She was just getting her heart out of her throat and trying to sneak a look up at Ursa when a dark figure blocked her view. Suddenly her space under the table was filled with the massive shape of…the nearly black-skinned archer, Leo.
He’d changed from the night before—only the mask remained the same. His broad chest was crisscrossed with white patent leather straps and a large central oval in polished silver and gold sported an owl in flight in the center. It was beautiful. Instead of the arming skirt, he wore nothing except a cage around his massive cock. Wool and fur boots extended up to his knees and there were small silvery bells and glinting opals on various surfaces, gleaming and jingling as he adjusted his powerful frame under the table.
From behind his mask, his black eyes pinned her with a decidedly furious look and he bared his teeth at her and leaned hard into the long white-velvet dress beside him.
“Oh, careful!” Ursa laughed and her hand drifted down, cupping his cheek. He hesitated a moment, glaring at Vans before pointedly leaning his cheek into the hand. “Let me sit first.” Some adjustments were made and then the woman’s legs stretched out under the table. Archer’s hands smoothed over the skin exposed from the plush layers of velvet. “You don’t mind if we join you? I think the gem girls will be around and I’ll go if you—”
“No, this is perfect, actually,” Dragon answered, sounding fucking amused. Asshole!
Vans huddled tighter against Dragon’s legs, wanting to be anywhere else but there.
In what world did this powerful, handsome man sit on a floor by Ursa’s feet like some dog? Why would he do that? Bow to Ursa? What the actual fuck?
But Archer was no longer under the table with her. He drew up onto his knees gracefully at some unseen coaxing and she was left without a clue as to what was going on.
“I saw Leopard—Kitten—come by. Everything all right?” Ursa asked.
She didn’t stammer. She sounded so confident and self-assured. It hardly sounded Ursa-like at all.
“Ah, the ghost of pony-play past. The pony I sponsored at the last event pulled her over.”
“Hummingbird?”
Sir Dragon growled in agreement.
“Guess she wasn’t your thing?”
“I did say she pulled Kitten over, right? It’s bullshit. Topping from the bottom. It’s not my cup’a.”
“Mmmm. Me neither.” A pause, then the sound of water being poured into glasses. “So, who’s your ghost of pony-play present?” Ursa asked with a most un-Ursa-like teasing tone in her voice.
Fuck.
“Well, funny story behind this one. Brat?” He didn’t prompt her to come out from hiding with a touch. He simply used his voice to summon her. She cowered and pressed her cheek into his knee. She really didn’t want to do this right now. “She’s not normally so shy. This is actually amazing.”
Vans scowled, resisted the urge to bite his thigh and fixed her mask, as though her friend would be fooled, and carefully extracted herself from beneath the tablecloth and rose onto her knees.
The woman who sat primly across from Sir Dragon held herself with a confident ease, leaning back into her chair, toying with a glass of champagne as though she were considering its worth. Her other hand rested in her lap where the Archer’s head must be nestled. The mask was an elaborate confection of white feathers and artfully crafted porcelain. She was a snow owl with opal-jeweled eyes, ready to pounce. Her hair fell in glossy golden-brown layers over her shoulders and the velvet dress she wore. The plunging neckline displayed her cleavage to full advantage and the golden key dangled within the valley of her pale breasts.
She didn’t recognize Vans right away as her full lips curved into a kind, generous smile. “Well, hello there, brat of Dragon.”
“This is Owl,” Sir Dragon said mildly. “Mistress of Archer. This is Faery, though she is only bratty ass at the moment.” He affectionately wrapped a supporting arm around Vans, stroking her hip. “Say hello, precious.”
“H-hi,” Vans stammered and gritted her teeth, eyes rolling skyward. Fuckity fuck!
Behind the mask, Owl’s eyes widened and she put a hand to her mouth. Archer peeked over Ursa’s lap, and his dark and piercing eyes looked between Dragon and Vans.
“You might know each other,” Dragon said, tsking quietly through his teeth in the silence that followed.
