by Kathryn Moon
Amon continued fucking me through his finish, the roar softening to a purr, his motions slowing, growing shallow. He tucked his knees beneath me, arms wrapping around my shoulders, his nose nuzzling against my jaw.
"That ought to leave you satisfied for a few hours," Amon murmured.
I snorted and turned my head to pull a kiss from his mouth. "At least," I said. I was well spoiled lately.
Amon sighed and rolled us, his wings tucking and then vanishing altogether, hook pulling a little inside of me. He would soften and it would ease out like any other cock, but I liked the way it held us together after the act was finished.
"I'll plan the dinner for the week's end. Give you a few days with the others," Amon said, kissing my brow.
I frowned and wiggled in his hold so I could lean far enough back to meet his eyes. "I wish you all didn't feel like you had to negotiate time with me."
Amon's lips quirked. "If we didn't, it would be a constant competition. You'd never get any rest. Let us be civilized about the matter until it grows easier."
I sighed and set my chin on his shoulder. "I suppose."
"Ah, I am shocked. No protestations of not needing rest? Is my little star growing weary of us already?"
I nipped his skin, and Amon chuckled. "Your little star is growing satisfied and discovering that there is more to your company which she enjoys other than just sex," I said.
Amon's sigh was slow and long, turning us again to our sides. He pressed kisses over my brow, my nose, across my cheeks, and down to my lips. "Then we are very lucky men indeed. All the more reason to be sure to continue our successes."
I hummed and softened, content with the little kisses and caresses. More than content. These emotions I kept discovering were deeper than satisfied and richer than happy. This was being cared for, being cherished. I stroked my hands up and down Amon's back, returning the gestures, determined to make sure he felt the same.
"I thought Esther said she was going to meet us," Cassie said.
The fingers over my mouth tightened, my eyes blinking wide at the partly open door of the study. Inside me, the cock began to move again, and I swallowed my whimper at the obscenely wet sound of the movement, sure that the girls in the hall would hear and discover me.
"Maybe she's downstairs. But she's got her hands full these days," another girl answered, and the group of them giggled, Ezra taking the opportunity to slap his hips into mine under the cover of their voices.
"You want them to walk in, don't you, puisín?"
My eyes squeezed shut at the hissed question. He was right, of course. I was dizzy at the thought of one of the girls walking in, seeing me pressed against the wall, my skirts bunched up around my waist, legs hanging in the air and exposing me for anyone to see.
Ezra had snuck under the breakfast table, teasing me under my skirts with his fingertips while I tried to carry on a conversation with the other ladies of the house. Even as I'd agreed to join them on a walk around the lake, I'd known what would happen. Ezra had caught me on my way back down from my rooms, shawl in hand, boots on, and dragged me into the study alone.
Their voices carried down the hall with their footsteps, and Ezra pulled his hand away just as his hips began to snap faster, harder.
"Look. Look at yourself," he grunted.
My eyes opened, and I let out a groan at my own reflection in the mirror across from me. Ezra was pressed into me, holding me up against the wall with his mass, but there was no sign of him there, just the picture of my flushed, panting face, and pulsing, wet cunt, my inner thighs marked with the imprint of his body. Ezra had one of my hands pinned to the wall, and I was bracing the other against a shelf on my right, my dress scratching and whispering against the wallpaper with every one of his thrusts.
"I'm gonna come, puisín," Ezra panted. "I'm gonna come, and I'm not going to get you off. I'm going to leave you dripping and aching. Don't you fucking touch yourself. You leave your pleasure up to us now, you hear?"
I moaned, brow furrowing, wiggling with irritation at the order. But I loved it too. The demand, the denial, knowing it would always be satisfied by one of them eventually.
"Oh fuck, this sweet little pussy's going to kill me," Ezra said, words tightening to a whine, rhythm going uneven.
And the bastard was right. I felt wonderful, buzzing and thrilled, aching and just a little ways away from coming. But not fucking close enough.
Ezra smothered my mouth with his, forcing me to swallow his groan as he shuddered and flooded me with heat, buried as deeply as he could fit, pushing achingly inside of me.
I glared at the reflection of myself in the mirror, creamy release sliding to my opening as Ezra pulled away panting. He appeared in front of me, eyes a little glassy with pleasure, face flushed, and he glanced over his shoulder with a soft laugh.
"Now, I have a little game in mind," he said, eyes glinting. He hefted me into his arms, carrying me over to a couch and setting me down on the arm of it. "You're going to lay here, just like this," he said, pushing my shoulders down into the cushions, my hips remaining raised and naked. "Mmm…yes, just like this. And you're going to wait and see who finds you first—"
"Ezra!" I squeaked, as he patted at my wet sex.
