The Greatest Risk

by Kristen Ashley

  For his part, D caught him at the back of the neck in a tight hold and kept him there, undulating his hips to meet the thrusts he was taking, to deepen the strokes at his cock as they kissed like the lovers they were.

  Molly was so right.

  It was beautiful.

  Things started to get critical, going faster, harder, deeper, and Maddox broke the kiss so both of them could breathe, but he didn’t go very far away.

  “Yeah, baby?” he whispered.

  “Yeah, Mad,” D whispered back.

  Yes.

  Beautiful.

  Maddox moved to slow, smooth, thorough strokes, obviously wanting to draw out the experience, give himself more, give D more.

  “Love your ass.” D arched into him and Maddox groaned, pulling hard on his man’s dick. “Love this cock.”

  Unfortunately, this tripped something in Diesel. His hand, still at Maddox’s neck, suddenly fisted in his hair, and Sixx sensed the change immediately.

  And automatically mourned it.

  Maddox sure didn’t miss it.

  “Need it rough?” he asked instantly.

  “Yeah,” D grunted.

  “My boy need to submit?” Maddox went on.

  “Fuck yeah,” D groaned.

  Abruptly, Maddox straightened and looked down at D, placing his hands on the insides of his knees, spreading him impossibly wider.

  With no choice, D’s ass tilted up with the move, and a sound of pained hunger rocketed from his chest as Maddox started pumping in harder.

  “You gonna submit?” Maddox asked, his thrusts now fast and going wild.

  “If you make me,” Diesel dared.

  Maddox pulled out, flipped D violently, hauled up his hips, and bumped his thighs wide with a knee. With him in position, Maddox slammed up his ass, mounting him fully by curving over his back, hand curled around the back of D’s neck and staying there, forcing him face down to the table, pounding into him.

  “Yeah?” he bit off.

  “Yeah,” D pushed out.

  Sixx thought the loss of what they’d had was wretched.

  She also thought Maddox giving it up because Diesel needed him to was an amazing display of love.

  “Who’s up inside you?” Maddox demanded.

  “You, Maddox.”

  Maddox started pummeling, each drive forcing a grunt from D. “Who?”

  “Master. My Master’s taking my ass.”

  “You like him up there?”

  “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”

  “You need him up there?”

  “Oh yeah, fuck yeah, need that monster cock.”

  “Whose cock?” Maddox demanded.

  “Your cock.”

  Maddox started seriously pistoning, and Diesel’s grunts started grating.

  “Whose cock, goddammit?” Maddox pushed.

  “My Master’s cock. My ass needs my Master’s cock. I need my Master’s cock.”

  “So you submit?” Maddox asked.

  “I submit, Mad.”

  “Then submit, D. Beg your Master to fuck your ass,” Maddox ordered, even though he hadn’t stopped doing just that.

  “Take my ass. Fuck it. Fuck me. Please, Master, don’t fucking stop. Keep goddamned fucking me.”

  “Stay down, motherfucker,” Mad ordered, put a hand into the table for leverage, the hand at D’s neck he moved to his cock, and he jacked him and kept fucking him entirely differently than he’d been doing.

  Sixx looked to Molly, who felt her gaze and gave Sixx her own.

  “Still totes hot,” she said softly. “But sad. Though it was nice having it while it lasted.”

  She was “totes” right.

  “Up,” Maddox ordered, gaining both women’s eyes. “Hands behind your head.”

  D complied.

  Maddox hauled him around so they had D’s impressive front, not the men at their sides, doing this still connected, which was an awe-inspiring feat.

  Maddox latched on to the dick and balls bobbing in front of him and went at them, pulling and squeezing both ruthlessly.

  “Christ, yeah,” D exploded, starting to move violently, meeting the thrusts at his ass.

  “You know you’re taking a huge-ass plug, keeping my cum inside you, wearing that home for me.”

  D just grunted and kept doing it.

  “You gave me three loads last night, you take this one, we’re done here. When I get you home, D, I’m bending you over the kitchen table at my seat, so I can think of having your ass there, full of me, while I eat, and I’ll give you one more load. Now bow your fucking head when you’re taking me.”

