by Joey W. Hill
“Oh…” Cass dropped her head back deeper into the decorative throw pillow supporting it, exposing her throat as Lucas did that feathering thing again, only this time he stayed there, rubbing between her legs in a steady motion that fanned a flame into an excruciating blaze. He kissed her stomach, brushing his golden-streaked hair over her breasts. Moved down to kiss her thighs, her hip bone.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
Marcie cried out and jerked as if trying to avoid the blows. Ben took a firm hold on her hair and kept going as she resisted, fighting him, trying to twist out of his grip. Cass’s eyes snapped up to them.
“Easy.” Lucas moved up her body, dragging his lips over her throat and to the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. “Notice her range. It’s as if there’s an invisible circle drawn around her, and she’s not going outside of it.”
As Cass struggled to focus, she realized he was right. Though she could, Marcie wasn’t moving out of the reach of where the strap could hit her. Instead, her gyrations allowed the belt to hit her buttocks at multiple angles, as well as her upper thighs, and occasionally—making Cass wince—the tender area between her thighs. Her writhing, and Ben’s permitting her the movement, seemed designed to let Marcie spread the effect of the blows so it didn’t get too intense in one area.
“It’s resistance play, sweetheart,” Lucas said softly. “Looks rough, but it’s the way tigers play. They’re like tigers, the two of them.”
Cass drew in another startled breath as, in a move as quick as a pouncing tiger in truth, Ben gripped the back of Marcie’s neck and shoved her down so her forehead was against the couch arm, her upper arms pulling out of Cass’s grasp. Holding her down, Ben increased the speed of the strikes, hitting her ass, her tender thighs, her back. Cass reached for her hands, still holding the couch, and conflict gripped her as Marcie cried out into the cushions in true pain. Only Lucas’s hold on her own body, her struggle to remember he’d never misjudged or led her falsely, kept her from protesting. Yet as Ben at last relaxed his hold on her nape and Marcie lifted her face, Cass saw her expression. Tears from the stress ran down her face, and her mouth was open and gasping for air, but her eyes were filled with as much arousal as Cass’s were.
When Ben set the belt aside and dropped to one knee, Cass suspected he’d used those powerful hands to grip Marcie’s buttocks, part them and go to work on her rim with tongue and lips, because the strangled, strange cry from her lips sent sensation spearing through Cass’s own vitals. It was the sound of undiluted desire, a keening female in heat, caught in pleasurable agony.
She had to have welts on her ass and thighs, but Marcie was still pressing herself deeper into Ben’s hands, against his mouth. The whispered “Master” from her lips was as reverent as a prayer to God for His blessings. His mercy.
A feeling Cass understood too well, because seeing the transition from pain to pleasure tore her loose from whatever control she had over her own body. A deep, tearing need filled her lower belly, a convulsion jerking through her. “God…please…Master. Lucas…I can’t bear anymore. Please.” The oil had reached its full raging potency, where this hanging climax feeling could go on and on and on. Her hips bucked, her head thrashed, and she licked her lips repeatedly. Flailing, she reached up and latched into Marcie’s forearms again. But she needed Lucas’s touch, his mouth, his cock. It wasn’t just the oil. It was all of it; watching Ben and Marcie, all the ways Lucas touched her, and a whole night slam-packed full of stimulation. She needed him inside her. Now.
Then the world disappeared in flame, because he bent and put his mouth on her clitoris, sucking on it so very gently. The oil adhered strongly; he knew just how much he could do without removing or lessening its effect. Her whole body jerked, and her nails tore skin from Marcie’s forearms, probably enough to draw blood.
“Oh God…sorry…”
Lucas rescued her sister from permanent scarring, grasping Cass’s flailing hands and bringing them back down, hooking the two wrist cuffs together and holding the connector. Her fingers curled around his, digging into the top of his hands, only this time that won an approving look.
“Those nails are all mine,” he reminded her with a sternness that only made her hotter. “As are you.” Bending, he scooped her off the sofa and took her away from Ben and Marcie, striding toward the bedroom. Ten steps, and every one of them jolted through her core, so she was writhing like a captured wild animal when he laid her down on the mattress.