“The Faery?” Owl spoke from between her fingers, staring at her hard in disbelief. “The one who stopped Bee from—” She couldn’t seem to bring herself to put the rest to words so Vans nodded her head.
“Ah,” Dragon murmured. “Last night was quite full. All of yesterday for that matter.” He didn’t sound pleased, as though he were considering the part Vans had played in it. His hold against her lightened and she found herself leaning against him for support.
“I am…s-so very sorry a-about—”
“About lying to me?” Owl asked. Her voice was quiet and hard. Vans thought Dragon’s voice made her quiver, but this anger made every hair on her body prickle up. Holy mother.
“Y-yes. About everything. P-please! I was fucking stupid.”
“About trying to convince me to break up with Leo? About thinking you’re better than me?” Her voice only got quieter as she asked the questions.
Archer wasn’t unaffected by her tone either. He curled against Owl and nuzzled his cheek against the curve of her breast. All right, so this was a side of her friend that Vans had never seen. She never would have expected. Her voice wanted to quaver into little pieces.
“I think there were a lot of horrible things said and done,” Dragon interrupted when Vans tried several times to stammer out additional apologies.
Owl focused her anger on him, looking him up and down as though seeing him in a new light. “You actually want to dirty your hands in that?” she asked, biting out each word, speaking so quietly that they were nearly a whisper.
Dragon tipped his head to one side. “She didn’t lie to me.”
“Yet,” Owl spat quietly. “You have no idea what that manipulative bitch is capable of.”
“Easy, Owl,” Dragon soothed, holding up his hands, showing her his palms. “She did some shitty things. I know she’s sorry for them. You two are friends. Don’t you—”
“We were friends until she insulted me in the worst possible way. The first moment in my life when things are going good and she wanted nothing so much as to take it from me.” She turned to Vans, hazel eyes burning hot.
Vans quavered and let out a soft moan. She should not find this so hot. She should definitely meet fire with fire and yell at her and tell her how she felt. But right now, all she felt was the horrible truth of it.
“Fuck,” she whimpered and tried to meet those powerful, furious eyes. “I was jealous. I w-was wrong. I’m s-sorry. I won’t ever do it again.”
The submission gave Owl pause and she slowly eased back into her seat as though weighing the words and their worth. At last she slid her attention to Dragon and shrugged. “Good luck to you,” she said quietly and lowered her hand to her lap, where Archer laid his head.
“I was hoping that we might all start over again. Because this is all a huge power shift, right? I think we all deserve a second chance,” Dragon said.
Owl held her emotions in check this time, though her eyes rolled behind the mask. “What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I can’t guarantee anything because the brat is a little shit, but I don’t think it’s in her interest in get in the way of either of you now. She had no idea what kinks your pony is into, you see.” He sounded so fucking smug as he raked his fingers into Vans’s hair. She glanced at him to find the familiar shit-eating grin had brought out the dimples in his cheeks.
“Oh? Really?” Owl asked and Archer peeked up from Ursa’s lap again to regard Vans.
“Mmmm,” Dragon purred. “Tell them, precious. What do you like?”
He didn’t tighten his fingers in her hair but she longed for it. She tipped her head forward until she
felt the pressure of his grip against her scalp. “I l-like to be hurt,” she whispered.
“That’s right. Come out from under the table and let our friends see you. Come along now.” Dragon scraped back his chair, suddenly exposing her as he pulled her with him from beneath the table.
There was no way to hide the welts on her backside, or the horrible, plain straps and the ratty-looking pony’s tail shoved up her ass. This was horrible! She felt the shame burn through her but she made fists of her hands, refusing to cover herself.
Owl leaned over to peer at her as Dragon forced Vans to crawl in a circle to show them all sides of her body. At long last, the wretched, wonderful and delicious attention slid off her as both the woman and her pony settled back into their seats.
Dragon pulled Vans closer and drew her up, cuddling her into his lap unexpectedly. “That was very difficult for you. You were very good,” he whispered and kissed her softly.
