Guarded

by L. A. Witt

  “Good thing I already got off earlier.” Max ran his fingers through Jordan’s hair. “Want to l-last... long enough to enjoy this.”

  I swallowed. Nothing like having the sub who could reduce another Dom to stuttering. Yes, I wanted to say to everyone in this room, he’s that good, and he’s mine.

  Max closed his eyes and tilted his head back, kneading Jordan’s scalp as he’d done to his sub. Jordan obediently and enthusiastically sucked the man’s dick as everyone watched. A quick glance around confirmed my suspicion that there wasn’t a cock in this room that wasn’t rock hard. A couple of the guys squirmed, adjusting the fronts of their pants. I had to do the same. Max’s sub knelt on the floor keeping his hands at his sides, but he shifted from side to side, probably doing the best he could to get comfortable without breaking the rules and touching himself. Poor bastard.

  Max exhaled. “You’ve got one hell of a tongue, boy.”

  Without stopping or breaking his stride, Jordan shifted a little. I just grinned.

  Renee put an arm around my waist and leaned in close. “He looks like he needs to be fucked.”

  Everyone in the room responded, if subtly. Max sucked in a breath. Jordan’s rhythm faltered for a second. Max’s sub squirmed, eyes still fixed on Jordan’s head bobbing over Max’s dick.

  And I broke out in goose bumps all the way down to my toes. Moistening my lips, I turned to her. “You want to do the honors?”

  Her breath hitched, and she nodded. “Oh, yes, I would.”

  I put an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Soon as he’s done with Max, he’s all yours.”

  “Excellent.” To the rest of the group, she said, “I need someone to get him ready for me, because his ass is mine.”

  This time Jordan lost his rhythm for a stroke or two, but he recovered. As he continued, Renee and Max exchanged a look. Then Max snapped his fingers at his sub, and pointed toward Jordan’s ass.

  The sub immediately scrambled to his feet. Getting Jordan’s belt undone proved a difficult task in that position, and it also didn’t help with his concentration.

  “Let him finish first,” Max ordered. The sub backed off. Touching Jordan’s hair, Max added, “You’d better finish, hadn’t you?”

  Jordan didn’t hesitate at all. He lifted himself up a little and gave Max all he had, deep-throating him and stroking him and doing God knew what with that talented mouth. Max closed his eyes, murmuring encouragement. His face flushed, and the chair squeaked as he tried to thrust into Jordan’s mouth.

  All at once, he sucked in a breath. His eyes flew open, his spine straightened, and he gripped Jordan’s hair so tight it had to hurt.

  Max slumped back against the chair, and Jordan stopped.

  “Sit up,” Max ordered, voice gruff and breathless at the same time. “Give him a hand.” He waved an unsteady hand at his sub.

  Jordan sat up on his knees, and between him and Max’s sub, they managed to get his silver leather pants below his hips.

  I turned to Renee. “How do you want him?”

  “Hands and knees.”

  Jordan looked at Renee, and his lips parted as he watched her rolling a condom onto her cock. Then his eyes flicked toward me.

  I gestured at the floor.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he didn’t protest. He turned himself a few degrees so he wasn’t in Max’s lap anymore, and got down on his hands and knees.

  “You.” Renee snapped her long-nailed fingers at Max’s sub. “Get him ready for me.”

  The sub knelt behind Jordan with a bottle of lube. I watched, holding my breath as the sub carefully prepped him for Renee, sliding in one finger, then two. Jordan barely moved or made a sound—I guessed he was so overstimulated now, it would take more than a couple of slender fingers to get a reaction out of him.

  I squatted in front of Jordan and tilted his head up. “You’re doing well.”

  He swept his tongue across his lips. “Thank you.”

  “What’s the safeword again?”

  He swallowed. “Violet.”

  “Good.” I kissed his forehead. Then I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Watching you blow him was amazing.”

  He shivered. “Th-thank you.”

  “And watching her fuck you?” I kissed his mouth lightly, breaking away just enough to add, “Do everything she tells you, and I’ll be the next one to fuck you.”