“Now,” she demanded. “Fuck me now.”
He unlatched the cuffs. He stood above her naked, the tip of his cock coated with viscous fluid, the organ jutting up against his sectioned stomach muscles. “Beg, love,” he said. “Or you get nothing.”
“Please. Please, Master. Fuck me…Please…oh God, I can’t take anymore.” It was too much. She knew how an animal in a trap felt, this overwhelming feeling that was making her want to do crazy, insensible things, but there was no escaping this. She wanted to rear up and fight him, have him put her down on her stomach and fuck her like an animal in truth. Only he could relieve this agonizing need. She reached for him, knowing she shouldn’t, but he wanted her, too. His control was at the finish line. She saw it in the fire in his eyes, the hardness of his flexing muscles, the set of his mouth. He’d deny himself no longer, thank every deity there was.
He stretched out upon her, earning a cry of gratitude, followed by a vicious wail as he held her down with his body, pinning his cock against her abdomen and preventing her from adjusting to the right angle to take him into her immediately. She was far beyond any vestige of self-control. As he held her wrists to the bed and went after her breasts again, sucking and playing, she screamed, cried, begged and cursed him, her head thrashing back and forth, heels clamping around his calves.
Then he lifted his upper torso and framed her face in his hands, his chest against her aching breasts, muscled stomach flexing against her weeping, throbbing cunt.
“Lucas,” she sobbed.
“You are my fantasy,” he said softly, his eyes holding the fierceness of a star’s center. “The fantasy I want every day, until the end of time.” Tilting up her chin, he circled her throat with his big hand. Miraculously, at the constricting pressure, her restless, vibrating body stilled and centered for one key moment, her eyes locked with him as she responded to that thing between them that defied description, the internal dialogue between Master and sub that could supersede anything, even Jon’s crazy oil.
Then, gift of the gods, he thrust into her just the way she needed it. Hard, brutal, filling her up to a painful stretch. It told her how much he’d been affected by all of this. As large and impressive as he normally was, right now he could give even Ben’s excessive proportions some competition.
“Mark me, wild cat,” he muttered in her ear. “Make me suffer.”
Once the friction of the thrusting started to dislodge the oil, the climax would advance, building higher and higher, but in an agonizing, gradual way that summoned long, thin cries from her lips long before she reached that peak. The need and desire did make her savage, so she obeyed like the wild cat he’d called her, digging in and raking her nails up his broad back, over the powerful, rippling muscles, her heels hammering against his taut, thrusting buttocks as he penetrated her deeper and deeper, all the way to the soul and the dark and light places beyond it.
Nails weren’t enough. She set her teeth to his shoulder and bit, a guttural sound coming from her throat so beast-like it would have startled her if she’d had any brain cells to recognize how far behind she’d left civilized behavior. Lucas gripped her hair to break that lock and fastened his mouth on hers instead, taking over with a demanding, punishing kiss as he thrust so hard into her body he was shoving them up against the brace of pillows buffering the headboard.
Hammer, hammer, hammer. It fit everything, the way he was taking her, the insistent pounding of her heart and pulse, the need between her legs and in every cell of her body. And that was all before t
he climax finally broke free.
He had his mouth on hers, so her hoarse screams were swallowed by his breath, his hand dropping to palm her ass and tilt her up, a different deep angle that took her well past the limits of any safety advisory for climaxes to keep the body from shattering and the brain from exploding. He was whispering things to her, things possessive and wonderful, dark and cruel, but all boiling down to the essentials.
Mine. Mine forever.
If someone tried to get between them, to defy the biblical vows they’d said to one another to have and hold forever, it wouldn’t be their union torn asunder. Lucas would take apart whoever dared to try and get between them. Piece by piece. If she didn’t take them apart first.
It was during that ferocious three-word declaration that he let himself release within her, the heated jet of his seed inside propelling her ever higher, along with his primal groans against the shell of her ear, the tight coil of his hand in her hair, his bruising fingerprints in her buttock.
