I drew on that strength, sharing every sensation I felt, as though I could send it coursing into him through my pleasure-drugged gaze. He never looked away.
“Oh!” I cried out, a hand sinking into my hair to push it back from my face. My fingers tightened on the strands at the roots, as the rest of my body tightened. The pulsing pressure building in my groin burst, and I moaned loudly, still staring deeply into Neil’s eyes.
Emir didn’t give me a chance to come down. He slapped my ass and pushed me off him. Moving so fast he disoriented me, he hauled me up on my hands and knees to slide his cock in deep. If lightning had struck me, I wouldn’t have felt so electrified. I arched my back and ground against him, my hands clawing the duvet beneath them.
“Let him know how good it feels,” Emir panted as he withdrew and thrust into me again, his hips slapping against my ass. “Tell him.”
“It feels so good,” I moaned, staring straight into Neil’s eyes. “Oh god, his cock feels so good.”
“Tell him how much you want it.” Emir’s fingers dug into my hips and pulled me back.
“I don’t ever want him to stop fucking me.” An antagonistic smile slanted my mouth. “I want him to come inside me.”
Behind me, Emir groaned. “Leif? Should I?”
“Let me think.” Neil considered. “Chloe? Are you going to come again?”
“Yes,” I ground out reluctantly. Because when he asked that, it could only mean one thing.
He was going to deny me.
“When she’s close, pull out,” he said with a sadistic smile.
“I should help her along, yes?” Emir asked, slipping his hand beneath me to play with my clit. I bucked and tried to get away from his hand. The longer I kept myself from coming, the longer I could have him inside me. Which was really a cruel choice, because I wanted both at the same time.
I tried to relax, to keep Emir from feeling my impending orgasm in the telltale flutters of my cunt, but it was involuntary. As I ascended to my peak, he pulled out.
Neil was there in an instant, grabbing me around the waist and hauling me up to his chest. He dragged me from the bed and bent me over the round, padded end of the recamier.
“Stay there,” he growled. “If you move, you won’t come again tonight.”
My body ached for the climax he’d denied me, so even though the odd posture made my legs tremble with fatigue, I didn’t dare move.
“You’re so obedient,” Emir said with a chuckle. “Good girl.”
He wasn’t my Sir, so I felt totally justified in sticking my tongue out at him.
“Does that count as moving?” Emir asked with a laugh.
I heard the doors of the toy cabinet open, and the unmistakable clanking of shackles. “Hmm?” Neil asked, and I was grateful he hadn’t seen my transgression.
“It was nothing,” Emir told him, then, with a nod, said, “Oh, yes, the large one.”
The large what?
Neil stepped up behind me and toed my feet apart. “Spread.” He slapped my ass, so there was no misunderstanding what he meant.
I reached behind me, my face burning at the thought of Emir seeing me like this. I could object and stop the entire thing, but there was no way I would. I wanted to see how far I would go.
It was always about seeing how far I could go, or how far I could make Neil go.
I pulled my cheeks apart, and Neil spit a glob of saliva onto my asshole. That was all I got before the cold point of a glass butt plug pushed into me. It was the big one, I realized with a sob of pain.
“Say thank you,” he ordered.
“Thank you, Sir,” I whimpered through clenched teeth as the full width stretched me before my opening snugged up around the narrow neck of the plug. This wasn’t preparation, by any means; it was a tease of the pain I would feel later.
He unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it from his shoulders, tossing it to the floor. “You can kneel on that.”
I did as he told me, and he picked up a pair of shackles from the end of the bed. He restrained my hands behind my back. “This way you can’t touch yourself while I’m sucking his cock.”
Damn it! I loved watching Neil suck Emir’s cock. Of course I would want to touch myself while watching that. My thighs flexed against each other.
“On the bed, or right there, in front of her?” Emir asked, lifting one eyebrow.
“If you give me that pillow,” Neil said with a rueful laugh. “And promise to offer me a hand up. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Thank god for that. I wasn’t sure if I could have handled Neil in his prime.
