The pain sizzled, and Zevon thought his head was going to explode. She rubbed his cock, driving him crazy with desire. His nipples ached, throbbed, hurt like a motherfucker. His breaths came in gasps, the ball gag blocking his mouth, forcing him to flare his nose.
His back was fucking on fire, bruised, he knew. Christophe had dropped into subspace after the fourth blow, but Zevon let the pain wash over him. He didn't let go, didn't allow it.
When the second clamp bit his flesh, he grunted involuntarily, the pain ripping along his nerves. And she wasn't done. She held up a heavy slapper similar to the one he'd used on the Primarian vessel. “Don't you dare come,” she ordered, her voice hard, all Mistress.
The rush of pain, arousal, and need swept over him when she applied that slapper with deadly skill. She tapped his balls, the base of his cock, the hard length. While the dull thudding created pain in his crotch, she pressed her mouth against his neck, her tongue tickling his skin.
He moaned and shuddered, trying to hold back, his dick a raging bull. Even heavy blows from Andia's hand couldn't stop the blood pulsing in his cock. When she stopped, he almost whimpered.
"Christophe,” Andia snapped. “Come here."
Zevon's lover rose, his dick engorged, needy. Stars, Zevon wanted him, almost as much as he wanted her. Needed her.
Andia unlocked the cuffs and pressed on Christophe's shoulder. “On all fours,” she demanded, and Christophe knelt in front of Zevon, his fantastic ass presented to him.
She unlocked Zevon's cuffs and tipped his head up, demanding his attention. “You keep those hands respectful or I'll make you pay."
It was a test, but he wasn't sure he wanted to pass. He reached out and stroked Christophe's ass, his fingers probing the sensitive flesh around his tight hole.
When her hand slapped his, it stung. But not as much as his nipples when she jerked on the chains that hung from them. He snarled at her, and she tightened the slack on the chain until he knew his chest or his cock was going to explode.
Her breath was hot on his face, and he wanted to lunge toward her, devour her. The way she insinuated herself between Christophe and him, the way she pressed against them both as she tortured him drove him insane.
She tugged on the chain, and pain splintered along his nerves. “I'll tell you when to touch. I'll tell you when to slide that impressive cock deep inside him.” She nipped his chin. “You'll do it all when I say and not before."
The ball gag muffled his defiance, embarrassing drool slipping around the damn thing. She smiled and lifted a towel to his mouth. “Keep that up and I'll put a cage on that cock of yours too.” She reached down and held his gaze as her hand stroked his hard flesh. He wanted to spurt in her hand so badly but held back to the point of pain. Her voice was seductive and low. “But I don't want to cage this. I want to fuck you so hard that you drive it deep inside Christophe's ass and blow your wad."
Her crass language only made him hotter. Stars, he loved a woman with a filthy mouth. Sometimes submissive women could be driven to that state, but to be dominated with it was almost more than his already leaking dick could take.
She released him and retrieved something from her bag. In front of both of them, she strapped on her dildo. Zevon stared at this thing that would plunge inside him. It was larger than Christophe, larger than anyone Zevon had ever had in his ass. He swallowed, the fear and anticipation warring within him. Fuck, he didn't know whether to cry or demand more.
It didn't matter what he did. She was going to fuck him.
The lube shone in the glowlight, and she licked her lips. Zevon's cock was a breath away from Christophe's ass, but he knew better than to move. That tempting cave, so familiar, so arousing, was close, but Zevon couldn't have it until she said he could have it.
She stepped around him and pressed down on his back. “Bend over, Zevon. And when I ease inside you, take Christophe."
Her nails dug into his hips, and she dipped the end of her dildo inside his ass. He tried to relax, to accept it, but fuck, it hurt. Deeper, harder, she drove inside him. Her hands crept over his chest and pulled on the chains dangling from his nipples.
The pain in his chest diminished the pain in his ass. She stroked her way down until she reached his cock and gripped it hard. “Get inside him. I want you to fuck him. I want you to make him come, Zevon."