  Jordan whimpered against my lips.

  He gasped, and when I looked up, the sub had moved out of the way, and now Renee was behind Jordan. How she knelt in those thigh high boots, I had no idea, but apparently they, like everything else in this building, did as they were told.

  Our eyes met. I nodded, and she grinned.

  As Renee pressed against him, Jordan sucked in a breath. A shiver went through him, and for a second I wondered if he’d suddenly decided he couldn’t handle being fucked by a woman, but then he leaned back against her. She hitched forward a little, and they both gasped, and then she was moving, slowly but steadily, sliding deeper inside him as she went.

  I stroked his hair, and he rubbed against my hand like a cat. Renee fucked him faster. His moans thrummed against my fingertips, and goddammit, I was so tempted to shove my cock in his mouth just to do something about this maddening pressure. I wanted to fuck him. I wanted to watch him be fucked. I needed to come so bad it was getting painful.

  Renee was fucking him hard now, hips slapping against his ass, and he whimpered softly, eyes closed and arms shaking beneath him.

  “You’re still not allowed to come,” I whispered. “Understood?”

  He didn’t respond. He rocked back against Renee, meeting her thrust for thrust.

  “Jordan.” I pulled his head back and forced him to look at me.

  But before I could speak, Renee raked her long nails down his sides. Jordan’s eyes were suddenly huge, his lips apart though no sound came out. His whole body shook with the force of a violent shudder, and then his eyes closed as he moaned.

  Renee bit her lip. Slamming into him hard and fast, she scratched him again, dragging those talons across the stripes that were already darkening from his ribcage to his hips.

  “Oh God,” Jordan moaned, eyes still closed.

  I licked my lips. “Jordan.”

  His eyes fluttered open, and that blissed out, higher than a kite expression almost put me over the edge.

  I forced my voice to be level and even. “Don’t come. Understood?”

  “Y-yeah.” He screwed his eyes shut and groaned, shuddering again. “Oh God…”

  “Don’t come,” I said again. “Not until after I’ve fucked you.”

  That was just cruel, but I couldn’t help myself, and Renee and I exchanged sadistic grins as Jordan swore under his breath.

  “He’s so obedient,” Renee murmured, sliding her palms over the skin she’d just scratched. “And all those welts…” She trailed her fingertips lightly over them, making Jordan gasp and buck against her. “Ooh, he is a little pain slut, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is,” I breathed.

  Jordan lifted his head, forcing his eyes open and meeting mine.

  I cupped his chin and whispered, “Just a beautiful, compliant little pain slut.”

  A smile flicked across his lips, but then he groaned again and lowered his head.

  Renee groaned too, and she fucked him harder, hard enough to make even me wince, before she swore under her breath and forced herself inside him so hard she knocked him forward. He caught himself on a shaking arm, and I put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, and I felt her last few thrusts reverberating through him as she came.

  And then they were both still. Shaking, yes, but she stopped thrusting and he didn’t move.

  I kissed the top of his head. “I’m just stepping away to get a condom. I’m not going anywhere.” He responded with the ghost of a nod. Probably the best he could muster in his current state.

  As I stood, one of the subs tossed me a condom from the bowl o
n the table. “Thank you.”

  I didn’t bother stripping down completely. Once Renee had pulled out and moved aside, I knelt behind Jordan and pushed my jeans down just far enough to be out of the way.

  I could only imagine how overstimulated he was, how far gone he was after being beaten and fucked and ordered around, but when I tore the condom wrapper, a shudder went up his spine. I touched his hip. “You okay?”

  He nodded, a few strands of sweaty hair tumbling down alongside his face.

  “I asked you a question.”

  He took in a breath and looked over his shoulder. Brushing the stringy hair out of his face, he said, “I’m good.”

  I grinned. So did he.

  I finished putting the condom on, added some lube, and damn near lost it just taking that first stroke inside him. I could’ve thrust hard, taken him in one deep, hard thrust, but then I would’ve come and this would’ve been over.

