted to risk waking them when it would have been a simple matter to say she needed to make a pit stop and would be right back. Given what they’d done in here and in the gazebo, she didn’t strike him as particularly shy.
Even so, if Andy hadn’t disappointed her and Devlin hadn’t pissed her off, Max couldn’t figure out what was going on with her. “So we’re good for more play? Checking out the other areas—for the album?”
She had promised to help, and he didn’t want this evening to end yet. Foolish, perhaps, but he needed to run wild with her for as long as he could. Tomorrow morning and the following days would take care of themselves. “Unless there isn’t anything else to show us and you don’t have any more ideas.”
Her gaze slid to him. “Dream on. I’m nothing but brazen concepts.”
He begged to differ. She was far, far more, but he wasn’t about to voice his thoughts when she was in a snit. With his luck, she’d misinterpret his comment. “Yeah? Care to show me something to top this?” He gestured to the room then crossed his arms. “I don’t think there is anything.”
She lifted her chin. “You can’t imagine what Surrender offers.”
“Guess you’ll have to show me.”
“I’ll do you one better.” She poked his chest. “I’ll take you to where I’d planned to go.”
That didn’t sound good. He captured her finger and kissed it. “The ladies’ john? You’re sure?’
Giggling, she pressed her face against his throat.
Her warm breath and silken skin kick-started his cock, though her happiness thrilled him more, her previous sorrow gone. Had to be her erratic hormones. “Did I say something funny?”
“You did.” She patted his stomach then cradled his dick. “I wasn’t going to the john.”
He couldn’t have cared less what her destination had been as long as she kept playing with his dick and nuts, but figured he better sound interested. “No? Then where?”
“What are you doing?” Devlin pulled her away from Max and held out her arms.
Her shoes dropped and smacked the floor.
He ignored them and frowned at her gown. “Why’d you put that back on? Clothes aren’t allowed in here. Your dress is coming off right now.” He touched the zipper.
“Like hell.” Max punched Devlin’s hand away. “We’re going to the next spot.”
Andy padded to them, scratching his ass. “Where?” He glanced at the room. “It can’t be more radical than this.”
“Just as good.” She stroked Andy’s jaw. “But in a far different way.”
His and Devlin’s cocks thickened.
M
ax had them beat, his dick fully erect and pointing at her pussy. He glanced at the guys. “Get dressed. Jacquie and I are taking off now. With or without you.”
Devlin stopped dragging his hair back and spoke to her. “You were planning to leave me and Andy here?”
“No.” She gave Max a withering look. “We’re all coming.”
“Damn right on that.” Devlin worked his hand up and down his cock, beating his meat.
Everyone laughed, except Jacquie. She slipped on her heels and leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her ass and back against a glass panel, hiding the room from those voyeurs.
Max sobered first and grabbed his clothes, Andy and Devlin followed quickly.
Jacquie didn’t like being bitchy, but she couldn’t help herself.
When she’d awakened from a dreamless sleep, everything came flooding back, especially her dismay at the good times not lasting longer than a night. She shouldn’t have gotten involved with Devlin, Andy, and Max, because their being good guys and hot was killing her. No woman could go back to her regular life after knowing them. Doing so would be tantamount to gorging on chocolate then switching over to Brussel sprouts for her remaining days.
Dying would be easier.
She wanted them to fuck her raw until they couldn’t any longer, talk until everyone lost their voices, then start the whole process over.
Needing time alone to get her head on straight was the only reason she’d been ready to leave. Okay, she’d wanted to talk to Bree too, if she was still here. Ask for advice as to whether the guys would want to see her again. Bree probably didn’t have an answer Jacquie would like, but she had to give it a try. If Max hadn’t grabbed her ankle, she’d be in Bree’s office right now, wringing her hands and pouring her heart out rather than waiting for everyone to get dressed.
Max tugged his pants on too quickly, losing his balance. He jerked to the right and crashed against the wall.
Oooh. She stepped toward him. “Are you all right?”
“Never been better.” Pain scrunched his face, but he yanked on his pants and shoved his feet into his shoes.
Devlin’s shirt was inside out, his fly still undone. Swearing, he padded from spot to spot. “Anyone see my shoes?”
“By the spanking bench.” Jacquie pointed.