  D bowed his head, groaning, “I need to come, man.”

  “You’re not gonna come.”

  “I need to come, Maddox.”

  “You’re,” deep, slow, brutal stroke that jolted D’s entire body, “gonna,” another, “hold.”

  Back to pistoning.

  “Fuck me,” D growled.

  “That’s what I’m doin’, my man.”

  “Condom,” D bit out.

  “No. You’re gonna shoot for Molly. You’re gonna give our girl your cum. We’ll clean up after.”

  “Mad—”

  “Take your monster. You love it. Take it.”

  “Maddox—”

  “Tell me you love it.”

  “I love it,” D grated, now bucking sadistically into the thrusts he was taking.

  “Tell me you love my cock deep up your ass,” Maddox commanded.

  “I love your cock deep up my ass. Fuck yeah, I love it buried deep,” D rasped out. “Fuck, Maddox, I need to blow.”

  “Take it and hold.”

  “Christ.”

  “Take it and hold.”

  “Fuck, baby,” D begged. “Let me blow.”

  Maddox fucked a “baby” out of his man.

  Sixx almost smiled.

  And that did it.

  “Take … my … load,” Maddox’s last word was a groan as he blew and so he had to force out a coarse, “Go.”

  Maddox moved with him as D came fully up on his knees and arched madly, buttocks clenching his man so hard up his ass, through his orgasmic groans, Maddox’s throat exploded with a harsh grunt. His head hiked back while D shouted out his climax, Maddox’s unceasing hands pulling at him and squeezing him, and Diesel shot cum across the table phenomenally as they both experienced exquisite release.

  Now that she was taking vitamins, Sixx needed to find out what these boys took. Whatever it was packed a punch.

  Yowza.

  They shook with their aftershocks, chests moving deeply, and the comedown took a while before Maddox slid a tender hand up D’s chest, around to his back, where he shoved him down, face to the table, and kept stroking up his ass, now slowly.

  It was then it hit Sixx that Maddox had given D everything Diesel had forced him to promise to give the night before.

  Which was everything Diesel wanted to take.

  He might not be creative, but God, he loved his man.

  “Molly, baby, bring me Diesel’s plug,” Maddox ordered softly.

  “Okay,” she murmured.

  Maddox looked down to D.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “Yeah, man,” Diesel replied.

  “Had a chance to think of payback?”

  “Mind’s been somewhat occupied, bro. So not yet, but it’s gonna rock your world.”

  Maddox chuckled, still moving inside D, looking down at the man before him with a gentle face and love in his black eyes, something Sixx had not seen him give Diesel openly, except that sadly short time they were making love.

  Then Maddox took his shot.

  “You know I live for two things, this ass and her pussy.”

  There was a hesitation, a tightening of D’s body, before he whispered, “I know, buddy.”

  He said no more, and because he didn’t, the new look on Maddox’s face tore at Sixx’s heart.

  God, they were killing her.

  Molly arrived with
the plug.

  Maddox took it, and she sat on the edge of the table, running her fingers through D’s hair, which caused him to turn his head and look up at her, keeping his position bowed in front of his Master, probably not cognizant of all that said, especially Maddox still moving inside him, claiming what was his in a moment of calm.

  D gave Molly a grin.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” he said gently.

  “Hey, my D,” she replied, gazing at him adoringly.

  Maddox pulled out, D’s thighs tightened when he took his plug, and then Maddox slapped D’s ass, giving him permission to be at ease. “Get dressed, my man, time for a drink, recuperation, and I’m back at you at home.”

  Diesel, Sixx noticed, gave Molly a hard kiss, not Maddox, and he didn’t look at Sixx at all as he climbed off the table and headed to his jeans.

  Molly set about cleaning up her man’s cum.

  Sixx rose from her chair and aimed her eyes out the window at nothing, giving them privacy to get themselves sorted.

