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Polished

Page 14

by Turner, Alyssa


  Jack grinned, reading the dessert card. “Double chocolate cake and minted gelato; you don’t want to miss out on that, do you?”

  Rory shook her head. “I’m on a diet.”

  That got Jack’s attention. For a moment he looked like regular Jack, suddenly wrinkling his brow with concern. “Are you kidding?” He flashed Spencer an incredulous look. Spencer shook his head and shrugged, signaling his own frustration with the topic. What did men know anyway? The dimples that had started to form on her ass were all the proof she needed.

  She repeated herself softly in the wake of his surprised expression. “I’m on a diet.”

  Jack tilted his head and his eyebrow quirked before he leaned into her ear. “No. Not tonight. I will get to indulge you as I see fit. Do you understand?”

  Her mouth opened just slightly with words of protest lost on her tongue.

  “You are perfect. I know it. Spencer knows it. Tonight, you can just take our word for it.”

  She nodded and was oddly grateful, not for the chocolate cake per se, but for his absolution. It was different under the cover of his unwavering control. If he said she was perfect, then for one night, maybe she was.

  Jack asked for three pieces of cake to be packed up and bid a good evening to the faces he recognized as they left the party.

  Chapter Twelve

  The song playing on the car radio brought Spencer back to his high school prom. He and his baseball buddies had decided to share a limo that night. By two o’clock in the morning they were also sharing their dates. That had been a wild night. Funny how a simple song could trigger memories seldom recalled. Spencer squeezed Rory’s hand and brought it to his lips. The memory flickered and then there was only her and the adventure they were on.

  “Are you OK?” she whispered.

  He smiled and nodded. The whole silent thing was starting to feel kind of natural. Head bouncing to the beat, he relaxed into the backseat and tossed his arm on her shoulder while Jack drove them to his house. Being chauffeured should feel weird too, but he couldn’t speak, so he couldn’t protest. There was a sense of peace in all of it; he went with the flow.

  Jack turned up the volume. “I used to love this song.”

  Spencer suddenly imagined that “Magic Stick” would be a hell of a lot more significant after tonight.

  They pulled into the driveway and Spencer felt the distinct flutter of nerves in his stomach. What did Jack have planned for them? He could pretend he hadn’t tried to guess, that he didn’t have a wish list of possibilities. Without his voice, he didn’t have the ability to question any of it. They got what they got. Something about that made his cock twitch for about the eightieth time that night.

  Jack turned off the car. “Meet me in the kitchen and we’ll have some of that cake.”

  Rory darted her gaze at him. “And then?”

  Jack opened the car door and shut it without answering.

  Rory and Spencer looked at each other and Spencer knew they were both feeling the same irresistible compulsion: follow. They walked up the stone-paved driveway, lingering a few steps behind Jack. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when you were being submissive? His guess was as good as any.

  The whole thing should have freaked him out. He kept waiting to see if he’d want it all to stop. When Jack had taken him by the belt loop and led him to the car like a puppy dog, he should have tried to deck him. When he heard Jack whisper that he couldn’t wait to get him out of his pants, Spencer should have wanted to make him eat his words. But should-haves just didn’t seem to be a part of the equation. Instead, he was imagining stuffing something entirely different down Jack’s throat.

  Rory turned to him as they walked. “You look incredibly handsome tonight, babe. Not sure I told you that.”

  He would have returned the compliment, but he only shook his head and pointed back at her. She giggled a little and leaned on his shoulder, sounding like an excited little bird. His girl. She could have found the whole thing hilarious, but he was sure it wasn’t that kind of giggle. Those shining eyes of hers were miles past mere amusement. He’d be willing to bet her stomach had the same twisty, tickly sensation going on.

  Jack opened the door and disappeared down the hall. Rory started to head to their room, but Spencer reached for her arm, stopping her, and pointed toward the kitchen.

  “I just need to pee,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

  Spencer shook his head and brushed one finger over another in that universal sign for shame on you. He shot her a lopsided grin and she stuck her tongue out at him, just as playful. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do!” She scurried away, leaving Spencer waiting alone against the island.

