by L. A. Boruff
Madame West presses a button on her remote, and her hips practically jump off the seat of her throne as she bucks and thrashes.
A loud scream of pleasure and satisfaction rips from her throat suddenly, and I start preparing myself to come. I’ve held it off so many times tonight, I hope I can come. Sometimes I push that too far and just can’t.
Tonight needs to be the perfect night, so I truly hope that’s not the case.
Madame West’s eyes pop open, and she captures my gaze with her stare.
“Dane.”
“Yes, M-Madame West?” Oh wow, I really am on the ragged edge of control.
“Bring me your cock. Now.”
Oh gods. I hope this is it.
Quickly, I obey. I disengage myself from Luna, who looks content to lie in a puddle of pleased submissiveness on the cushion, smiling dreamily up at me. I get to my feet shakily, cock wobbling as much as my knees are, and make my way in front of Madame’s throne.
“Kneel in front of me and stroke your cock. Right here.” She points with the hand that was stroking Knox a moment ago, directly between her knees. “Do not come yet.”
“No, Madame West.” I do as I’m ordered, my hand moving steadily on my slippery cock, still coated in Luna’s juices.
Fascinated, I watch as Madame West squeezes her stomach muscles, then catches the egg-shaped toy as it comes sliding out of her cunt.
“Lean forward, Dane. Suck my clit.”
“Yes, Madame West.” Happily, I obey her order, capturing her nub between my lips and sucking it hard into my mouth. I flick my tongue over it rapidly as she seemed to like earlier.
“Mmmm, yes…just like that. Now, Dane. Do you think you’ve earned an orgasm tonight?”
I wondered for a second if I should answer since she ordered me to keep my mouth busy, but then she took away my concerns by gently grabbing my hair and pulling my mouth off of her tasty kitty.
“I don’t know, Madame West. That’s obviously your call.”
Her pleased smile says I answered well.
“Exactly. My call. Kneel, but sit up straight.”
“Yes, Madame West.”
She leans forward and gives me one more of those invasive kisses I’m learning to appreciate. While her tongue penetrates my mouth mercilessly, she keeps hold of my hair and climbs up onto my thighs. In an instant, I’m buried to the hilt in her luscious, warm folds once again.
All I can do now is try not to fall over as she rocks up and down on my stiff cock, her muscles grabbing me inside of her slick, sweet walls. Feels fucking amazing. I’m gonna have to control myself.
“Now, Dane. Come for me. Hard.”
“Yes, Madame West.” I hope I can.
I shouldn’t have worried.
A second passes, and my orgasm erupts like a volcano. Sweet, sexy lava spews up from my core, and I shake with the intensity of it as she keeps fucking me mercilessly.
“Good boy, Dane. Such a very good boy. You keep coming. I want it all. Every drop. Every shake. Every fucking quiver.”
And she’s not stopping, either. The feeling is so intense that I almost can’t stand it. At least she stops squeezing me with her muscles inside. It feels so good, I wonder if I’m gonna faint at first.
Finally, she slows her motion and her hips lazily slide up and down as she milks the last of my powerful climax.
One last suck of my tongue, then she’s standing up, leaving me breathless and dazed and still kneeling.
“Luna. Kneel.”
As before, Luna quickly slides into a kneeling position next to the ottoman.
Madame West repeats her earlier motion, grabbing Luna’s hair and tipping her head back, then jamming Luna’s mouth into Madame West’s luscious kitty.
Luna, obviously used to this, sucks and licks noisily. I think she’s actually cleaning out Madame West.
“Thank you, Dane. That will be all. Get your clothes, and I’ll see you off tomorrow afternoon.”
Part of me wants to balk at her abrupt dismissal but after the amazing night she gave me, I have to at least be grateful for that.
Still dazed by the orgasm, I clumsily amble to my feet and wander across the room. Grabbing my clothes from the closet, I slip my jeans over one leg, trying to redress myself.
“I did not tell you to get dressed. Take your things and go to your room. And for not following orders, walk back naked. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Madame West.”
Her grin makes me feel better.