She wanted to cry with relief as she kissed him back. The praise after the display nearly overwhelmed her. He didn’t allow the kiss to deepen. It remained chaste and too short and when it ended, he brushed a finger along her lips, meeting her gaze with an expression of affection.
Across the table though, Owl and Archer were kissing in such a passionate tangle that Vans wasn’t quite sure they weren’t going to slide to the floor and have at it right there.
Dragon winked at Vans and cleared his throat. “Well. See something you like?” he asked.
The pair didn’t come up for air right away. Owl broke the kiss only after biting hard on the man’s plush lower lip until he whimpered his submission. She held a fist full of his hair, preventing him from melting into her.
“I think I’m going to need to learn how to apply welts like that,” Owl answered and Archer’s hips arched forward. The bells attached to his caged cock sang with the force of the movement. He wasn’t even allowed the comfort of grinding against her with the metal in the way.
“You two are horribly cute. Can we agree to put this behind us, have breakfast and then retire to the stables for some sport?”
With care, Owl released the man’s dark curls and let him snuggle in against her side, wrapping his strong arms around her. She acted as though this was all quite normal, and reached for a napkin to lightly dab at her lips with a smirk to Dragon. “Fine. I will try to find forgiveness.”
Archer’s dark eyes opened and although he didn’t turn his cheek away from the pillow of Owl’s soft breasts, he inclined his head just slightly.
They ate breakfast as though they had been doing it for years. Sir and Mistress eating as humans while pony-boy and brat ate as beasts by their feet. Vans didn’t want to admit how much she liked it. The little nudges from Sir, his rumbling voice at the table while she was reduced to something small and inhuman. Strangest of all was Archer, huge and imposing, so mild, his eyelids heavy with pleasure as Owl’s little heel pressed into the nape of his neck, pushing him toward his plate.
Vans kept waiting to hear the safe word, but he didn’t speak once. How long had those two been living this life? How could Ursa turn it off and on? Why hadn’t Ursa said anything? She thought of the rich bitch… What was her name? Vans couldn’t remember but knew Ursa and Archer’s relationship had to do with her.
She cuddled into Sir Dragon, letting her eyelids close. It wouldn’t last forever. She would have to go back to the real world soon and she wasn’t sure how she would turn this off at the door. For now, she would just need to enjoy it while she could.
At the end of the meal, House Mistress made an announcement about what had happened the night before. She glossed over who was involved, but that something horrible happened. It could end the way the parties were run and the guest lists would be cut greatly. People who were bending the rules would be told to leave and not be invited back. House Mistress sounded furious.
Vans wondered if this would be her one and only invitation to the house. She had played a small part in the trouble involving Bee and even in her invitation it said she had not been screened very carefully. Her heart ached at the thought of giving this up. But how could she really miss it if she wasn’t attached? Surely her Sir would see her at the bookstore.
That wouldn’t be the same though.
Would it?
Chapter Five
The Race
Sir Dragon was quiet and subdued the whole time he helped her change into her regular harness. The real harness and the one made for her and her alone. It wasn’t until he kissed her shoulder and whispered what a good girl she was and how proud he was that she realized that he was focused on the race ahead.
The weight of the realization hit her. She would, somehow, be a reflection on him. Like Hummingbird was a reflection of Kitten. That was what he meant. She leaned into his touches and tried to convey without words that she understood and she wouldn’t do something with her smart mouth to get herself in trouble and shame him.
He pulled her tightly to him and kissed her, his mouth hard on hers, his tongue darting forward to greet her as she extended hers toward him, longing for the taste of him after the chaste control he had earlier. His growl answered her whimper and he pulled her in tight against him, lifting her off her feet.
“I haven’t participated in a race since high school,” she said, not bothering to hide her uncertainty.
With that wretchedly smug smile, her Sir Dragon held her gaze, one arm curving around her. His other hand skillfully replaced the battered-looking tail with a glorious flaxen one. “I don’t care what happens today. You’ve already made me so proud, sweetheart.”