  They’d left the light on over the pristine, commercial-grade stove, which washed the expansive room in a dim glow. Spencer tapped his fingers absently on the granite counter as he watched the moon reflect off the ocean through the windows that lined the rear of the home. Jack joined him before Rory returned.

  “You think that will hold?” Jack said as he pointed to the pot rack above the island where Spencer was leaning.

  Spencer looked up and then back at Jack. His confusion must have showed on his face.

  Jack stepped closer still. “Do you think it will hold you?”

  Spencer felt his stomach clench with the sudden rush of excitement. He pressed his lips together and shrugged. Oh fuck, he’d like to find out.

  Jack reached up and took his tie off, pulling it slowly from his neck. Then he reached for Spencer’s tie to do the same. The mere touch of Jack’s fingers, busy with the maneuvers of undoing his knot, lit his skin on fire under his clothes. He wrapped both ends in his fists and pulled Spencer’s head closer to him in a show of domination that had Spencer holding his breath.

  Inches—that’s all there was between them. Spencer gritted his teeth and gripped the edge of the counter. It took everything in him not to lean into the small space between them and kiss Jack. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

  “Take down your pants, Spencer.”

  It was a simple request, said plainly enough. Obliging could be just as simple—no questions, no protests, no nothing from his lips. Spencer loosened his belt buckle, button, and zipper, and then listened as their jangle cut into the silence when they hit the tiled floor. He did it without argument, simply because he had been told to. There he stood in his boxer briefs, his erection at full staff, jutting forth like a captive straining to be released.

  Jack moved quickly, reaching to the bottom edges and yanking his underwear to his ankles. He lingered in a crouched position, Spencer’s cock bobbing for attention in his face. Jack licked his lips and the promise Spencer saw in his eyes made every hair on his body turn electric.

  “Oh,” Rory said at the edge of the kitchen. She had removed her shoes, but her dress was still neatly in place. Spencer couldn’t discern her expression from his spot at the island. She sounded surprised, and why wouldn’t she be? A man had her boyfriend’s calves locked into his grasp and said boyfriend’s cock wept for his mouth.

  They both turned toward her, though Spencer was certain he was the only one between the two of them who was suddenly bright red in the face.

  She came to them, her hips swaying softly.

  “Oh, wow,” she spoke again with an unmistakable breathiness to her tone.

  “I’m going to tie him to the rack,” Jack said, standing. “I want you to help me.”

  She looked into Spencer’s eyes with a question for him. “OK?”

  “Don’t ask him. Do that again and you will be sorry.”

  “I—”

  “You don’t know what he needs right now, Rory. I do.”

  She bit her lip and nodded. Spencer started to reach his hand out to reassure her, but Jack caught his wrist.

  “Did you forget that we have a safe word? You both need to learn to trust each other and yourselves.”

  “And you. We need to trust you,” Rory continued. Jack tensed a
bit when she said that, raising his chin as if he’d been made to flinch.

  The moment fled. “Lift up your arms, Spencer.”

  Spencer raised them so they were crossed at the wrists above his head. The dress shirt and suit jacket he still wore hiked up, grazing his flanks. Looking down, the sight of his pants bunched in a puddle at his ankles and his cock at solid attention above sent a shiver up his spine.

  “Climb up and tie his wrists to the rack with these.” He handed Rory the neckties, and she pulled her skirt up to her thighs so she could shimmy onto the counter. Spencer swallowed, peering at her creamy skin. He watched the way her legs parted as she gained her balance on her knees. She took one of his wrists with a mischievous giggle, wrapping it quite impressively with all her might. He had to admit she did a good job. Just the slightest resistance pinched like a motherfucker and the pots made an unholy racket if he thrashed in the least. One false move and he was sure the whole gang of cookware would fall on his head.

  With his other wrist secured, Spencer was stretched to the max, making it difficult to keep his balance with his ankles captured in his pants and that pain-in-the-ass cast.