Zevon didn't recognize his own voice when he snarled, lunging forward. He thrust inside Christophe, the lack of lube making the man tight. Friction sent a shower of sparks along Zevon's nerves.
He reached his hand around Christophe's waist and grabbed the other man's cock. Hard and fast, Zevon stroked him in time to the thrusts of his dick. Soon all three of them rocked in rhythm.
"Come for me, Christophe. Spew for me. I want to see it,” Andia demanded.
Christophe cried out a long, guttural sound, and his release exploded. Zevon's hand was bathed in Christophe's cum. The smell made Zevon's dick throb. Stars, how could he hang on to his own release?
Andia answered his silent need by driving into his ass harder and yanking the chain on his nipples. The feel of her, the smell of Christophe, the pain of the clamps seemed to combine, to swirl around him.
Then it was quiet. Everything stopped. The intense arousal was still there, the pain still throbbed, but his mind drifted, content. He wanted to stay in that moment. His soul seemed to open, and he understood his own damage.
For so long, he'd been lost, unable to touch those around him, unable to accept their comfort. His need to feel had been driven under, buried beneath a shitload of pain and grief.
But here in this peaceful moment, he could accept Andia's touch, feel Christophe's flesh under his hands, belong to them. There was still pain and grief and loss. But it didn't consume him. Tears squeezed from his eyes.
"Mistress,” he choked out around the gag.
She froze, her strap-on buried deep inside him, her hands splayed over his belly. “What?"
He lifted his head and looked at her over his shoulder. The title had been ripped from him, torn out of his throat. This woman, Mistress of his soul, had brought him something elusive, something he'd thought unattainable.
Peace.
She lifted her hand to his face and stroked his cheek. “Bring Christophe to me, Zevon. I want him."
With his cock still buried inside Christophe's ass, Zevon yanked him back against his chest. He straightened, the dildo pressed deeper since Andia had stepped up on the low table in front of the couch. How the hell had she done that? Even Zevon, who prided himself on his effortless movements in the bedroom, had to marvel at her talent. Christophe's muscles clenched around Zevon's dick, and he groaned.
He pressed Christophe's head back against his shoulder and tipped his chin, offering the man to the woman who owned them both.
"Perfect,” she breathed and pressed her mouth to Christophe's. Caught by the two dominants, Christophe twisted but couldn't escape.
Andia broke the kiss with Christophe and put her lips next to Zevon's ear. “I want you to come now. Hard.” She increased the speed of her thrusts, and he rode Christophe hard, bending the man over and pounding him.
His release exploded, his nipples burning, his mate mark glowing, everything whirling and spinning. Deeper and deeper, becoming a part of them both, he slid inside Christophe, and she owned him.
When his orgasm finally stopped, his knees were weak and Andia had to catch him. Christophe was still on all fours, tears dripping down his face.
Andia's hands and lips soothed Zevon, and she removed the ball gag. Her mouth met his; he let her kiss him. When she lifted her head, her gaze glittered.
He studied her. “You haven't been taken care of."
"Say it again."
Zevon didn't have to ask her what “it” she meant. “Mistress,” he said. “Let me—"
"Shhh.” She stopped him. “I want you both to make me come. Many times. I want your mouth on my cunt, and I want his teeth on my tits. I want it all.
"
She rose from the floor and stripped out of her clothes, her boots, everything, until she was gloriously naked. “Keep your hands behind your back and show me how talented those mouths are."
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Chapter Fifteen
There was more? Christophe couldn't shake the fog from his brain. He'd come all over the nice, white carpet, and yet his cock filled again at the sight of her.
Lean, muscular, and tight, Andia embodied controlled beauty. Her pussy was smooth, shaved perfectly to reveal the dips and valleys so lush and ripe.
But Christophe loved her tits. They weren't perfect, perky breasts that filled a man's mouth but left him hungry. They were round and full, the nipples dusky and erect, waiting for his touch. He wanted to bury his face in them.
"Hands behind your back,” she repeated.
He and Zevon obeyed her and waited until she'd laid back on the low coffee table she'd just been standing on, fucking Zevon. Her blonde hair splayed over the glass surface, and she bent one knee in a casual position.