This was animal passion. No, beyond that. Animals understood and respected the balance of nature and the boundaries that kept them within certain parameters, even between life mates. Only people pushed past that boundary into obsession like this, where their love could shatter every concept of right or wrong and just leave this glowing, vibrant energy beyond reason or thought, forever straddling the line between life and death, limited by neither, even if it destroyed the balance of the universe. Having one another was everything.
When she’d watched it start to manifest between Ben and Marcie only a few moments ago, some part of her recognized it, but it was here, in the arms of her Master and knowing that dark realm was accessible to all of them if the need and bond were strong enough, that she accepted it. And was at peace.
As well as pretty much destroyed and content to be that way. Lucas continued to move inside her, his eyes on hers, his right hand linked with her left. The other palmed her buttock, helping her move on the waves of pleasure still carrying them. The oil could keep her shuddering and contracting upon his length for a good fifteen minutes after climax. Her considerate Master, not averse to feeling the tight glove of her sex clutching his cock, was more than willing to help her ride those aftershocks.
Further visual stimulation prolonged the reaction. Sometime during their lovemaking, the rhythmic sound of strapping and Marcie’s sharp cries of reaction had ceased. Cass didn’t know what Ben had done afterward, but when he brought Marcie to the bed and stretched her out on her stomach next to Cass and Lucas, a foot of space between them, her fellow submissive was gasping, moaning and pleading, her face suffused with desire and marked with tears. Cass knew her own cheeks had similar evidence, in half-dried tracks.
When Marcie’s hand fell near hers, Cass managed to slide her hand under her sister’s. Their fingers immediately linked, just as they’d done at the beginning.
“We end as we started,” Cass whispered, meeting her sister’s lust-infused brown eyes. It might seem weird to anyone else, but so much of this was hard to explain to anyone else anyway. Even as a submissive, before tonight, she might have wondered if they were right, outsiders who thought a fantasy such as what had just played out in this suite was past the line of acceptable behavior. Now she was fiercely, deeply glad she’d made this journey with her sister and her husband, as well as her own. She felt she saw and understood things far better, not just about Ben and Marcie, but about her and Lucas. The wonderful thing about marriage and love was there was no end to the rooms to explore, if both hearts were willing. Always worlds within worlds to find.
Marcie’s nails dug into hers. While Cass was drifting into a reflective, mellow, half-aroused but post-coital bliss, she realized her sister still teetered on the pinnacle of near-climax. And Ben…
Her breath drew in, pussy clutching hard on Lucas as she looked at her sister’s Master. Ben’s visage was suffused with all the pure male hunger that had so overwhelmed Cass, seeing it in Lucas’s face. Yet there was an additional dark savagery to it that went along with Ben’s sadistic nature, giving it a different, titillating edge. It goaded feminine desire as well as deeper, anxious feelings of self-preservation, the rabbit wondering if she should run or let herself be caught. While Marcie obviously wanted to be irrevocably caught in the jaws of that trap, yearning for the consequences, Cass indulged the thrill by watching from the safe warren of her husband’s arms.
Merely the visual of the two of them spiraled things into Cass’s lower body, a nice pleasurable echo that had her muscles clutching Lucas’s cock again. He responded by pressing in deeper and putting his mouth on her throat, nuzzling and kissing. His long, beautiful body moved under her hand as she slid her palm over his back, the curve of his buttock, her other holding onto Marcie.
Ben was lubing up his giant cock with a tight fist. He’d brought Marcie up on her knees and elbows, cheek to the bed. She seemed to still have the vibrator inside her, because when Ben guided himself into her rear entry, he bumped it up, increasing the subtle buzzing hum. Marcie’s mouth went wide, her facial muscles reacting to the stimulation. Ben didn’t slam into her the way Lucas had taken Cass, for obvious reasons, but Cass was nevertheless amazed to see inch after inch disappear, Marcie’s eyes closing and body shuddering. She undulated in a sinuous dance, her and Ben’s movements synchronized like a melded creature of fantasy as he completed the full lock, all the way in to the hilt. Then he dropped over Marcie’s body, covering her, impressive back and arm muscles rippling. Marcie’s free hand latched onto his thick wrist where it was braced next to her shoulder.