  “Fuck, you look amazing,” Jack said. “Don’t you think so, Rory?”

  “Mmm-hmm. He does.” Her head cocked to the side as she sized him up. “What are we going to do to him?”

  Spencer smirked at her and shook his head. Even he understood that was a mistake.

  “First you’re going to get your sweet little ass down from there and bend over the counter while I show you who the fuck is the boss around here.”

  Spencer flashed his eyes at Jack as he took off his belt. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave a mark on her, I promise.”

  Rory didn’t seem as convinced, yet she lay delicately over the counter without a peep. Jack raked her dress up over her bare ass. He slipped his hand between her thighs. “You cleaned up.”

  “I was a mess.”

  “Bad girl.” The belt snapped against her skin and she let out a sharp cry. “That’s for not being in the kitchen waiting for me like I told you to be.”

  Spencer wriggled against his bindings and the pots clamored above him.

  Jack locked eyes with him. “You’re OK, aren’t you, Ror?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You ready for another?”

  She lifted her head and looked at Spencer. “Yes, sir.”

  The leather cracked against her pale, naked bottom again and he watched her fingers curl into fists, her arms stretched out in front of her.

  “You shouldn’t have cleaned away all of your juices.” He rubbed the spot where he’d just spanked in slow circles. Rory’s hips began to sway with his strokes. “Now I have to get that pussy all wet again.”

  Rory whimpered, but it wasn’t from pain. Spencer knew the sound of that whimper. He’d give his left arm to dip his hand into that pool he was sure she had gathering between her legs.

  “Do you think I can do that, Rory?” Jack was saying, rubbing her pink cheek in wider circles now, swiping low and closer to her cunt. “How about you, Spencer? Do you think I can make your girlfriend’s pussy cream for me?”

  Spencer nodded, felt his head bob up and down like an eager little boy. He didn’t think it was possible, but his cock swelled even more.

  “Think I’ll check, just to be sure.” Rory let out a ragged moan and Spencer knew Jack’s fingers were inside her. “Yes, that’s better.”

  He let go of her then, but when she fussed with her dress he shook his head. This time it was all she needed and she stopped trying to pull it down.

  “Spencer, your girlfriend is such a bad girl. What am I going to do with her?” Jack said. He pressed her forward again and his fingers returned to a steady pace in her cunt. Spencer could only smile at him with a playful shrug.

  “You, on the other hand, have been on your best behavior all night and I think you deserve a reward.” Leaving Rory for just a moment, Jack turned to the bags holding their to-go containers of chocolate cake and grabbed a fork. He helped Rory climb back onto the counter and handed them to her. “Feed him.”

  She kneeled on the counter and Spencer turned toward her with an open mouth. She placed a forkful of cake on his tongue. It was rich and decadent. And then he felt a hand, strong and sure, take hold of his cock.

  He couldn’t look, couldn’t register the sensation of the man in front of him stroking his shaft. So Spencer closed his eyes and opened his mouth, accepting another shaky mouthful from Rory. When Spencer opened his eyes again, it was only to find hers fixated on Jack’s hand and the way it shuttled up and down the length of his cock.

  Rory pressed her forehead to Spencer’s. “Oh sweetie, that is so goddamn sexy.”

  He felt his nuts coiling already and he closed his eyes again, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of sensations whirling in his body. He pumped his hips into Jack’s fist and suddenly there was more. Warm soft velvet passed along the underside of his shaft. He forced his eyes open, needing to confirm what his body already knew.

  Jack’s cock pressed against his, held in place by his thumb while his fingers wrapped the top of Spencer’s shaft. The sight sent a bolt of lightning through him—just like he feared, just like he craved.

  Jack placed his hand on Spencer’s neck, thrusting his hips forward as he did so. He grunted at him. “Look at me.”

  Spencer raised his head, tearing his eyes away from the sight of both their cocks sliding in Jack’s hand. The way Spencer’s breaths passed through his clenched teeth in short puffs made him feel like a steam engine ready to blow. His eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on Jack, and Jack stared back with the same intensity. And that was what did it. He came like a bullet, shooting hot streams into the air and all over Jack’s dress shirt and his own. He also soaked Jack’s cock, which was still purple and gleaming with his own arousal.