Emir tossed a pillow on the floor, so close that I would be able to feel the heat from their bodies.
“I think you enjoyed making me jealous,” Neil scolded. “Now aren’t you sorry?”
He knelt in front of Emir and gripped the other man’s cock in his fist, pumping up and down the length. A shiver skated down my spine.
Growing up in a torturously isolated Midwestern town, I’d never had a lot of exposure to man-on-man sex. My friend Jess and I had looked it up on the internet one time, and quickly slammed her laptop shut in a fit of giggles. Before I’d gotten together with Neil, watching my husband go down on another guy had never figured into my sexual fantasies.
Then again, a lot of stuff hadn’t figured into my sexual fantasies before Neil.
You also didn’t get to live any of those sexual fantasies out, I reminded myself as I watched my Sir slide his open mouth along the underside of Emir’s cock. Before I’d met Neil, I hadn’t even been into sex all that much. Then, I’d met him at a gate at LAX, and now, nine years later, I was on my knees, cuffed and plugged, watching him suck another man’s cock.
Life was funny, sometimes.
While my oral technique involved a lot of teasing, Neil was more of a straight-to-the-point guy when it came to sucking dick. I almost felt threatened by how enthusiastic Emir’s responses were, until I remembered that having a penis probably made a person much more knowledgeable about how to touch one. My greedy gaze was torn between the expressions contorting Emir’s face into a shifting tableau of pleasure, to Neil, somehow smug even with a cock in his mouth.
The fingers of one of Neil’s hands dug into the tight flesh of Emir’s ass, and I whimpered at the sight. Both of them chuckled at that.
“What’s the matter, Chloe?” Emir asked breathlessly. “Feeling left out?”
I nodded and licked my lips.
“Do you suppose that’s part of your punishment?” he asked, nodding down at Neil.
My Sir released Emir’s cock with a wet pop. “I’d quite like to give her the rest of her punishment.”
“I’d quite like to come in your mouth, but I suppose I have to wait?” Emir teased him.
I didn’t giggle, even though I wanted to. I would be breaking my role. But I loved the look on Neil’s face, the small, shocked smile he gave Emir and the warm affection behind it.
Maybe it should have threatened me, knowing that my husband had feelings for Emir. But I’d learned a lot about love since Neil had come into my life, and the most important so far had been that feelings weren’t finite; he could love me and Emir, at the same time but differently.
“While I would love to swallow every drop,” Neil replied, pausing to run his tongue around the swollen red head of Emir’s penis, “Perhaps we should move on. I’m sure Chloe is dying to know what her punishment is.”
Dying to know, and dreading it all the same. My Sir stood and grabbed me with one hand in my hair, the other around my shackled wrists. I had no choice but to stagger to my feet or get dragged.
The large bondage frame in the center room awaited, and delicious panic curled up though me. Once they restrained me there, I would be helpless.
Emir helped me step onto the small footrests that would prevent my upper body from being burdened with too much weight. Suspension was fun, but I drew the line at actual crucifixion. Neil hooked my shackled wrists to the center of
the bar over my head and fixed my ankles to the sides of the frame.
“Nothing too tight? No muscle strain?” he asked, checking my arms, once again.
“No, Sir,” I answered.
“When your arms get tired, tell me,” he instructed. He could make even safety considerations sound like a threat, threading them seamlessly into our play. I was never in real danger, but he was so good at making it seem like I might be.
“Emir, I believe you have a surprise for Chloe?” Neil said, and I took the humor in his voice as a warning.
“I will go and get that,” Emir said, and he padded off to the comfort room, his bare feet slapping the floor.
Our canes were stored just steps away, hanging vertically on two ornate racks. They all differed in material, finish, and diameter. Some were shorter and had curled ends, like a handle Neil could hold so he could really give me a hard over-the-knee spanking. He walked slowly to the racks and let his fingers linger on the heaviest of the canes, the one I was actually quite afraid of. When he lifted his hand to select the thinnest we had, I sucked in a breath. I was both relieved and apprehensive; I was glad he hadn’t gone with the first one, but the thin rattan stung like a bastard. He chose the straight cane. He could grip that with two hands.
