Ramsey interrupted their silent exchange.“And now we get to the variations possible with the different sexes.” He grazed his wife’s lips with a smile. “Hold your position, Vixen.” He turned to Tristan. “You can leave his cock unbound, appropriate if you wish him free to have sex.” Mage caught Ramsey’s eye and immediately mistrusted the devilry lurking within his gaze. “Or, my preference, bind him in such a fashion as to immobilize him and then tease him with impossibilities.”
Mage opened his mouth to voice his wishes, but Tristan grabbed the back of his head and kissed him into silence. When Tris pulled back, he murmured against his lips, “Game pieces have no say. They move as the master wills it.”
“I’m in for a long afternoon, aren’t I?” His unruly cock twitched at the provocative images that marched through his brain. He repressed a groan at Tristan’s throaty laugh.
“There’s always your safe word, princess.” Tristan released his head and Mage closed his eyes on a long exhale. “Clasp your hands behind your head, and don’t move until I tell you to.”
With Ramsey directing, Tris wrapped a piece of narrower, softer cord around the base of his cock, pushing his balls higher, away from the base of his shaft.
Fingers linked, his hands at the nape of his neck, Mage resisted the temptation to drop his head and watch his handsome lover. The appreciation and arousal on the face of Ramsey’s redheaded wife was torture enough. Her eyes meandered from his face to his groin and lingered on his erection. When her golden eyes returned to his, the tip of her pink tongue dampened her lower lip. She threw a ravenous glance at her husband and shivered.
“Good,” Ram said. “Now, run your cord here and here.”
The stretched skin of his scrotum thinned further when Tris made several figure-eight loops around the base of his cock and between his balls. Tris gently teased each vulnerable testicle with feather-light caresses and gooseflesh erupted on his legs. In an involuntary motion, Mage pushed his hips forward, silently beseeching attention to his rampant erection.
Tris stepped into Mage’s body and nuzzled his neck. “I get off on every snug of cord or ribbon drawn tight against your cut body. Muscle definition like yours requires dedicated effort. All that time alone in space. Were you working off sexual frustration, Captain?”
“Something like that.”
“Mmm. I should keep you needy. I love the result.”
“Don’t get any bright ideas, Tris.”
Sin saturated Tristan’s low chuckle.
Every hair on Mage’s body responded.
Ramsey’s voice interrupted their murmured intimacies. “Now, crisscross up the length of his cock, snug it to his abdomen and then tie off the cord in a dijamant knot at the small of his back.”
Mage fought not to grab Tristan’s hands as the man laced his painfully hard erection in black, each turn of the ribbon binding his engorged flesh until it seemed his heart pulsed within his erection rather thanhis chest. The soft cord measured every centimeter of his shaft as if a ruler. He felt as long as his forearm and as hard as the carbonite hull of his ship. Tris finished with a loop under the flare of his cock head, and then ran the lengths of cord behind his back. With a firm tug, Tris secured the ends.
Mage flinched at the bite. Erotic heat swept through him, aggravated by the black cord that wrapped his shaft from base to tip, enforcing its upright rigidity. He swore softly. “Fuck. How am I supposed to think of anything other than my dick?”
Ramsey chuckled. “You’re not. It makes the carnal tease more gratifying.”
“For me… or you and Tristan?”
“You know the answer, Captain—for all of us.” Ramsey’s gaze tangled with Steffania’s. “Submission and dominance should tantalize both. Who’s to say which party benefits most?” His eyebrow rose at the enigmatic smile and rosy blush that swept his wife’s face.
With a smile lurking at the corners of his mouth and humor lacing his voice, Ramsey murmured another order. “Captain, spread your fingers and cross your hands over your chest at the wrists. Feel free to think about your dick. Tris, I’m going to demonstrate the ragnatela, or ‘cobweb’. You will appreciate the intricacies of the design. It is useful if you wish to immobilize only the hands and fingers. I particularly like the ragnatela for prolonged tease and denial as it doesn’t compromise circulation. Your subject can be bound for days at your mercy, yet still retain almost all their mobility. It’s quite diabolical.”
