No Limits

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No Limits Page 10

by Nicki Bennett


  “Since Robert showed up,” Kit agreed. “I thought we banished his specter last week when Devon beat him up, but I guess I was wrong.” He sank into his makeup chair, pulling his tunic free carelessly. Stacy and Carol would fuss, but he needed it off. Now. “Could he still be afraid that he’ll treat us the way Robert treated him?”

  It took several deep breaths before Jonathan could even consider Robert without a red haze of anger clouding his thoughts. “That bastard has so much to answer for,” he muttered. “At least he’ll have a harder time getting his sick kicks with anyone else. Addison told me he’s put the word out with some of his friends—the ‘gay grapevine,’ he called it—that Robert is dangerous.” He loosened his tunic enough to pull it over his head, draping it over the chair back. “It still burns me that after the hell he put Devon through, he walked away with nothing more than a sore jaw.”

  “I know,” Kit agreed, “but I don’t know what else we could have done. I’m more concerned about Devon, though. He was just getting comfortable as a Dom again when this happened. I wonder if it’s time to confront him. As much as I love everything we do together, I’m not willing to just abandon the games we played, not when they brought us all such pleasure.”

  A surge of liquid heat spread through Jonathan’s loins, his cock hardening at the memory of the fierce pleasure he had experienced at the beach cottage the first weekend Devon had acted as their Dom. That was an experience he definitely wanted to try again. “We’ll just need to find a way to convince him,” Jonathan murmured, his voice husky with desire.

  Kit’s grin widened. “Oh, I’m sure we can think of something,” he assured his lover, lust pooling in his groin. “Do you suppose greeting him at the door in nothing but our cock rings, with the toy box and his leathers in hand, would do it?”

  The swelling in Jonathan’s groin surged into a full-fledged hard-on at the image of Devon poured into his skintight leathers. “It sure as hell does it for me,” he admitted, standing up and dropping his leggings to pool on the floor. “C’mon, kitten—let’s get ready so as soon as Carol and Stacy are through with us, we can head home to shower and get everything set before Devon gets back.”

  Kit chuckled as he waited for his naked king to dress in street clothes. He knew better than to think they’d get out of the bathroom without making love, but maybe it would take the edge off enough that they would have the patience to convince Devon to claim them again like he had at the beach.

  DEVON TRUDGED up the walk to his rental house, rubbing at a kink in the back of his neck. Brodie and the Orkneys had tried to talk him into going out for drinks when they’d finally finished running through the scene of Lancelot preparing Galahad to be knighted, but he’d begged off. They’d accepted his excuse of wanting to read the new pages of dialogue Niall had distributed, but from the ribald glances they’d exchanged as he headed to his trailer to change out of costume, he knew they were convinced he was off for a wild night with his lovers. Lately, though, he’d lost his appetite for anything more than the most vanilla of lovemaking—if anything about their threesome could be considered vanilla, he supposed. But any thought of games inevitably reminded him of his time with Robert, and although he had finally driven his former master out of his life, it seemed he hadn’t yet succeeded in freeing himself of the taint of his memory.

  No sooner had Devon opened his front door than he found his arms full of energetic Kit. Jonathan closed the door behind him and slid his jacket from his shoulders, gently massaging the knots he found with strong fingers. It would have been a perfectly stereotypical welcome home—if both of them weren’t stark naked and proudly sporting their cock rings around their nascent erections.

  “Welcome home, Sir,” Kit purred, nuzzling Devon’s neck eagerly. It was more forward than a proper sub would have been, but until and unless Devon agreed to their plan, he wasn’t really a sub. “How can we serve you tonight?”

  “You’ve had a long day,” Jonathan added, working around Kit’s clinging embrace to unbutton Devon’s shirt from behind him, letting his cock nudge between Devon’s asscheeks in the process. As soon as he had the shirt halfway open, he burrowed a hand beneath it to find and tease the soft blond pelt coating Devon’s chest. “Tell us how we can please you.”

  Not to be outdone, Kit lowered his head as soon as the skin of Devon’s chest was revealed and nipped sharply at his collarbone, knowing how much Devon enjoyed that little bit of rough. “Tell us what you want,” he added, looking up and meeting the glowing green gaze.