“Dane,” Summer calls out as I reach the door to leave. “If you’d like a goodnight kiss later, be sure to leave your door unlocked.” With a wink, she returns her attention to Luna while guiding her ruby lips back around Summer’s luscious cunt. “That’s perfect. Such a good girl.”
I open the door and glance around the room one last time, accepting the fact that I’ll probably never come back. Doesn’t matter. It was a night to remember, regardless.
Grinning proudly from my evening’s performance, I close the door behind me then wander back to my room, naked as instructed, wondering if I’ll really get a late-night visit from Summerlan West.
Trick or Treat?
Hell. I hope I get both.
The End
Boys of Summer is a sexy series centering on Scandal in the NY Hampton's.
Each season, Madame Summerlan West hires a brand new set of young, hot recruits to join Scandal. In exchange for keeping her secret - that Scandal isn't just a night club, but a secret society catering exclusively to women who wish to fulfill their ultimate sexual fantasies - the recruits receive a generous scholarship and in the process, maybe even a Happily Ever After of their own.
Each story is a standalone short or novella in differing sub-genres of romance: Polyamory, Menage, Reverse Harem, LGBTQ, various BDSM themes, and Romantic Suspense.
For more Boys of Summer, find us online:
https://www.caiadaniels.com/
https://www.facebook.com/CaiaDaniels/
https://www.facebook.com/groups/
CaiaDanielsSirensOfScandal/
KT Strange: Beautiful Monsters
Author’s Note: This short is for fans of dark-themed stories, broken alpha males, and the strong women that are forged in the fires of shadowy love. This story takes place during Phoenixrise, book #5 in the Rogue Witch series, available on Amazon here: https://amazon.com/author/ktstrange
How do you look your best friend in the eyes and lie to her? There wasn't anything that Darcy and I kept secret from each other, not until recently anyway. But now? There's a world between what Darcy knows about me and the real truth.
Darcy Llewellyn, my best friend, college roommate, sister from a magical mister, because she's a witch. Oh, and also? She might just be sleeping with a pack of werewolves she's managing who are in a rock-band. Super complicated, but that's her life and she seems to be getting along okay.
My story is a lot simpler.
My name is Max Morgan, I'm 22, a college senior, currently on the off with my on-again-off-again high-school sweetheart, an official member of the Dead Mothers Club, and maybekindasorta a phoenix.
Yeah, you read that right. I spontaneously combust. I've been told that once I get really old, or if I get really hurt or sick, I'll just spontaneously combust myself and be born again. Same body, same face, no memories. That's why I had no idea that I'm some kinda magical shifter-type humanoid until recently. I found out when a guy decided that stabbing me was a great way to send me into the afterlife. Too bad the joke's on him, I'm immortal, well, immortal enough.
So, right, lies and the lying liars who tell them. Lying liars like me. Recently my bestie, Darcy, got into some shit with her werewolves and to keep me safe because everyone apparently wants to murder her bestie, I got stuck with some guys who are part of this group called Sentinel. It really couldn't get more Avengers-Superhero than that, except these guys are more back-alley and cheap beer than high end super-suits and thousand dollar champagne.
&nb
sp; They're headed up by this vampire that I'm pretty sure is insane, named Wolfe, who seems to have an obsession with corks and watching me sleep. I know cause I've woken up more than a few times with him sitting across from me, fingers steepled, those creepy eyes of his glowing in the dark. He's the one who told me all about my new-found powers, and he's been pretty genial about the whole thing. He's not the one who peppered my skin with bruises, or left me feeling like I couldn't sleep at night. Because when he's around? He keeps the rest of Sentinel in line. When he's not? That's when everything goes dark. That's what you get when you sleep under the same roof as demons and monsters.
All Darcy wants to know is what happened to me when I was under Wolfe's protection. What she doesn't know can't give her nightmares.
"C'mon Max," Darcy says, running her fingers through my long hair. I want to cut it off now, shear it right off with a pair of scissors, but Darcy and her pack have been keeping a pretty close eye on me. They seem to know something's wrong even if I haven't said anything. I don't think I could get my hands on a pair of scissors in their fancy penthouse apartment if I wanted to. "You can tell me anything," she promises. I close my eyes. I wish that were true.
