“Your brothers’ idea then,” Perez remarked, his voice as icy calm as if he were ready to use a knife. I stared at him and was glad he didn’t speak my name in that tone. “Sí, it’s not hard to guess who would think of spying. Fools who would rather gossip about iron ores than listen to a Mozart concerto.” Dry amusement echoed as he ran a finger down the front of my shirt and circled my breast, hidden behind the shirt’s linen. I choked as it quickly swelled to meet his hand.
“Still, you must be punished,” he mused, eyeing my nipples as they surged against the rough cloth. “The true question is, who should do the punishment? Myself since you had the audacity to try to spy on me . . . or sus hermanos because you failed to carry out their commands?”
My brothers? I cringed. “I, ah . . .”
“Ethan, how long do you think it would take to properly lesson the lady?”
“A month, Don Rafael?”
Templeton’s hand lifted my breast and squeezed it gently, as if offering a fruit to Perez. Unbelievably, or perhaps inevitably, it firmed more. I hissed slightly as he plucked my nipple casually and it lengthened still further. I had no idea what I was going to do; I’d never felt so helpless, or so sexually aroused.
“Excellent idea, Ethan. Tell me, señora. Whose punishment do you prefer to undergo? A month at our hands or a lifetime with them?” Mr. Perez ran his finger across my cheek. I closed my eyes until I could speak.
“If I underwent yours, wouldn’t I also have to endure my brothers’ after I left your domain?” I managed to say without looking at him.
“Very clever reasoning, señora,” Mr. Perez purred as his touch glided down my throat. “Let me assure you that if you choose mine, then I would ensure that los cretinos would never lift a hand to you again.”
My eyes flew to his face. I’d dance with the Devil himself for a promise like that.
“Never, señora,” he emphasized, and his hand circled my throat lightly.
“Yours then, Mr. Perez,” I croaked. I didn’t know if he could keep his word but it was worth a try.
Both of Templeton’s big hands now cupped my breasts, stretching the hidden nipples between blunt fingers.
“Are you certain?” Perez asked, and began to play with my shirt’s top button. I barely managed not to moan as my body throbbed in rhythm with his touch.
“Yes, damn you!”
“A month should certainly be sufficient to teach you a few manners. The first lesson is that you shall always call me Don Rafael, not the Anglo Mr. Perez,” he ordered as he undid the top fastening.
“Yes, Don Rafael.” I choked, wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into.
“Perhaps we should establish some rules for her stay,” Ethan suggested, his voice a rich tenor next to Don Rafael’s rumbling bass.
“An excellent idea, amigo. What do you have in mind?” A second button yielded to him, leaving much of my chest bare.
“She should have at least three orgasms before she is penetrated by anything larger than a finger or two,” Ethan drawled calmly as his knee slipped between my legs.
I nearly fainted at the thought. More than one orgasm? I had a sudden vision of just how big Templeton’s rod would be, once freed. Even so, it would probably be smaller than what rose behind Don Rafael’s elegantly tailored trousers. My thighs tightened as a trickle of moisture glided down them from my overheated core.
“Three it is then,” Don Rafael agreed, his eyes dancing. He rested his hands on my hips and lightly ran his thumbs up and down the buttons of my fly. My knees all but buckled. I know I swayed and was glad for Templeton’s support.
Don Rafael’s hand slipped down and cupped my mound through the thin cloth. I gasped helplessly as he rubbed me, encouraging cream to flow faster. Templeton kneaded my breasts and nuzzled my neck until my eyelids drooped.
“Tell me, amigo,” Don Rafael purred as he used the seam’s heavier cloth to rack me higher. “Since you set the trap for this little mouse, you shall have the first taste of her. Do you prefer her virginity or her blood?”
Virginity? “I’m no virgin,” I spluttered, hauling my eyes open to stare at the man tempting me.
“Indeed, señora, but there are more virginities to a woman than the one guarding her womb. There is also the first time her throat welcomes a man’s cock.”
I blushed hotly at the memories his drawl evoked and he chuckled.