  “Seems to me you’re doing a fine job of conning that out on your own,” Devon managed to comment before Kit’s teeth closed on his shoulder and Jonathan’s hands dipped lower to cup him as he worked open his trousers. The “own” turned into a moan when Jonathan conquered the zipper and slid his slacks down around his ankles, wrapping a callused palm around the quickly engorging flesh he’d uncovered.

  “But think how much better we could do if you’d guide us,” Kit replied, pulling back from the embrace enough to nip at Devon’s nipples, first one, then the other. He glanced over his shoulder at the toy box and leathers sitting on the coffee table. “Everything you need’s right there. Just tell us what you want us to do, Sir.”

  Jonathan could feel Devon tense in his arms when he saw what they’d laid out for him. “Not exactly a pipe and slippers, is it?” Devon grated, turning his head away to gaze somewhere in the direction of the kitchen linoleum. “I don’t think I can go back to that again.”

  “We want it, Devon,” Jonathan murmured against his ear, letting his lips trail down the strong column of Devon’s throat. “We want to serve you, to give you pleasure.”

  “We love every part of you,” Kit added, “including the Dom. And we’ve missed seeing that side recently.” He pressed closer, letting his erection bump against Devon’s. “Do you remember the weekend we spent at the beach? Do you remember how good it felt to take control and bend us to your will? All you have to do is ask and that can be yours again. Either of us, both of us, tied up, spread wide, however you want us, for your pleasure. And ours, luv. Don’t ever think that we don’t want this just as much as you do.”

  The fierce jump of Devon’s cock at Kit’s sinful words made it useless for him to deny exactly how well he remembered. “A man’d have to be dead not to want you—either of you—that way, but I can’t….” He swallowed harshly, searching for the words to explain. “All of that, it’s part of what I’ve finally put behind me. It took years, and both of you loving me, to break free of it… of him… and I still—” He rubbed his face, trying to make them see. “I can’t even think of it without thinking of him, and I won’t let him have one more moment of my life. I won’t let him defile anything to do with either of you.”

  “Then don’t let him steal this from you,” Jonathan argued, pulling Devon back against his chest. “Don’t let him rob you of something that all of us want. We trust you, Devon. We love you, and—” Letting Devon go, he slid to his knees, resting his forehead against his lover’s bare thigh. Gently, he mouthed at the pale hair that gilded it, the same emotional vulnerability he’d felt that weekend at the beach beginning to suffuse him. His voice gentled as he nuzzled Devon’s thigh. “We want to submit to you.”

  “Were you really thinking of him at the beach?” Kit added, dropping to his knees in front of Devon, mimicking Jonathan’s pose. “Was he controlling your actions that weekend? His idea of being a Dom was sick and twisted, and you suffered for that, but that wasn’t how you were with us. Yes, you controlled us. Yes, you mastered us—and we loved it, in case you don’t remember—but you didn’t hurt us. There was nothing of the rat bastard in what we shared then, and there won’t be any of him in what we do now. Unless you keep letting him hold you back. Do you really want to put away your toys, your leathers, that side of you, and pretend it doesn’t exist—that it never existed? I really hope the answer is no, because you promised to expand my horizons, and I don’t think you’ve even reall
y begun.”

  The tight knot that had been squeezing inside Devon’s chest loosened at the sight of Kit and Jonathan voluntarily on their knees before him. He slid a palm under each man’s chin, raising their heads to look deeply and searchingly into each of their eyes. Azure-blue and ocher-brown gazed back at him with total and unconditional love and trust. He caressed each cheek with a thumb, his heart swelling at the magnitude of the gift they were giving him. “What did I ever do to deserve the two of you?” He closed his eyes and vowed to banish Robert’s memory from ever again touching what he shared with these two incredible men.

  “It’s hardly worth putting m’leathers on, is it?” Devon mused, letting go of their chins and stroking one hand slowly over his hardened cock. Jonathan’s eyes had dropped immediately to the floor, but Kit continued to stare at him with a cheeky grin. “I’d only be taking them off again before very long, wouldn’t I?”