  Maddox caught her attention after he’d yanked on his jeans and started to move with shirt and boots in his hand toward Sixx, stopping close, looking at her and asking her like he didn’t care about her answer.

  “Work for you?”

  Not willing herself to do it, but glad she did, she lifted her hand, laid it lightly on his chest and stared right into his eyes.

  “Inspired,” she whispered.

  He glared at her for a beat before his black eyes melted. He lifted his free hand, curled his fingers around the back of hers at his chest, squeezed them lightly, dipped his chin then let her go.

  Her hand dropped, and Maddox moved away.

  Apparently aftercare was Molly’s territory because she was leaning so heavily into D, both arms around his middle, his arm slung across her shoulders as they made their way to Sixx after D got dressed and Maddox had packed them up that it looked like she was holding him up.

  D met her eyes like a dare. “Told you I’d buy it.”

  “You could give a class on taking an ass thrashing,” she quipped. “In a variety of ways.”

  His eyes—weirdly cold and remote for the man she’d known somewhat meaningfully if only briefly, but had come to like a great deal—roamed her face.

  Fortunately, he found what he needed there, his lips quirked in a shadow of his impudent grin, and he said, “Your last martini was on Mad. Your next is on me.”

  “How about my round?” she asked.

  D looked genuinely offended.

  “A woman buy a drink?” he queried, like that concept was foreign to him, foreign and repulsive.

  “I do have money,” she replied.

  “That doesn’t happen on our watch,” Maddox chimed in, joining them, fingers curled around the duffel.

  Their …

  Watch?

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Sixx snapped.

  “Just give in. Seriously. Or we’ll be standing here all night, and I need a daiquiri,” Molly declared.

  Before Sixx could reply, Maddox growled, gaze aimed over her shoulder, “Fuck. It’s our guy.”

  Sixx whirled, looked into station seven …

  And there he was.

  The man in Tucker’s pictures.

  “Molly, baby, hit the bar,” Diesel ordered. “Now.”

  Molly scooted, going directly to the sliding glass door and through it.

  Sixx pulled her phone out of her cleavage, engaged it and the camera.

  She turned back to the men.

  “Ready, boys?”

  “Fuck yeah,” Diesel said.

  Maddox had eyes to the window but jerked up his chin.

  “Let’s roll.”

  twenty-five

  Especially in This House

  SIXX

  In Sixx’s experience, when you were going to be doing something someone might not want you to do, you didn’t fuck around.

  You just did it before they got the chance to try and stop you.

  But you went in prepared that they might try and stop you so you could stop them from doing that.

  So with the boys at her back, Sixx strolled right up to station seven like she owned the joint, phone raised, camera at the ready.

  The DM clocked them before they got there, obviously, and went on alert.

  Sixx ignored him, moved wide of him when they got close, and continued to ignore him when he clipped, “No cameras in the play area.”

  Apparently ready to rumble after worrying about this situation for as long as they had, although Sixx said nothing, D growled, “Fuck off.”

  The DM shifted her way, stupidly keeping his focus on Sixx. “I said no fucking cameras.”

  She got off a shot.

  His hand darted out toward her phone as she got off another one.

  He didn’t catch hold but instead was slammed back to the glass, two big fists in his polo crunched at his chest by Diesel.

  “What the fuck!” she heard shouted angrily, by a male voice off to her other side that was too close for her liking, as the DM tussled with D and yelled, “Get off me, man!”

  Sixx kept taking shots of the man in station seven, who was now looking out the windows at her with big eyes, the girl with him blinking hazily at the action outside. At the same time she heard male noises at her side and knew Maddox had engaged another DM.

  She let the boys do their work and decided to be thorough. If Barclay hadn’t noticed, he needed to become aware of the state of the girls working for his partner. So she took several steps wide to the left, firing off shots of the still-berobed girl in station six, withered and wasted (the latter in more ways than one—seriously, the girl in room seven looked relatively healthy whereas this one was totally strung out, carried too many brands, and was scored all over with the scarred remains of blood play) and waiting for her next trick.

  “Sixx, watch it!” Maddox grunted, obviously still grappling.