  Rory scrambled to their side with a wild look in her eyes that made him fall in love with her all over again. She bounced from one foot to the next as though she couldn’t keep in one place. “Please Jack. Please, let me have him.” Her voice broke with desire.

  Jack nodded and she dived onto Spencer’s cock, gobbling him to the back of her throat, sucking another shock wave from his toes and out his throbbing head. He blew out a slow billow of air, steeling himself against the second wave of pleasure enveloping him.

  Her hand floated to Jack’s still-needful dick. Spencer watched her fingers graze the sides of Jack’s staff tentatively, her mouth still busy with his own cock while she did so. It was against the rules to speak and he knew it. But he had a need stronger than the one keeping him mute all evening. Fuck it if it was the sickest thing he’d ever wanted, but he had to make it happen: “Suck him, Ror. I wanna see you do it.”

  She didn’t give Jack a second to protest. She was on him and hungry for it. It was as if Spencer had granted her the one thing she was afraid to ask for. Jack threaded his fingers into her hair, thrusting his cock into her mouth a few times before holding her head perfectly still. Her tongue stretched to meet the tip of his head, just out of her reach. Heavy, excited breaths heaved from her mouth as she looked up at him.

  “Suck us both,” Jack told her with a narrowing stare.

  Spencer realized his head was nodding after a second or two. He wondered if Rory could read his mind. Maybe the toothy-ass grin on his face was clue enough. Somehow he forgot to be embarrassed. Somehow he didn’t think he needed to be.

  No way did Rory have a big mouth—neither figuratively nor physically. But she was anything but a quitter. Grabbing them both in her hands, she brandished the two cocks with a look of determination, as if spurred on by the challenge. Rory stretched her jaw and, extending her tongue, brought the heads of their cocks to her mouth. She managed the tips alone, rubbing them together on her wet tongue. Spencer moaned and heard the same from Jack when she began slurping both of them like a double scoop of ice cream. Spencer shuddered at the sight. At his shoulders, a dull ache was
settling in. The pain was barely noticeable, hardly more than a distant nuisance.

  Spencer’s mouth slackened as his head hung downward with eyes fixated on Rory’s busy mouth. She curled her tongue between the two men’s cockheads and then pressed them together. Again she wrapped her lips around both of them and then dived onto Spencer’s cock to the base. Her cheeks hollowed. His ass cheeks clenched. Desperation drove his hips to roll forward. He had to fuck her, needed it more than he ever had before.

  Jack took a handful of her hair and held Rory’s head firm as Spencer pumped into her mouth. With his other hand, Jack stroked his own cock fast and hard. Jack was close to coming; the fierce intensity on his face was unmistakable. When the first eruption of milky seed spilled from his tip he grabbed Rory’s head and fed it to her. Rory made her tongue flat and lapped up every drop from Jack’s swollen cock.

  “Don’t swallow,” Jack instructed. And then he pushed her mouth back onto Spencer’s cock.

  All Spencer could think of was adding to the bounty. Her mouth was just as warm, wet, and eager as always, but having her lips slick with both his and Jack’s cum pulled a back-arching orgasm from him in about ten strokes.

  He cried out like a wounded animal, exhausted, with sore shoulders and throbbing nuts. But like a fast-moving storm, the haze of his arousal was clearing, and clarity was a sharp stab to his gut.

  What the fuck had they just done?

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the moments following Spencer’s second orgasm, detachment invaded him like thick black smoke. Jack pulled away, flashing Rory a look of disappointment and reached up to untie him. Neither of them had missed the shift. This would be the end of it, then, even if he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be.

  Spencer was surprised when Rory placed her hands on either side of his face and tugged his head toward her, making it impossible for him to avoid eye contact. “I love you,” she said with a clear, strong voice.

  Spencer looked at her, knowing she’d see the trouble in his eyes.

 

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