He stepped up to me and gently flicked the tip of the cane between my breasts. He would never actually strike me there with the implement. He drew the cane slowly down my body, anticipation running ahead of it, waking my skin and exciting every nerve.
“Are you ready, Sophie?” he asked, now that we were alone.
I bucked against my bonds as the end of the cane came nearer and nearer to my vulva. “Yes, Sir.”
He let the polished end of the rattan slip between my labia, over my clit, and I whimpered.
“Playing without me?” Emir called, and I jerked my head up. He carried something in his hands. I squinted as I tried to make it out. He held it up with a smirk.
It was a long chunk of…ginger. Those sons of…
“I thought you might like to try,” Sir said. He walked behind me and ran his hands down my sides, curving under to cup my buttocks. He parted my cheeks and slowly withdrew the plug. My face went hot with shame. I didn’t know why I still felt like butt stuff was dirty beyond anything else we did, but at least that hang-up made it more hot for me.
“Do you know what this is for, Chloe?” Emir asked, coming so close I could smell the spice of the root, which shined wetly.
I nodded, my mouth suddenly dry in fear and anticipation. Neil and I had talked about this particular act, but never actually done it. It had been one of those “maybe sometime” things that neither of us had been so interested in that we’d absolutely had to do it. I’d never explicitly ruled it out.
“And is this…green?” Emir smirked as I nodded. He leaned forward and brushed his lips across my cheek, whispering, “This will burn.”
It was a good thing the frame could bear my weight, because my knees went weak.
Emir moved behind me, continuing, “There’s a notch in it, so it won’t slip too far inside.” The peeled root touched my skin. He pushed the tip between my cheeks, found my hole and, without any further preparation, shoved it in. Though the plug had already loosened me up, the ginger wasn’t lubed—that would have defeated its ultimate purpose—and the sudden force made me shout.
“There,” he said, satisfied with his work. “Leif? I believe you were about to give me a lesson?”
“One moment,” Neil said, as though he’d just remembered something. I saw the black satin only just before the sash covered my eyes. He was so practiced at tying the knot he didn’t even get my hair caught in it. “You can gag your sub, as well, but how are you going to learn if you can’t get their feedback?”
Was Emir going to cane me? We hadn’t discussed that, and, like the slapping, I wasn’t sure I was okay with it. But, as always, Sir seemed capable of reading my mind.
“I’ll be the only one delivering the strokes, Chloe,” he said, briefly dropping the sadistic tone. “Emir truly is learning tonight. You’ll receive eight. How would you like them?”
“Hard.” I gritted my teeth around the word—both from fear of what would come and the ginger that had subtly begun to sting me inside. I knew how hard Neil could hit, and the cane was serious business. In a scene, my mouth almost always wrote checks my butt couldn’t cash.
My literal butt.
“All right,” he agreed.
I heard the swoosh of the cane through the air, and my body tensed, a cry of distress choking me. The blow never came, and Emir chuckled. The ginger burned hotter now that I’d clenched on it.
“Anticipation is key in all spankings, as I’m sure you already know. But the cane—” Another swish interrupted Neil’s words, and my belly tightened, though I knew I was only making the ginger predicament worse. “—makes such an evil sound. Just listen.”
This time, the noise of the rattan slicing through the air didn’t startle me, and that was a mistake. The blow landed across my buttocks. I wasn’t ready for it, and I yelped in surprise. A hard strike from a cane feels like someone cutting you with a knife; Neil usually broke the skin when I specified “hard”. What might split my skin the width of a paper cut felt like a sword slicing through muscle and bone.
The ginger in my ass really burned now, intensified by the way I’d clenched in the aftermath of the strike. It melded with the lingering pain of the stripe across my cheeks, and tears rose to my eyes.
“Now there,” Sir said, and I hissed at the touch of his finger against the blazing welt. “You’re going to want most of your strikes to land in this area. Never above, and never on the back.”