  The others were still watching, every gaze in the room glued to Jordan’s sweaty, trembling, beaten body. Before long, there’d be another sub getting all the pain and attention, but for now, it was Jordan who had everyone hard and hypnotized.

  The thrill of fucking Jordan in front of all of them turned me on beyond words. It didn’t matter that he was Jordan Kane, that half the people in this room knew he was a rock star. He was Jordan, the deliciously compliant sub who loved pain, whose body and passion mesmerized everyone watching him, and he was mine. Every one of them could take a shot at whipping him, biting him, fucking him, putting him on his knees, but none of that mattered, because at the end of the night, the collar around his neck belonged to me.

  And just to drive the point home, I slapped his ass. Hard. My palm stung, and there’d be a handprint on that gorgeous ass of his for hours no doubt. He made a soft, delirious sound and dropped onto his forearms. He clawed at the floor, no doubt searching for something to grab onto.

  I grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He clenched around me, but it was the helpless moan that did me in. Whatever I’d been about to say, whatever growled command I was going to give him, vanished, and I gripped his hair tighter, twisting my fist enough to make him gasp. I fucked him hard, as hard as I could, and this time I was the one to cry out. My rhythm went to hell, my eyes rolled back, and everything went white.

  I let go of his hair. My spine turned to liquid, and I collapsed over him, holding myself up just enough to keep my skin off his welt-covered back.

  Jordan’s head fell forward again. He was breathing hard and trembling, and he sighed when I wrapped a shaking hand around him.

  “Well done, Jordan,” I panted in his ear, my lips just inches from the darkening bite mark from earlier. “Well done.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jordan

  I woke up with a freight train rolling through my head and my back on fire. Tried to roll over, but didn’t quite make it. Jase’s hand landed on my shoulder, right above—but not on, thank God—a raw, painful patch of skin, then skimmed gently down my arm. “Take it easy,” he whispered, “I’m gonna go grab something.”

  He rummaged in his bag, then came right back, the edge of the bed dipping down. “This ointment should help take the soreness out of those welts.”

  No idea what was in the stuff, but it smelled good—rose and lavender and a bunch of other herbal scents I didn’t recognize. The touch of Jase’s callused hands made me grit my teeth at first, but soon the salve soaked in, soothing my abraded skin. I shut my eyes and let myself drift. “How’s that feel?” Jase murmured.

  “Mm,” was the only sound I was capable of uttering.

  Jase chuckled. “You were doing that a lot last night too.”

  God, last night...

  Which was still kind of a hazy jumble. I remembered Jase locking his collar on me—I reached up to see if it was still there, my heart sinking when I touched only bare skin. I remembered Jase’s whip, every blow engraving its mark on me. I remembered a hand on the back of my head, the weight of a cock on my tongue. Sharp nails raking down my back—

  Right where Jase was rubbing in more ointment. Ouch. Groaning, I pushed myself up on my forearms. “Th-that’s good, thanks.”

  Jase smoothed the hair back from my face, gazing at me intently. “Your eyes are still a little dilated.”

  “Is that, uh…” Took me a second to find the right words. Jesus, what was up with my brain? “Good or bad?”

  “It means you dropped deep into subspace last night.” He kissed me on the forehead, then on the lips. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yeah. What I can remember of it, anyway.” I chuckled, then grimaced when I tried swinging my legs over the side of the bed, every muscle in my body screaming at the same fucking second.

  “I’m right here.” Jase’s hand at my elbow helped balance me enough to get me on my feet, and his arm around my waist got me to the bathroom. I staggered in, took a piss and grabbed my robe off the back of the door, though Jase had to help me on with it.

  The bright, bright sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows stung my eyes, forcing another groan out of me. Jase lowered me carefully into a chair and went to adjust the blinds. “Want some coffee?”

  “God, yes.” I rubbed my eyes, yawning. What time was it? I reached for my phone, flicking it on. Almost noon. There were a bunch of new voice mails, all from Martin. Might as well listen to them now and get it over with.