She arched against him, loving how he held her and stroked her just enough to stir her fire without demanding anything else. He pressed the plug deeper into her ass and whispered into her ear, “Someday, I’d like to hear you beg me to take this little hole. Someday, I might even accept that begging and give you what you want.” He nipped her ear, breath warm on her neck and throat as he growled. Then he adjusted the leather strapping of her head stall. He left the bit aside but fanned the plumes of feathers on her head like an arrangement of flowers at a wedding. At last he leaned back and motioned for her to turn around. Then, sure all was perfect for him, he attached the thin golden chain to her collar and led her out to the stables.
This time she didn’t have to crawl. She walked just slightly behind him, her hands clasped behind the small of her back to push her breasts forward, proudly displaying the gold and jeweled clips attached to her aching, hard nipples. It was easy to follow the movement of the others, lifting her knees high as she went, making her breasts bounce with every step, and she basked in the attention everyone lavished upon her.
They walked through the crowded stables and Dragon gave her back her lead and a glass of wine before kissing her cheek. “Don’t go far,” he whispered and his bright eyes gleamed before he released her to explore on her own.
The stables were a wonder of sexual pleasure and equestrian delights. While Dragon visited with his friends, Vans found herself at liberty to wander the empty stalls. She felt whisked back to an earlier time. How desperately she missed her time at the stables when she’d done pony club and polo and the jumpers. God, it felt like such a long time ago. Why hadn’t the longing gone away?
Her skin prickled and she glanced over her shoulder to catch someone watching her. Dragon stood with a glass of wine in hand but his brilliant azure gaze settled on her and his mouth curved into the most sensual little smile. He might be talking to those gathered around him, but he kept her in his line of sight. She liked that. With a little up-tip of her chin, she posed for him but turned her face away, admiring the tack hanging on the wall, and some old racing silks from horse and jockey. It all looked recently dusted. Horses had not used this space for a very long time. She could smell the distant equine sweat but mostly the place smelled of saddle soap, leather and fresh hay that lined the stalls for decoration.
“You were an equestrian?” A woman’s voice intruded on her thou
ghts and House Mistress herself wandered down the aisle toward her. The woman was wearing a long mink coat over her dress of bronze velvet that matched the iron-and-rust coloring of the filigree mask hiding her features. Vans was sure this was the woman who had visited the bookstore on many occasions. The rich bitch. The same woman who allowed her to join the festivities. Vans felt heat rise in her cheeks as she ducked her head.
“Yes, ma’am,” she answered, not lifting her eyes. Not sure if she should sink to her knees in respect or remain standing, so she only bowed her head forward.
“Would you still ride if you could?” she asked.
Vans wanted to laugh aloud but said, “Does a bird want to fly?” She didn’t manage to keep the bitter amusement from her tone. The woman heard it and Vans let out a hiss of breath. “No offense. I don’t think equestrian sports are in my future. Unless it’s this.” She motioned to her costume and sipped her wine.
The woman was looking at the silks on the wall. “How good were you as a rider?”
Vans frowned down into her glass of wine, saying, “I haven’t ridden in a long time. I used to be pretty good but it’s been years.”
House Mistress smiled and moved past her with a twinkle in her indigo eyes. “Never give up on your dreams. You never know what the future holds.” She saluted with her glass. “Good luck with the race today.” With that, she slipped out and into the snow, pulling the hood of her thick fur coat over her head. Outside, flakes were falling harder, the landscape blurred and misty with the haze of cold and the heavier swirl of white coming down.
Vans walked to the door leading outside and peered out, feeling her lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. She didn’t dare wish for more than she’d already received. Forgiveness from a friend and a lover. She pressed her hand against the center of her chest as she watched a group of patrons lead their ponies out into the snow. Where was her patron? Her heart hitched against her ribs eagerly as she looked around for him. He had been right there a moment ago. He must be out a little farther and the heavy snowfall was making it hard to see.
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