Relaxed and ready, she seemed to exude confidence. Christophe responded the way he always did. His cock stiffened more, his previous release only a precursor to the arousal he experienced now.
Zevon stared at Christophe. The man's dark eyes compelled and demanded obedience to both dominants. Christophe couldn't resist the silent order in his lover's gaze. Though Mistress Andia controlled this moment, Zevon's power over Christophe wasn't diminished.
With both of them watching him, Christophe wasn't sure if he was anxious or painfully aroused. He knelt beside the table, his hands clasped behind his back, and waited for his Mistress to direct him.
His Mistress.
All his life, he'd pretended to be a male dominant. He'd hidden this side of himself, this power that streaked through him when he knelt before a master. Zevon had met his need, accepting his submission, feeding his hunger.
But Andia fulfilled his ultimate fantasy.
The dichotomy of soft flesh and tough mind, the opposites of her warm, welcoming cunt and her demanding hands sent his desires into hyperspace. With her he explored the full dimension of his submission, gave it free rein and trusted her to catch him.
Zevon had been right. With him, Christophe had submitted but had resisted fully bending to his master's will. He'd hidden a part of himself away, still afraid that Zevon would reject him. But as he met his lover's look, Christophe realized he'd been a fool.
What Zevon wanted for him was what Christophe wanted for himself. Peace, acceptance, love. Zevon loved him. How could Christophe have believed anything else?
And now, they had a strange relationship with this Mistress.
"You're thinking too much, Christophe,” Andia stated. “Don't make me wait. I may get cold, and then I'll have to punish you."
Christophe jerked back to reality. She studied him for a long moment, and he leaned forward to press his mouth against her soft flesh. The smell of her skin, the heat of her spurred him to take more liberties.
He slid his tongue over the delicious ridges of her right nipple, teasing her. She arched toward his mouth, and her hand reached out to thread through his hair to move him closer. He obeyed her silent demand and sucked the sensitive point into his mouth and rolled his tongue over its details.
She brought her hands up and pressed her breasts together. He devoured the twin nipples offered to him, scraping his teeth over them, reveling in the way she undulated under his touch.
"Zevon, I want your mouth on me,” she demanded.
Christophe sensed his lover move closer and heard the soft rustle of skin as Zevon parted her legs. The moment Zevon's mouth touched her pussy, Christophe knew. Her muscles clenched, and she froze beneath his ministrations and Zevon's.
He sucked on her tits harder, rhythmically, determined to drive her over the edge. Her breath hitched, and she heaved upward, taut as an arrow.
She moaned and then hissed. Zevon's answering growl told Christophe that she was wet, needy, and ready to come. Christophe bit her nipple, and her hands flexed on her rounded flesh. He glanced at her face and wished he could stare all night.
With her head thrown back, she personified desire. Her features were tight, her neck corded with pleasure. Then she gave a guttural cry, her hips frantic, twisting.
Zevon groaned. Christophe slowed the rhythmic sucking on her nipples. She panted, but her hands held her breasts together for his attention.
When she finally relaxed, she gripped Christophe by the hair. “Help me up."
He rose and gave her his hand. Zevon still knelt at the end of the table, his dark gaze glittering, his chin shone with Andia's cum.
She pointed to the table. “Lay down so your legs are dangling over the end."
Christophe glanced at Zevon and laid down, his cock hard and ready but controlled. Still, he almost lost it when Andia straddled him and slammed him inside her. He gritted his teeth, and his hands automatically grabbed her hips. “Stars,” he hissed.
Then she leaned back and beckoned to Zevon. “You too. Inside me."
"Mistress—” Zevon started.
"Don't argue. I want both of you inside me. Now,” she demanded.
Zevon stepped forward and leaned down, his cock at her entrance. It was Andia who gripped his cock and eased him into her cunt.
Stars, the feel of Zevon against him, her walls squeezing them both, made him tremble. Christophe had reveled in the sensation of Zevon's cock through the thin tissue when they'd fucked her pussy and her ass.