  “Jordan, we need to talk,” Martin’s nasal voice crackled over the line. “We’re losing money every day the band’s not out on the road. Will you consider letting Marcel take over for Daniel for a few dates, just until Daniel’s well enough to join you? If we get back in gear within the next week or so, we can still make Rock Am Ring and—”

  Fuck you. I hit delete and tossed my phone on the table. Rested my forehead on my arms. What was wrong with me? I hadn’t been this blitzed on a morning after since that time I got hammered on cocaine and silver Patrón.

  Jase, God fucking bless him, took pity on my suffering and brought me steaming hot French roast. He was even kind enough not to say a word until after I’d downed my first gulp. “How is it?”

  “Nirvana in a cup.” I knocked back another mouthful. “Thank you.”

  “I meant your head. Here.” He handed me the bottle of Tylenol I kept on the shelf above the coffeemaker. “Unless you need me to go get your meds?”

  “Nah, this is fine.” I shook out three pills and chased them down. “Thanks.”

  He fiddled with the handle of his mug. “I think we might’ve gone a little overboard last night. Sorry.”

  “Why? I’m not.”

  “Because I’m the Dom. It’s my job to make sure I don’t push you any further than—”

  “So I’ve got a headache—the regular kind, not a migraine—so what? It’ll go away.” I reached for his hand. His rough, strong, beautiful hand that’d taken control of me so fucking masterfully. “And you didn’t push me into anything. I’ve got a safeword, remember?”

  “Jordan, you were so far gone last night, you wouldn’t have safeworded no matter what I did. I could tell you were flying the second I took you off the web—”

  “Is that what they call it?” I whispered. “Flying?”

  He wet his lips. Stared down into his mug. “When we were playing, how long did it feel to you?”

  Weird question, but... “Um, ten, fifteen minutes, maybe.”

  “I had you up on those ropes for forty-five minutes, and after... all told, it was close to an hour and a half.” He shrugged. “That’s what happens in subspace. Time just... stops.”

  “Renee called it the forever place.”

  “And that’s exactly how it feels. Like whatever you’re doing is just gonna keep going ‘til the end of time.” His lips curved up in a dreamy smile. “That’s what I used to love about it.”

  “I can imagine.” The fog behind my eyes was starting to lift, but every other part of me felt like it’d turned to granite. I shifted in my c
hair, wincing at the deep ache in my ass, grateful I didn’t have the energy to stand. Somehow my phone found its way back into my hand. I started deleting the rest of Martin’s messages.

  Jase’s forehead crinkled. “Did all those calls come in last night?”

  “Martin’s pressuring me to take the band back out on the road. Substitute another musician until Daniel’s ready to join us.” I sighed, resting my aching head on my arms again. “Between him and the fucking record company, I want to run and hide every time my phone rings.”

  “You really want to?”

  I glanced up at him. “What d’you mean?”

  “What if you had someplace you could go chill for a few days? No phones, no TV, no internet. No distractions.”

  “Sounds great. Where is it, the Arctic circle?”

  Smiling, he leaned in to kiss me, the tip of his tongue lingering between my lips for a long moment before we broke. “Pack a bag. I’m taking you to my place.”

  * * *

  Jase’s apartment reminded me of the one Daniel and I shared when we first came to LA, only cleaner, sunnier and in a much better neighborhood. I followed Jase to the front door, handing my bag to him once we were safely inside. “Strip,” he said.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “When we’re here, I want you naked.” He gestured at my clothes. “Off. Now.”

  Felt weird, getting undressed in his kitchen, even if it didn’t take long. Sandals and jeans first, then my shirt, teeth gritted as it peeled off my sore, achy back. Jase helped me off with it, then pointed me toward the bedroom.

  The bed. The walk-in closet. The scent of leather... suddenly I wasn’t so steady on my feet. Jase caught me by the arm and lowered me to the carpet. I rolled to my knees and waited.

  He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the bed before sinking down beside me. He cupped my face, ran his fingers through my hair. “I want you to relax while you’re here. No stress, no decisions. Which means—”