At Steffania’s soft intake of breath, Ramsey stepped back to his wife. Their gazes locked. “You’ve always said so.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Ram trailed a slow finger up Steffania’s side, detouring to tease her erect nipple, and caressed her cheek. He gave an infinitesimal growl and murmured something unintelligible, but from the smoldering exchange of glances, the gentle undulations of her hips, and her whispered, “Oh, please, Dominus,” Steffania understood him quite well. Wrenching his gaze from his lovely model, Ram selected a length of ribbon. He nodded at Tris. “It begins like this.”
Mage mentally substituted Angelica for Steffania and Tristan for Ramsey. What would their lovely Angel look like at the end of, say… three days of erotic teasing? He wanted to find out. Pain from his laced balls streaked through his groin when his bound cock attempted to pulse at the provocative consideration. With an inner wince, he erected detour signs across that trail of thought. Right now, he didn’t need that image strolling through his brain. Mage steeled himself for more of Tristan’s sensual torture and tried to block out his cock’s screams of frustration.
***
The carnal electricity generated by the two pairs mere feet from her overwhelmed Angelica. The powerful dynamic between Lord Ramsey and Steffania and the equally compelling interaction and blatant arousal of Tristan and Magellan ensnared her. She yearned to take Mage’s place as the recipient of Tristan’s lingering caresses, inflammatory whispers and provocative nips and kisses. Her heart pounded. Her limbs felt weak. The flesh between her legs had long ago grown slick and swollen. Between the folds of her robe, she cupped her breast and circled her thumb over the hard bud of her nipple. Her head fell back and her eyes slid closed at the pleasure. Spreading her thighs further, she slipped a hand between her legs to finger her clit. She whimpered at the gratification.
Tristan’s rich chuckle drowned out her heavy pants. They sounded loud in the suddenly quiet room. “Mage, you are not the only one aroused by watching.”
She opened her eyes and stilled her hands at Tristan’s voice.
“Continue. Stop just before you come. Count aloud to thirty. Then resume.” Wicked mischief lurked in his gaze. “Repeat those steps until I tell you to stop.”
His gaze devoured her. So did Ramsey’s and Steffania’s and Magellan’s.
“Yes, Sir.”
She thrilled at being Mage and Tristan’s sole focus. If Tris wanted a show, she’d give him one. She’d make herself irresistible. Sitting with thighs splayed wide, she undid the belt of her robe and allowed it to slide from her shoulders to puddle on her feet and then resumed her erotic play. One hand teased, tugged and rolled her nipple while the other slid into her slippery heat, spreading her swollen flesh, tickling the entrance to her body and spreading her moisture up to circle her clit. A moan slipped from her lips as she held Tristan’s gaze. “I want to give this to you, Sir. I want you and Magellan here.” She slowly inserted her two middle fingers into the heat of her sheath and shivered. “Your cocks would fill me so much better than my slender fingers. Let my body pleasure you.”
Tris pressed against the length of Mage’s back and rested a chin on the man’s shoulder.One arm circled his waist.One hand teased the head of Magellan’s entrapped cock.
Mage’s half-lidded eyes settled on her before sliding closed. He groaned. “Fuck. I can’t watch. It’s too much.”
Ramsey snorted, his eyes sweeping first Magellan and Tris and then her. “Yes. It is.” He gathered his immobilized wife into his arms and st
rode toward the door. “I’ll be back for my bag. Tomorrow.”
Steffania’s soft laughter trailed them as he exited Tristan’s apartment and kicked the door closed.
At the heavy slam, a thrill of triumph coursed through Angelica. She’d snared all the room’s occupants in the net she’d cast with her provocative display, though she’d not directed her seduction at Lord Ramsey—and the significance of that wasn’t lost on her. Now to land those she’d meant to catch.
Tristan feathered the pads of his fingers over the balls and cock of a shuddering Magellan, all the while devouring the sight of her working herself. “Watch her, Captain. She is worth your attention. She deserves your regard.”
Mage’s shaggy black head rose and his green gaze leveled on her. The heat and avarice in both their eyes spiked her arousal as if a second and third pair of hands stroked her breasts and pussy, the inside of her thighs. Orgasm loomed. She stopped. A whimper of protest escaped. Her eyes rose to Tristan’s and begged.