  “It’s up to you, of course, Sir,” Kit replied, “but we really hoped you’d wear them. For us?”

  Devon’s gaze turned to the butter-soft trousers and the toy box arranged on the low table before returning to the two men before him; he brushed aside a tendril of hair from Jonathan’s cheek, finding it slightly damp to his touch. “You’ve already showered?” he asked, sorry to have missed the chance to relax his tired muscles under warm water. A guilty flush colored Jonathan’s cheeks, and Devon hid his smile. He knew his lovers too well to expect they could have showered without making love. “Started without me again, did ye?” he growled, catching Jonathan’s jaw in a firm grip and holding it still when he would have dropped his gaze again. “Which one of you fucked the other?”

  “I did,” Kit admitted in a small voice, everything in him reacting to Devon’s show of dominance. “Let us make it up to you,” he suggested meekly. “Let us help you shower.”

  Regardless of whether or not he topped, Kit was a damned bossy bottom, Devon thought. The suggestion was tempting, though. “I’d prefer a soak,” he decided, tapping Kit on the shoulder. “Go and run it for me.” He nudged Jonathan and nodded toward the kitchen. “Get me a drink, and bring it into the loo.” He picked up his discarded clothing and strode toward the master bedroom, never doubting his instructions would be obeyed.

  Kit hurried to the bathroom to draw Devon’s bath. He turned the water on full, adjusting the temperature the way he already knew Devon liked it. Once that was in order, he leaned forward to put the plug in the drain so the tub would fill.

  Entering the bathroom, Devon’s first sight was Kit’s arse facing him as he leaned over the tub. That was an invitation too blatant to resist. Gripping Kit by a hip to steady him, Devon laid a firm slap across one smooth cheek. “That’s for taking Jonathan without my permission,” he rumbled, feeling a tremor run through Kit at the contact.

  “I’m sorry,” Kit apologized immediately, even as he pushed back against Devon’s hand. “But you weren’t here and he begged so sweetly….” He paused, realizing he was probably getting them both in even more trouble. Hiding a grin, he added impulsively, “How was I supposed to resist?”

  “Mouthy.” Devon tsked, striking a slightly harder blow on the other cheek. Kit had clearly been asking for more, and Devon was happy to oblige him.

  Just the way you like me, Kit thought as he wriggled with the slight pain and growing warmth, but he didn’t say anything aloud. There would be time for that later if the situation warranted.

  Holding the tumbler of scotch carefully to keep it from spilling, Jonathan entered the bathroom just in time to see Devon smack Kit firmly. Kit’s low moan and wiggle convinced him the blow was more arousing than painful, and Jonathan found his own cock tightening in response to the spanking. Moving gracefully to his knees, he held the drink out to Devon, his voice quiet as he said, “I hope this will suit, Sir.”

  Devon made note both of Kit’s eager reaction—despite his continued challenging comments—and the hungry light in Jonathan’s eyes as he’d watched the second blow. A scenario began to take shape in his mind as he dropped a hand to Kit’s shoulder, pulling him back to sit on his heels. Devon stepped into the tub and lowered himself carefully, a sigh escaping as the warm water—just the right temperature, he noted with appreciation—covered his tired limbs. “I’ll take that drink now.” He extended a hand languidly to Jonathan, sighing again as the chilled liquor eased down his throat. A man could get used to this!

  Not waiting for another order, Jonathan picked up the soap and began to lather Devon’s feet where they rested on the edge of the tub, massaging the insteps with his thumbs. Devon’s quiet groan sent a shiver of pride through him. He wanted to lean forward and press a kiss to the bend of his lover’s ankle, but he was already acting without Devon’s explicit permission and didn’t want to go too far.

  Seeing Jonathan’s advances being accepted, Kit picked up a washcloth. “May I help you bathe, Sir?” he asked, not wanting to be accused of being cheeky too soon.

  Setting down his drink, Devon leaned forward and allowed the two to wash him, letting the day’s tension fall away at their soothing hands. Jonathan seemed content to wait when they had finished bathing him, but Devon could feel Kit’s nervous energy despite the lad’s best attempt to kneel quietly. Hiding another grin, he rose to his feet, standing for moment to let the water cascade from his body before motioning for a towel.