“And there is also the delight of her back passage,” he went on in a deeper rasp. “Ah, the first time a woman is savored there, her channel like flame and velvet around the fortunate man’s cock. And all the other delights of her body, her breasts, her pussy, and her sweet bud . . . all open and available to his hands. Her climax can be truly incredible then, overwhelming all of her senses.”
I stared at him and reluctantly decided that he spoke the truth. Not for me, of course, but for a few other women somewhere. Neither Don Rafael’s or Templeton’s cocks could possibly fit inside me.
Templeton laughed softly and delicately bit my earlobe. I shivered, lust jolting down my spine from the touch. “Her blood, Don Rafael, if you please. A few drops only so she may serve us both tonight.” Blood?
“You are generous, amigo! Gracias. You shall enjoy her blood and I will partake of her virginity.” Don Rafael took his hand away from me and I bit my lip, determined not to beg for more of his touch. “Now, señora, we move on to the second lesson. You must be taught not to disturb others’ privacy. Bend over the desk.”
“What?” Templeton stepped away from me and I stared at the two men. “What the devil . . .”
“Now, señora.” Don Rafael’s voice was cold and bit like a knife. I remembered my brothers’ idea of punishment and walked slowly to the desk in the corner. It was actually more of a small table except for the leather writing pad and writing instruments on top. Templeton lifted the inkwell and I bent over it reluctantly.
“Move back toward me, señora,” Don Rafael instructed, his hands guiding me. “Bien. Now spread your legs wide. She is beautiful like this, is she not, amigo? Such sweet curves from this angle.”
“Indeed, Don Rafael,” Templeton rumbled, coming up beside the desk to study me.
“Wider still,” Don Rafael murmured. “Perfecto.”
I closed my eyes and waited for the first pain to hit me. Instead, Don Rafael stroked my ass and thighs. I trembled as he explored my nether lips through the wool, teaching them again to melt for him.
“You are damp, señora, but should be wetter still for the heat I want in you. A fire stoked by the drumbeat of my hand on your sweet ass.”
I tried to tighten my legs around his hand and he chuckled and then gave a soft order in Spanish. I ignored that as I wiggled my hips in invitation and Templeton slipped under the desk.
Skilled fingers came to unbutton my fly. I jerked in surprise but Don Rafael’s other hand came down to hold me in place. He caressed me again as more cream flowed from me. I moaned and wriggled and was vastly pleased when those damn trousers disappeared with a sudden rip.
Then Templeton began to stoke my fires. One hand played with my bud, teasing it so wickedly that I swear it doubled in size, while the other delved into my folds like a miner looking for the Mother Lode.
Don Rafael’s first swat was light but echoed against my hunger, building my need for these men. I shuddered and sighed. The second swat was as light but deepened my lust further. I moaned again. “More,” I muttered. “More.”
The swats began to deepen. I didn’t care: I wanted the orgasm that hung so tantalizingly close. If I could only get those male fingers to give it to me, to rub my bud harder, or probe into me further. I knew they could provide it and I began to beg shamelessly, my hips pushing back in desperation.
Don Rafael spanked me until I was burning with need, scarlet with hunger, aching for more of Templeton’s enthralling touch. Fingers dwelt within me while others worked my bud into an aching knot. Cream gushed and ran down my leg. Still, they wouldn’t let me com
e and I cursed them, begged them, then cursed again.
And I screamed like a Comanche war party when the hardest swat of all drove my bud down onto one blunt masculine finger and climax rocketed through every bone in my body. . . .
When I could think again, I was still lying across the desk, my shirt gone, while Templeton unbraided my hair. He combed it loose with his fingers and began to rub my scalp. I purred and leaned into his touch.
“Señora. Or shall I call you Catherine?” Don Rafael rumbled.
“Catherine’s fine,” I agreed before I saw what he held. It was an ivory wand, almost the length of my hand and cunningly carved into a series of bubbles and narrow valleys. He held it by its wide base as he calmly coated it with a thick layer of oil.
“Do you know what this is?”
I shook my head, still staring at the wand. It reminded me of a man’s cock but what could it be used for?
“It is a dildo, of a style designed to awaken lust in the back channel.”