His mouth framed one word, “Count.”
Panting, she forced the numbers from her mouth. She ached to touch herself. The chest of each man rose and fell visibly. At thirty, she resumed her play—only to stop in moments. Her hands hovered over flesh that begged touch. She counted again. When she resumed, she could endure only four light strokes before climax threatened. She didn’t care how frantic she sounded. “Please, Sir, let me serve you. Take me.”
“Count.”
She closed her eyes with a shudder and stumbled to thirty. Her fingers trembled as she played gossamer touches over her nipples and clit.She bit her lower lip painfully. The distraction was pointless. She remained balanced on atripwire. Any small move would ensnare her in climax.
“Your eyes on me. I want to see your desperation. I want Mage to see your arousal. Show us, Angel.”
At Tristan’s growled demand, she opened her eyes. She filled them with the want that tortured her. She lost count of the number of times Tristan demanded she stop and start. She’d never loathed a sound as much as she did the word “count.” The need for completion shattered her. She spent more time counting than stroking her needy flesh; then thirty counts was no longer enough for her arousal to subside.
“One, two, three…” Her tongue lagged and her voice faltered. Somewhere in the teens, she lost track and stumbled to a halt. “Please, no more. I can’t… no more.” She shook her head, begging.
“Kneel on the bed. Face the headboard. Hands behind you. Legs widespread.”
She leaped to obey Tristan’s clipped command as Tristan grabbed a razor knife from a bedside table and sliced the cobweb of black ribbon binding Mage. Her body ached and trembled as she knelt in obedience, facing the headboard, clasping and unclasping her forearms behind her.
“How did I get so fucking lucky?” Tristan’s low growl filled the small bedroom.
“Tristan…”
Tris swore. The sounds of a violent kiss interrupted Magellan’s murmur and when she turned her head enough to catch them in her peripheral vision, Mage had melted into Tristan’s embrace. Tristan kissed him as if he were starved for air and Mage was oxygen. When they pulled apart, Mage lifted a hand and cupped Tristan’s face. Warmth from more than simple lust gleamed from Magellan’s eyes.
Tristan’s gaze found her. He shook his head as if unable to comprehend she was real. “So fucking lucky.”
The need shaking her body increased at the emotion held in his gray eyes. She and Mage were more than sexual conquests to Tristan, more than a means to an end. The knowledge settled into her with conviction. At this moment, Angelica’s most earnest desire was to please them. She’d endure the torment of denialif it was their wish. It would be enough to make Sirhappy, to make Mage happy. But you know neither one will leave you wanting. Laughter welled up inside her. They make it so easy to put them first.
“Lower your chest to the bed.”
“Yes, Sir.” She turned her face to the side and sank her shoulders to the bed. With her hips in the air and her thighs spread wide, her intimate flesh opened in incendiary display. The air felt cool on her inner folds. Bared, exposed, vulnerable…all those words described her feelings, as well as eager, greedy and aching.
The bed dipped behind her. A finger slipped between her legs and dallied in her slickness. “You’re soaking, Angel,” Mage said.
“Mmmhmm. Your fault,” she murmured.
Mage played the broad head of his cock in her warmth before nudging into her pussy. He paused for eternal seconds of tease. With a low grunt, he gripped her hips and drove home. Her muscles gripped him like a tight fist despite her arousal. Discomfort twinged through her and increased when he hit her end. Her breath hitched. He noticed.
His thumbs and fingers massaged soothing circles in the cheeks of her butt. “Easy, sweetheart. I’ll be still.”
“No, please.” She choked on the words. “Anything but that. You don’t know what watching you and Tristan did to me. I’ll loosen in a moment.”
Mage and Tristan chuckled. She almost moaned at the vibration from the engorged piece of flesh that split her in two. She did moan when Mage surged violently forward, overfilling her.
“Damnation, Tris! Give me some warning before sticking your fingers up there.”
“Now where’s the fun in that, princess?”