Now Zevon was right there, their dicks side by side, tightly held by Andia's wet channel. She dictated the movement, not them. She squirmed and thrust, jamming them deeper. When she exploded, her warm cum surround them, Zevon shouted and snarled.
"Come for me. Both of you,” she said loudly.
Zevon jerked and spurted inside her. The combination of her permission and Zevon's release made Christophe mindless. He reached up and cupped Andia's tits as he thrust inside her again and again.
His climax ripped through him and set off another explosion in his Mistress. She squeezed them both, her cunt a wicked vise that wrested every drop of cum from both of them.
Zevon collapsed to his knees, his head in his hands, and dry sobs racked his body.
Andia slid off Christophe and turned to press her mouth against Zevon's. “So perfect,” she murmured.
Christophe couldn't even speak. He lay on the table, stunned, breathless. All this time, he'd believed he'd never find that place, that moment where he could submit and be himself. Years of pretending to be something he wasn't were ripped from him.
The cool glass on his butt reminded him he was on display, naked. The sound of Zevon's broken sigh caught his attention. Christophe had missed his lover, and now that he'd had him like this—
Where his thoughts might have gone, he didn't know. The chime of the vid bell tossed him back into reality.
Someone had found them.
Andia froze. All the warmth from lovemaking with the two men she owned was gone. Who could it be? She'd noticed a robe on a hook by the bathroom door. She crossed the room and quickly shoved her arms in the sleeves.
She pressed the vid bell to see who had found their room. It could be a maid or someone completely harmless. Fear made her mouth dry.
On the screen, the last face in the world she expected to see materialized. Yalani.
"Let me in. Please, Mistress.” Yalani's blue eyes were hunted, frightened.
Andia glanced back and was relieved to find both men had dressed. Zevon nodded, and Christophe only tensed. She let Yalani in.
The woman was disheveled, her hands clasped together, her knuckles white. Her face was pale and pinched. She'd lost weight.
"How did you find me?” Andia demanded.
Yalani's glance flickered to Christophe. “I placed a tracker in Christophe's ankle."
Christophe tightened his lips and clenched his fists. “A new version of the Achil
les’ heel?"
"I had to. They sent Rina the assassin to kill me. I needed to be able to find them when the time was right.” Yalani wrung her hands, a nervous gesture that only irritated Andia rather than create sympathy.
"You realize you led the assassin to us, to me,” she said harshly. “My enhanced guards are dead, and neither of these men are trained for the kind of skill this woman has to kill.” Andia glared at Yalani, and the woman shrank back. “Why did you need to find them?"
The woman's lips trembled. “That assassin, Rina, demanded that I-I—” Her voice faded and stopped.
Andia straightened her back and towered over Yalani. “Rina demanded you support fabricated evidence. Which you did."
Yalani's watery blue eyes were cagey. Andia glanced at Christophe and Zevon. The men remained quiet but vigilant. Andia knew exactly why Yalani had traced Christophe. A scapegoat.
"What went wrong, Yalani?” Andia stepped closer, intimidating the councilwoman with her height. “Did you try and blackmail Pavlik and failed?"
Yalani's eyes narrowed, and her jaw clenched. “He thought he could snap his fingers and I'd do what he wanted,” she snapped.
"So you told me these men were innocent but gave me no evidence. Pavlik must have been furious.” Andia circled Yalani, making her the center, reminding the councilwoman of their roles. Yalani was a submissive, and Andia was a Domme.
Yalani licked her lips. “He—That was when he called in Rina."
"To kill us.” Andia waved her hand at the two men.
"When you escaped Muan, he sent Rina after me.” Yalani sent a pleading glance not at Andia but at Christophe. “You have to help me."
Andia reached out and gripped Yalani's chin, forcing the woman to face her. “I'm the one you have to convince. Not Christophe. He's paid the price of trusting the council."
Yalani's throat moved as she swallowed. “I can get you proof."
"Of what?” It was a good thing Leo Eyler had provided something or Andia might have been desperate enough to jump at anything. Still the file Leo had named was just a number. It was always good to have backup.
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