  Sixx whirled just before a hand grabbed for her phone, but she did it prepared. Since her arm was already raised, she cocked it higher and let fly with her elbow, striking him hard in the side of the neck.

  DM number three made a surprised noise of pain and stumbled back a step but unfortunately recovered quickly and moved quicker.

  Catching her wrist, he twisted the skin in his hand in an effort to bring on enough pain for her to drop the phone (he failed) at the same time he jerked her so her body slammed into his.

  Getting her there, he demanded viciously right in her face, “Give me that fuckin’ phone.”

  People thought wearing high heels made you vulnerable.

  It did only if you didn’t know how to use them.

  Sixx knew how to use them.

  Therefore she lifted a leg and put all her weight into bringing her stiletto down on the top of his foot.

  She thought she felt bone crunching.

  He let her go as a wounded, enraged yowl came from his throat, and he bent toward his foot.

  She was about to make a move to incapacitate him when they were joined by another party.

  And who that party was shocked Sixx into immobility.

  The yowl truncated when DM number three was slammed chest first against glass, his cheek violently crunched against the window because Stellan’s hand was wrapped around the side of his head.

  Stellan stepped back, taking the guy with him, turning him, and without delay, taking his head in both hands, he slammed the guy’s facedown into his raised knee.

  The man grunted as his legs gave out, and Stellan switched holds.

  Letting his head go while clenching a fist in his shirt, he held him steady for a succession of blows to the face, each precisely aimed at his cheekbone, the second splitting the skin, the third opening it wider, the fourth sending blood spatter spitting out, the fifth insult to injury, the sixth making it a miracle the guy was remaining conscious.

  His head lolling, Stellan let him go, and he floated to the floor.

  He straightened from him and didn�
��t look at a stunned Sixx.

  But where he aimed his eyes nudged Sixx out of her stasis, making her pivot toward the noises she was hearing behind her.

  The DM Diesel smacked to the glass was in a fetal position on the floor, out of commission, moaning and cradling his junk.

  Maddox had a chokehold on DM number two, immobilizing him.

  But one of the DMs must have alerted Beardsley because he’d entered the fray and engaged Diesel, and now Diesel was going to town on him.

  “That’s it,” Maddox snarled his encouragement. “Fuck him up, bro.”

  Diesel didn’t really need the encouragement, and he was proving Sixx’s assessment of last night true.

  He could easily twist the guy into a pretzel.

  If he wanted to.

  He clearly didn’t want to.

  He wanted to beat the snot out of him.

  Guess that myth of fighters preparing for a bout by not allowing sexual release in order to conserve strength was just that. A myth. Diesel had blown repeatedly very recently, yet he was, no other way to put it, fucking the guy up.

  Sixx had just started to turn to Stellan to ask what the hell he was doing there when a deep voice boomed, “Stand down!”

  She looked to her right and got shock number two of the evening.

  Branch Dillinger was standing there, stony-faced (as usual), hot (as usual) and looking pissed (not as usual, he usually didn’t look anything but bored, uninterested or unfriendly).

  Behind him stood Josh Coates next to a dark-haired, mildly attractive man of average height and enraged expression who she knew from her research was Barclay Richardson, and a tall, built black man who might be in the top six (now seven—in order: Stellan, Diesel, Aryas, Maddox, Olly, Branch, and that guy) of the handsomest men she’d ever seen.

  Diesel pushed Beardsley off, sending him careening into a partition wall then falling flat on his ass, dripping blood from lip, nose and a cut over his eye.

  With a nasty shove at the back of his head, Maddox sent DM number two staggering his way, and Maddox must have done some damage before the chokehold because the dude could barely keep himself up. He ended on a knee and both hands, for some reason Sixx suspected was Maddox’s doing, his other leg dragging behind him, a few feet away from Beardsley.

  “Join your colleagues,” Stellan murmured in a voice very like him, silky, calm and articulate, but he did it dragging the stupefied DM number three he’d beat to hell over to his compatriots, dropping him close and stepping away.