“You’re going to shove that thing into me?” I started to sit up but Templeton held me down effortlessly. I bucked briefly then quieted, still seething.
“It will ease my entrance into you, Catherine,” Don Rafael remarked. “I am showing it to you now only so that you understand that we are men of our word. It would have been very simple to slip it into you while you lay stunned from ecstasy.”
I flushed.
“It is no wider than two fingers, correct?” He stroked my ass with one hand as he displayed the dildo. I realized abruptly that a cooling lotion had been worked into my once-blazing skin. I still burned but it was tolerable, almost exciting.
“Yes,” I whispered. I suddenly realized how much smaller the ivory was than either man’s cock. My breath broke as lust whispered in my belly. “Please,” I whispered, unsure what I asked for.
He smiled at me then and leaned down to kiss me. “You will find us stern but most enjoyable, Catherine.”
“Yes,” I murmured against his mouth. “Yes, indeed.”
His mouth was more delicious than I’d hoped, and I was panting again when he released me. “More, please.” I sighed, turning my head to follow him.
“Ethan, amigo, display her. And distract her a bit, por favor.”
“Of course.”
I squeaked as he gathered me effortlessly up into his arms. To my shock, he was naked to the waist, offering a tempting display of hot satiny muscles to lean against. I wriggled but he nuzzled my hair, then my temple and my cheek. I forgot my surprise and met his lips more than halfway. He kissed like a god, or an angel of seduction. More enticing than anyone I’d met except Don Rafael.
I barely noticed when he sat on the big conference table and murmured contentedly when he lay down on it. Indeed, I slid my hands into his hair and fell to kissing him long and deep, crouched over him like an eager tigress as he stroked my back.
It seemed perfection when he moved his attentions to my breasts. He suckled me hard, drawing me deep into his mouth as if I offered everything he found pleasurable. I arched for the moist heat of his caress and groaned when he worked my nipples into long aching berries.
And I shuddered in pleasure when two more hands played between my folds. My hips began to thrust, hungry to be ridden. A warm, rounded hardness circled against my backside and I pushed against it, blindly eager for more sensation, any sensation. It traced my rose-bud again and again as Templeton suckled me, sending fiery trails down to my belly as others rose from the fingers tracing my bud.
I barely noticed when the wand entered me; I was too greedy for more of those masculine hands and that hard male mouth. In fact, I rocked so hard and long against those knowing hands, pleading for the climax I knew they could bring, that the wand’s entire length traveled into me like a knife into butter.
I cursed like a mule driver when Templeton slid out from under me, ending my delicious climb before I’d reached the peak. I started to roll over and froze when the wand danced inside me. Muscles I’d never known trembled at the inner caress and tremors, almost of bliss, washed up my back and down my legs. I couldn’t have sat up if Satan had nipped at my heels. “Oh, sweet heavens,” I groaned and closed my eyes.
Don Rafael’s chuckle crossed my ears, wicked and knowing. I blushed and tried again to move. He patted my ass gently and I trembled, startled by how his touch seemed to travel up the wand and into my spine. He tapped me again and again and the frisson slipped into my womb, evoking a wave of cream down my thigh. “Excelente, Catherine. You are more than ready to give Ethan what he has earned.”
He scooped me up. I clung to him, too shaken by the ivory temptation inside me to argue immediately. He sat down in the big leather armchair before I could gather words and turned me so my back rested against him. Bare skin heated my back and crisp hair teased me, most of all where my derriere rested against him. . . . And his cock burned against my backside, reminding me of how my womb hadn’t yet stretched for a man that night.
I shuddered and sank my fingers into his arms, laying my head back against his shoulder while I tried to think. But thoughts were beyond me when my body was so desperate for what it hadn’t tasted in almost a year.
Don Rafael spread my legs further until his legs rested between mine. His fingers teased my bud until I moaned. I wiggled restlessly as my breasts ached and his chest hair teased my shoulders.
Then Templeton dropped in front of us and kissed my knee. He lifted my thighs and draped them over the chair’s arms. Don Rafael aided him, opening me like a peach. Templeton began to lick and suck until I was as juicy as the fruit.