“Hold out for me a little longer,” Ben demanded, green eyes sharp and vivid as glass in sunlight. “Squeeze down on me and that vibrator. Make it last.”
Cass clutched Marcie’s hand, mesmerized as Ben braced himself on her hip and began to move. Lucas added to her voyeuristic response by curving his back enough to grip one of Cass’s breasts, tilt it up toward his mouth, and begin to suckle again. The slow thrust and retreat he’d been doing began to be a little more deliberate. He was hardening inside her again and her body responded with a starburst of sensation. When Cass’s gaze fluttered to him, startled, Lucas lifted his head to meet her eyes with heated silver ones of his own.
“You’re getting me worked up again, sweetheart,” he muttered. “Your blue eyes so big, mouth so soft, watching them fucking. Think I’m going to have to let you watch more often.”
She lifted her free hand to his face, and he sucked on her fingers when she traced his lips. I love you so much, she mouthed. Everything she was feeling was so close to the surface. The bed adjusted with Ben and Marcie’s movements beside them, as well as the slow rock of her and Lucas’s bodies together. Marcie made that pleading noise again, and her fingers clutched Cass’s. Cass noticed she had her mouth on Ben’s wrist, in addition to clasping it with her hand. That need, the intimacy, had its reciprocal response from her husband. Ben had slowed his thrusts so he could drop a kiss between her shoulder blades and on her nape, where her stainless steel collar had slipped forward with her hair, baring that vulnerable spot.
He said something Cass couldn’t hear, but Marcie tilted her head up to him and their mouths met in a deep kiss, with a hint of the tongues that tangled and stroked. Ben cradled her face so Marcie wouldn’t strain her neck. As they kissed, their lips curved in near smiles, as if whatever Ben had said and Marcie had answered had brought them a tender, shared moment of humor that didn’t dilute the intensity between them at all. If anything, it made Cass’s female heart pound a little harder, the evidence of how it could work together so perfectly, when love guided all of it. Passion, demand, need, tears, laughter.
She and Lucas had that, and now she was even more certain Marcie and Ben did.
Turning her attention back to her own husband, she found him waiting to cup her face and kiss her, just as deeply. Cass wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding on as he stroked inside her. “Never enough,” he whispered in her ear, his voice hoarse in
a way she treasured. “I’ll never get enough of you, Cassie.”
She moaned as his thrusts increased, as she started to rise toward release again.
It was a glorious, deep-water energy that filled the room, that surrounded all of them. Marcie’s hand in Cass’s, Marcie holding Ben’s wrist, Cass with one arm and both legs wrapped tightly around Lucas, his mouth against her ear. All the visual beauty of it: Marcie’s blond hair fanned out on the mattress between them, the lovely convex line of her back, Ben’s palm on the center of it. Ben looming over Marcie for those last hard thrusts, his green eyes glowing in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. His broad chest, covered with a light mat of gleaming dark hair, expanding and contracting with his breaths, his biceps flexing as he gripped Marcie’s hip with his other hand. His dark hair disheveled over his silken black brows, the tautness of his buttock as he pressed in deeper. Her sister overwhelmed by his demands, muffling her raw, pleasured screams into the mattress.
Then there was Cass’s own work of art, the one that belonged to her. Lucas’s silver gray eyes were the color of woodlands in winter, or those slender slivers of gray through an early sunrise sky. The planes of his face looked like a sculpture as he drew closer to bringing them to climax, the roll of his powerful shoulders and ripple of his stomach muscles against her soft skin all imprinting themselves on her mind in a way she’d take out later and relive again and again. That fine, mouth-watering backside, tight as a drum under her calves, the legs streamlined with cycling muscles rubbing against the inside of her thighs.
His strong, capable hands tightened on her ass, allowing him to plow her deeper. When he did that, all the erotic beauty in the world couldn’t take her focus from him. Ben and Marcie disappeared completely. Everything narrowed to his eyes, pinning her to this second in time with him. He demanded she surrender everything to him as he pushed them to the edge. He added to the thrill of it with his rough words.