Mage’s hands dug into her flesh and he steadied himself on her hips. She could only imagine where Tristan’s fingers were going, but when Mage bent over her back and dropped an arm beside her head with a muttered obscenity, she suspected more than Tristan’s fingers were involved. Magellan abandoned her hips entirely, and with a low groan, braced himself on both arms. She arched her back to give him room to remain fully embedded and a new sort of torture began.
“I’m driving the fucking, dear ones,” Tris said. “I will set the pace. I want this to last for a while. Ah, knew I’d forgotten something. You require my permission to come.”
“Sadistic asshole,” Mage muttered.
“Yes,” Tris affirmed. “Don’t forget it.”
Pressed forward, she was sure by Tristan’s hips, Mage groaned and rocked into herin a gentle cadence. She shuddered and echoed his sound as his fat cock teased her inner flesh and his balls pressed a massage of soft flesh against her clit. Climax padded forward on steady feet, stalking her. She was easy prey. This wasn’t going to take long, regardless of what Tristan commanded, and she was helpless to prevent it.
***
From the sounds coming from our Angel’s mouth, she’s not going to last. Tristan hoped he could hold himself together when she came. “Don’t you dare go over, Captain. Even if she does, don’t you dare.”
“Fuck. You don’t want much, do you?”
“You have no idea how much I want. None whatsoever.” His captain shuddered underneath him and the muscles of Mage’s hot interior clenched around his savagely provoked cock. Tris had been hard for hours. Each wrap of black ribbon on his captain’s cut body, each inflammatory challenge from those green eyes, stroked his engorged shaft. And Angelica… by the Consort’s balls… Angelica. What he desired from those two terrified him with its intensity. He wanted the whole thing. Children. Home. Family.
Everything.
For always.
Impossible.
Tris could feel the results of Angelica’s climax as with wild gyrations as she slammed herself back onto Mage and screamed her deity’s name into the mattress. Mage went rigid. Every muscle in his forearms, biceps and deltoids strained. His buttocks clenched into a solid mass. His chest heaved and a fountain of curses spewed from his mouth. Tristan froze until Mage relaxed and panted less colorful words.
Tris meandered a caress down Magellan’s spine. “You okay?”
“Define okay.”
Tristan chuckled. “I’m going to move.”
“If you must.”
“Oh, yes, my beautiful man…I must.” He pulled his hips back in a long glide accompanied by Magellan’s low hiss. He plunged back i
nto Mage’s hot body, held for a count and then slowly withdrew again. His eyes crossed. He thought of rotting carcasses, steaming piles of offal—anything but the wild pleasure taunting his body with imminent orgasm.
“Ah, fuck, Tris. That’s… ah… fuck.” Magellan threw his head back and straightened from the waist. His hands gripped Angelica’s hips and clamped her languid body to him with a groan. “Please, finish it. I’ve been on the edge for hours. My balls are rocks. I’m asking, Tris.”
Tris closed his eyes and granted Magellan’s request. It took embarrassingly little.
Chapter Sixteen
You came without permission. Quite loudly, I might add. Your gyrations made obedience more difficult than necessary for our sweet captain.”
Tristan’s gravel vibrated in her ear and destroyed the sublimedaze in which she floated. Angelica stiffened as much as the weight of two large males collapsed across her would allow.
“It’s hard to breathe.”
Tristan chuckled and rolled off Mage to lie beside her.
Mage groaned. “For the first time in hours my cock’s not complaining. I’m not moving.”
Angelica wiggled to rearrange herself so breathing came easier.
“I think some sort of punishment is in order for your disobedience and for testing our captain so severely. Mage, you suffered most from her lack of control. Why don’t you decide what form it will take?”
Mage snugged his groin more firmly into the contours of her buttocks and hummed. He pushed off her abruptly and knelt facing Tris. “Yes.”
He rolled to his side and left the bed. When he returned, several strands of black ribbon dangled from his hand.
Angelica rolled to her back and pressed up on her elbows. “What?” Her gaze bounced from Magellan’s straight face to Tristan’s growing smile of comprehension. “What?” The men ignored her.
“I’m not the experienced practitioner that you are, but if you will oversee, I’m going to duplicate the ragnatela binding on our uninhibited angel. I think Lord DeKieran’s suggested use for it will be an entertaining way to pass some time,” said Mage.
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