Another cutting blow slapped me just below the other welt, close enough to refresh the pain of the first. I shouted again. Sweat stood out on my skin. Without the shackles holding me up, I would have fallen over.
“I would suggest that, the first few times you try this, you have your sub bent over. It will help prevent a misplaced strike,” Sir went on. The calm, measured way he gave instructions made my whole body tingle. I was just an object, a tool being used by them.
“If your sub isn’t gagged, you can ask them to request the next stroke.” Sir gave me a light tap with the cane. “Chloe. Ask me for the next one.”
I whimpered. A trickle of sweat leaked down my face from my hair. I wanted the pain. I needed it to get me to that floaty, distant headspace I craved. But I couldn’t pull the trigger, so to speak.
Neil walked slowly around me. I listened to every whisper of his footsteps on the marble floor. He stood close; I could almost feel his heartbeat in the disruption of the air between us. Every one of my cells was hyper-aware of him. I almost forgot Emir was there. That was the strength of my bond with Neil. I could forget the whole world existed beyond the pain he inflicted on me, and the pleasure that followed.
He tilted my chin up gently. “Ask me, Chloe.”
I squeezed my eyes shut behind the blindfold. “P-please, Sir. Hit me again.”
He kissed me, his lips barely pressing against mine. His breath teased my mouth, and I wanted to drink it in.
When he pulled away, I braced myself for the next stroke.
I received six across my buttocks, total. Every time, I clenched my entire lower body, and the burn of the ginger became worse. I gave up trying not to cry after the fourth stroke; my tears wetted the blindfold and leaked out where they could, to run down my face. I thrashed in my bonds. I couldn’t get my breath; I just kept pulling in huge gulps of air around my sobs. And all the while, Neil’s clinical description of what he was doing to me continued.
That turned me the fuck on.
“Now, as you can see here, there are some areas where the skin is split.” Sir dragged his finger along a welt, pulling a cry of agony from me. “So, we’ll leave this area and move on to…”
The cane struck me in the crease of my ass and thighs, and I screamed, loud and long, my hands squeezing into hard fists
. The ginger no longer burned, but my ass throbbed around it.
Neil pressed one hand on my stomach, his fingers spread. Just his touch immobilized me. “There, there,” he said gently. “I think that’s enough, for now. Emir, could you help me?”
The two of them worked swiftly to pull me down, and Emir removed the ginger. The ghost of the burn lingered. I trembled all over, and Emir held me up with an arm around my shoulders, because I couldn’t support myself. Sweat and spittle and tears wet my face. When Neil took off my blindfold, his face was the first thing I saw. He gave me a small smile, but his eyes were concerned.
“Sophie,” he said, using my real name for the first time all night, “give me a color.”
“What else do you have planned?” I asked, shivering from the sweat drying on my skin.
“If you need to stop, we can stop. Emir and I could finish together,” he suggested, pushing some of my damp hair from my forehead. “Or you could join us.”
“No more pain?” I whispered.
“No more pain.” He took my head in his hands and kissed my forehead.
“Then, we’re green.” I managed a tremulous smile. I hurt—majorly hurt—but I’d never felt so good.
“Lie down,” Emir murmured behind me. “The floor will ease the pain.”
He was right. The cold marble felt amazing on my backside. The adrenaline rush of euphoric pain super-heated my skin, and the tile cooled me.
“Gentleman’s choice,” Neil said, gesturing to me as though I were a buffet. Emir knelt between my legs, his body moving in a symphony of sinew and shadows, every muscle rippling in the light as he covered me. He slipped his hands under the small of my back, arching me so he could lick down the center of my ribcage, to my navel. My belly trembled.
Neil finally took off his trousers and knelt beside my head. He tapped his cock against my mouth. “Open.”
I licked my lips, parting them as much in obedience as in pleasure; Emir rubbed his cock over my clit, then slipped inside. His thrust rocked my welted flesh against the floor, and he stopped. “Will this hurt you?”
“Just enough.” I laughed, and kissed the sensitive underside of Neil’s shaft. The pleasure certainly dulled the discomfort some.
The Baby (The Boss #5) Page 2