"There's nothing really to talk about," I lie through my teeth. "I watched a lot of Friends reruns and ate cold pizza." I shift from where I'm sitting on the floor in front of her. She catches my eyes with hers, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. She knows I'm lying to her, but I don't think she knows I know she knows.
The problem is, I can't tell her. She's been through so much lately, and the last thing she needs is another helping of guilt. She already feels bad enough for 'wrecking my life', as if me being a phoenix is her fault. She takes on way too much, and she's got a whole pack of werewolves to look after now. They range from fairly mature to having the emotional stability of a three year old on a sugar crash, so she doesn't need my grief to add to the pile.
Plus, how do I tell her? How do I explain everything that happened while I was with Sentinel?
And... how do I explain that I liked it?
A shiver runs through me as I remember the last time I was with Sentinel.
***
Two weeks before…
I wake up, my head pounding. Levi and I did so many Goldschlager shots last night, I swear I've got a pound of gold flakes swishing around in my gut. I sit up. The room is dark, it always is. Demons hate the light, after all.
Pulling back the curtain on the one window in my bedroom, I can see the sunlight is dying on the horizon. I swallow hard and stumble over to the closet on sore legs. Everything's sore. I paced the length of this shitty apartment probably five hundred times. Too bad I don't have a Fitbit or I'd seriously clock up those daily steps. My world used to be so big, with so many people in it. Now it's the four walls of this janky-ass apartment with bars on the window.
I trade my sleep shirt for fresh clothes, a pair of tight red jeans that aren't mine and a t-shirt that looks like it was pulled out of the Hot Topic sale bin, it's more mesh and hole than fabric. No bra, because my captors, sorry, saviors, don't believe in underwires or something. They like me in next to nothing.
I catch the outline of my body in the floor length mirror that dominates the far wall of the room and shiver. I've never been a skinny girl, more on the plus side of life, but I'm losing weight here. The shirt clings to my breasts, sticks to my stomach even, and it's not as curvy as it normally is. I imagine a life after this, where someone turns to me and says 'Oh Max, you look amazing! You lost so much weight!' and I answer 'Thanks. It's the Held Captive by Demons Diet. Works great. Hell on your tan though.'
See, as soon as Wolfe left, suddenly Levi and Landon, two of my 'guardians' decided that grocery shopping was for mere mortals. Since I'm not allowed out of the apartment because my 'life's in danger', I'm at their mercy when it comes to food stuffs. And something about demons that is entirely unsurprising to me? They seem to exist on booze, coffee, and more booze.
The scent of coffee brewing is strong when I walk out of the bedroom, proving my theory as soon as I step into the living room. This place is old, just a dingy galley kitchen and a small living room crammed with a low, threadbare couch.
Levi looks up first, a smirk playing on his lips. He runs a hand through his curling, brown hair. He's good looking and knows it. He's got the face of a saint and the mind of a sinner. The angle of his jaw, the rough rugged way stubble highlights the planes of his face, all scream bad news and morning-after regrets. He's the kind of man dreams are made of and then goes on to haunt you in your nightmares.
"Morning, sweetness," he says, his eyes flickering in the dim light of the room. They're watching TV, some cartoons, the light of outside casting red glowing squares where black fabric is pulled across the windows. Landon's gaze follows Levi's, dragging up my form. It doesn't matter what I wear, they always make me feel naked.
The first night Wolfe was gone, they had me naked and begging for them to leave me alone, and that hasn't stopped. Every night is the same. Wake up, get dressed, down a cup of coffee or five until I'm shaky and feeling sick to my stomach. Levi will come to me first, wrapping his fingers around my wrists, pulling them up above my head until I'm standing on my tip-toes to keep the pressure off of them. I'm not short by any stretch, but Levi is massive. Tall and slightly leaner than Landon, he's still packing pounds of muscle.