“Look up at me, Catherine.”
“Why?” I grumbled but obeyed Don Rafael.
He smiled down at me, then deliberately curled his lip so I could see his teeth. Long teeth at the corners of his mouth.
Fangs? Was that what he’d meant by taking my blood?
Ethan’s tongue circled my bud. I cursed fiercely. Their delay in giving me another climax was far more important than how they meant to enjoy themselves. “Damn you, hurry up!” I snarled and closed my eyes.
Don Rafael chuckled before his tongue bathed my neck again while Ethan hummed against my bud. I gasped when desire pummeled me harder, the wand teasing muscles and nerves into life that I’d never known before. I gushed more and more cream as they stoked me higher and higher, Don Rafael’s hands on my breasts and belly while his mouth worked my neck. Ethan’s fingers played a drumbeat of desire inside my core, stretching me while his mouth played games that tossed me into a frenzy.
I writhed on Don Rafael’s lap, begging and moaning, half insane from the wand’s dance in my backside, promising anything if they’d just finish me. And when I knew I couldn’t bear any more, that I would die if I didn’t reach climax soon, a rough thumb pressed hard on my bud as Templeton bit sharply into my thigh. The sharp pain became pleasure, more intense than anything I’d felt before. I shrieked as the climax tore out of me, racking me to the bone on a thunderclap of ecstasy.
The aftermath was still washing through me when Templeton’s finger found me again. I gasped as a new wave built and crested when Don Rafael sank his teeth into my neck. I threw my head back, offering him any part of me he wanted, and screamed my pleasure like a mare in heat.
I lay sprawled across Don Rafael afterward, dragging air into my lungs like a colt who’d just run the Derby. I was well-pleasured as I’d never thought possible and yet . . . And yet . . .
Splendid as it had been, I wanted more. I wanted cock. I lusted for those large, hard, blazingly hot male organs still denied me. I needed to be filled and stretched until nothing existed but masculine strength driving into me.
I closed my eyes and tried to think of what to say. Thank you for punishing me? Certainly not, although I suspected that I might come to enjoy their style of retribution.
Thank you, kind sir? Not to someone who spanked that hard.
Thank you for pleasuring me but I want more? No, men whose eyes could become th
at frosty probably wouldn’t appreciate requests from a burglar.
Then the damned ivory wand decided to jostle me again. I gasped as my ass clenched involuntarily, sending a cascade of lust into my womb. I groaned something incoherent, a plea for more or less of the torment, while I realized that they could easily stuff me with something larger than the ivory but just as unfeeling. Worst of all, they could probably make me enjoy it.
I was still pondering my options when Don Rafael stood up with a snort. I blinked, pushed my hair out of my face, and stared up at him. “What now?” I mumbled.
“Look at Ethan, Catherine,” Don Rafael rumbled. “His cock demands satisfaction from a woman. Can you provide it?”
Templeton finished setting his trousers on the desk and turned to face me. I moaned greedily when I eyed his cock, a scarlet bar that curved just enough to kiss his belly. He sat down in the big leather armchair, fondling his cock in long slow pulls. A clear drop rose from the tip, then another in silent testimony to his potency.
I hissed my irritation at being so far away from it. Don Rafael set me down in front of the armchair. My mouth watered as I smelled the rich, musky scent of a man’s lust.
I crawled forward the little bit necessary so I could rub my cheek against the handsome firebrand. He jerked slightly when I licked the tip, then caressed my head, playing with my hair. Encouraged, I began to explore it with my mouth and hands, old skills rising to guide me.
Soon he was moaning, long and low, as I worked more and more of him into my mouth and my fingers played with his fat balls behind their furry cloak. Lust rose in me and spiraled into my womb with every sound he made. My clit throbbed, desperate for attention, but I couldn’t tear myself from him to satisfy it.
As I bent over him so I could swallow him deeper, a strong hand slid up the inside of my thighs. I willingly came up onto my knees, humming as my nose brushed his masculine fur. Templeton’s hands tightened in my hair, then gentled into a slow pull and release that matched the rhythm of my mouth on his cock.
The Hunter's Prey Page 3