  For the same moment, Jonathan let himself enjoy looking up at Devon’s toned body, silvery droplets of water defining the strong limbs as they ran downward. Blinking to remind himself that he was supposed to be serving Devon’s pleasure and not his own, he reached for a towel and held it open for Devon to step into, then tucked it around his waist.

  “Would you like your leathers now, Sir?” Kit asked, needing something to do besides just wait. The tension in the air was palpable, and he was having trouble sitting still.

  The air in the tiny bathroom was thick with more than just steam; Devon couldn’t imagine struggling into his leathers in that charged atmosphere. “In the parlor.” He gestured for them to precede him, then reached down to open the drain and adjust himself beneath the towel.

  Kit hurried back into the main living area, eager for whatever Devon had in mind for them. Visions of the hours spent on the porch at the beach assailed him as he tried to imagine what their lover might demand of them this time.

  Once both Kit and Jonathan were kneeling before him again, Devon dropped the towel and nodded at Kit; since he seemed to be the one most eager to see him in his leathers again, it seemed only fair to allow him to help. Especially since it was the last thing he’d be helping with for a while. “Give me a hand getting into these,” he ordered.

  “Yes, Sir,” Kit answered eagerly, grabbing the leathers and holding them out for Devon to step into. Images of how Devon looked in the clinging black pants flitted through his mind, making his mouth water.

  Gripping Kit’s shoulder as he stepped into the supple garment, Devon let him ease the black leather up his legs, stopping him only when he would have pulled them over his hips. “Jonathan,” he commanded their other lover, who was watching with a rapt expression, “get my cock ring from the toy box.” He’d never be able to last through what he had planned without it.

  Jonathan rummaged through the contents of the box, wondering with a twinge of excitement which of the toys Devon might choose to use on them, until he found the smooth leather ring. Kneeling before their master, he held it out on his palm, hoping he might be allowed the privilege of easing it onto Devon’s growing erection.

  “Put it on me,” Devon murmured, running his hand through Jonathan’s silky hair. His grip tightened as careful fingers coasted over his cock, guiding the band over his length until it encircled the base and then pulling it snug, making him thicken even more beneath the firm pressure. Taking a step back, Devon allowed Kit to carefully ease the snug pants the rest of the way up his hips. Carefully doing up the bottom two buttons, he left the rest free, the head of his shaft peeking out from
the open vee. He liked these pants too much to risk staining them.

  Knowing at least Kit’s eyes were on him, Devon slid his palms down the clinging leather, over his hip bones, and back up his thighs, following the split of his fly. He consciously cleared his mind of the day’s stress, of his lingering misgivings, of everything but the smoothness of the grain beneath his fingers and the sensations his own touch transmitted. A successful Dom needed to find the right headspace as much as his subs did, so Devon stilled his mind and just let himself feel, stroking over the planes of his abdomen unhurriedly, trusting Kit and Jonathan to find their own equilibrium as he slowly let himself become comfortable with the role he was about to resume.

  Kit did his best to sit quietly at Devon’s feet, awaiting the next order, the beginning of whatever scene their Dom would dictate, but he didn’t understand the delay. Next to him, Jonathan seemed perfectly serene as he waited, but Kit couldn’t stop his eager twitching. He managed, barely, to hold his silence, but he could not sit still, leaning forward finally to nuzzle at Devon’s groin.

  A touch that definitely didn’t come from his own fingers snapped Devon out of his reverie. Glancing down, he hid a smile as Kit tried to bury his face between the open plackets of his leathers. “Did I give you permission to touch me?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of steel beneath its silk.

  Kit froze, caught in blatant disobedience. “No, Sir,” he said in a small voice, not trying to justify his actions. If Devon wanted an explanation, he would ask.

  “Jonathan,” Devon purred, wondering whether the other man would balk at what he was about to command him to do to Kit, the way he had that first weekend.

  Jonathan raised his eyes from their contemplation of the floor and met Devon’s calmly. A detached part of his mind noted that Devon’s gaze was sharp and decisive, without any of the hesitancy that had colored it the past few weeks, but he pushed the thought aside and answered quietly. “Yes, Sir?”

 

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