"Morning," I mumble, and walk to the kitchen. On the counter is a deep bowl filled with small Halloween candy. That's new. My stomach rumbles. Holding my breath, I pick up a wrapped Snickers bar, and slowly peel it open. The scent of chocolate is thick around me as I press it to my lips, and I moan.
It's amazing how fast things like snack-sized candy becomes a luxury you'll beg for. I cram it into my mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. It sticks in my throat and hurts the way down, so I pour a cup of coffee and drink it black.
A noise behind me, the creak of the floor, makes me stiffen.
"So you found our little stash," Levi drawls. The floorboards groan and he presses up against me from behind. "Those are all for you, beautiful." His arms come around me and before I can flinch, his hands are cupping my breasts through the mesh fabric of my shirt. "I like this," he says, his breath rushing over the curve of my ear. "I can see everything through it, nothing for you to hide and yet it shields you at the same time."
His fingers are cool through the fabric, making me shiver. These demons? Monsters in the shape of men? They're like snakes, cold-blooded and cool to the touch. Some mornings Levi's wrapped around me to sleep and I've woken, stiff and sore from all the heat he's leached from my body.
"Last I checked, the government didn't recommend a steady diet of sugar and booze for anybody," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. He chuckles.
"We both know that the food pyramid is a sham, put together by whomever can pay the biggest bribe." His fingers abandon my breast to brush my hair back, away from my ear and over my shoulder. His mouth is cool when it closes over the side of my neck. It's too early for this, I just woke up.
"Please," I whisper, knowing he'll just ignore me, but desperate to ask anyway. "Please don't, I just-" Tears spill over my cheeks and I sob helplessly, my whole body feeling weak and drained. I'm in some nightmare, put here by people who thought it was best for me. Nobody ever asked me what I wanted. And Levi never asks me if it's okay to use my body, to make me feel things; he just does what he wants and I let him.
"Levi," Landon's voice is low and irritated. I look up and he's standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes shifting from me to the man handling me. Levi's mouth shifts from licking slowly at my pulse to smirking against my skin. "Levi, we talked about this."
Landon is the more serious of the two of them, broad like a wall, dark eyes and darker hair. I swear to god I'd seen his face on more than a few men's cologne ads. He's Levi's shadow, haunting the voids Levi leaves, the set-up to Levi's punchline. They work together like they've been in each other's pockets for a centu
ry, which given what little I've learned about them, is probably about accurate.
"The only person who didn't get input was Red, here," Levi says, his hands squeezing my breast, not enough to be painful but threatening it. Play along, Max, stay alive, Max. Life has narrowed into the small things. Eat enough to get up again the next day. Fall to my knees every time Levi runs his hands through my hair. Get drunk because it numbs what's going on. Pray that Wolfe will come back soon because he's the only hope of me seeing the daylight again from outside this apartment.
"Levi," Landon's voice drops even lower, dangerous, filled with something that terrifies me to my core. These two men are something else. They're the feeling of dread like someone's watching you that you can't see. The last breath before you slip under the waves when you're drowning. That slow moment right before an accident as the world stops turning and your cry catches in your throat. They hover at the edge of everything, and they'll be my unmaking if I'm not careful.
"I'm fine," my lips are chapped as I speak, my legs trembling, a sick feeling in my gut. I'm the last thing from 'fine'. I'm on the edge and both men know it. Landon might hold me there, but Levi's perfectly willing to push me right over.
"She's fine," Levi mocks, his fingers going hard on my flesh, digging into my breast. I cry out and my legs give out at the sudden bloom of pain. Levi goes down with me, and I fall onto my back. His eyes burn bright, and his fingers snag in the fabric, ripping the mesh. Landon sighs, like he's tired of this, and in a second Levi is gone. Landon hauls him off of me, as Levi snarls and tries to punch him. Landon's too quick, or maybe too used to Levi's temper. He blocks, grabs Levi by the wrist and twists his arm up and behind his back. He shoves him right into the counter by the fridge. Dishes clatter in the cupboards and I scramble to my knees, edging away from them both as I shrink against the oven.