"—and then you're going to beg them to get you off. And, puisín, I'll be watching. I'll know if you don't do as I ask."
"Ezra, I can't!" I said, laughing and trying to sit up, but he just jumped around, pushing my shoulders back down and vanishing again. "What if—what if it's Magdalena or one of the other butlers or the girls or…or someone else's gentleman!"
"Esther, your mouth is about to be full of my cock if you don't do as I say," Ezra snarled, still pinning my shoulders. "Stay here, like this, and behave."
I gaped at him, or where I thought his no doubt smirking face was, and crossed my arms over my chest. Fine, I would lay here and let Ezra embarrass me a little, but I certainly wasn't about to beg anyone who wasn't one of my gentlemen. I bit my lip as a stray thought snagged in my head.
"What if it's someone…not nice?" I asked.
Ezra hummed and bent, kissing my forehead. "I'm here, aren't I?"
I rolled my eyes, but he was right, he wouldn't let anyone hurt me. And if this went poorly, I could enjoy the satisfaction of telling on him to Auguste or Amon.
"Good girl," Ezra said, and I tucked a cheek against my own shoulder as if I could hide my blush of pleasure. "Now let's just make sure you'll beg."
I groaned and squirmed as Ezra reached between my legs, swirling his fingers over my clit, summoning back the arousal that had faded until my hips were rocking into his touch.
He pulled away with a chuckle, and the couch shifted as he rose. "That should do it. Just relax. Nice and pretty."
"See if I ever suck your cock again," I muttered under my breath. I would. Ezra knew me a little too well. There was a strange kind of delight at the idea of being caught like this by anyone, of being forced to beg a stranger or one of the girls to touch me. Would Ezra really let me go through with it? Would I go through with it?
Probably, I admitted to myself.
Absently, I brushed a hand over myself, toward my center, itching to relieve the ache, and Ezra's tut of warning echoed in the room, my hand whipping back up toward my head.
"What if no one comes?" I asked suddenly and was immediately hushed.
And there, in the hall, came the sound of footsteps, heavy on the floorboards. Blood rushed into my cheeks. Shit. Shit, this was going to happen. I was going to be caught, skirts up, pussy wet, and then I would have to—
The steps sounded closer, slow and steady, and my eyes searched the room for an invisible Ezra, waiting for him to snap the door shut and end the joke. Which might not even be a joke. I opened my lips and then pressed them shut again just as quickly.
Oh dear, I wanted this. I was a little terrified, a lot ashamed, and very possibly going to get into a great deal of trouble if I had to beg someone else's monster to touch me, bu
t my heart was racing and my cunt was throbbing with just the idea of it. You are depraved, I thought. And hopefully, my men would forgive me.
A massive figure appeared in the doorway, filling its frame with broad shoulders. Familiar shoulders.
A great giggling gust escaped me at the sight of Booker, blue eyes blinking and immediately landing on my cunt.
"Oh, thank God, Booker, please. Please, please, please. Touch me. Fuck me. Booker," I rushed out in a whine, trembling on the couch.
Booker's lips twitched at my begging, but he marched calmly forward, hands already on the waistband of his pants, opening it quickly, his cock rising at my call and peeking out. All the anxiety, embarrassment, and excitement blended into a sudden cascade of relief and heat.
"Oh god, yes, Booker, please!" I cried out the moment he stepped between my spread thighs, cool touch wrapping around my hips.
There was no preamble, just the obedient push of his cock inside of me, and both of our groans rising. Booker fucked me like he was one of Jonathon's inventions, steady and reliable, perfect pressure to make me simmer and squirm. One of his thumbs grazed toward my clit, but it only teased at the edges.
"Keep her at the edge, Booker."
My eyes widened at the sound of Jonathon's voice, and I sighed as the door of the study clicked shut. "Oh, you bastard, you planned this," I gasped out, Ezra's chuckle answering the obvious.
"Of course he did. As if we'd allow anyone else to touch you," Jonathon said, his smile playful as he rounded the couch, coming to kneel at my head. He pushed a pillow under my shoulders and arched an eyebrow at me in question, hands on his waistband.
"Fuck yes," I hissed, moaning as Booker tickled around the edge of my clit again and Jonathon unfastened his pants, drawing out his cock.
"Any last words, love?" Jonathon asked, and his grin looked especially wicked upside down like this, his hand stroking his cock until it offered me a dewy droplet on its head.
"I want Auguste to taste you in me tonight," I said, triumphant as Jonathon's eyes flared green.
I stretched for them both and one of Ezra's invisible hands found its way inside the collar of my dress to pinch at a nipple, making me squeak around the head of Jonathon's cock.
He fed me his length with steady patience, making me suck and lick at every inch before offering me another. I reached up to work his sac gently in my hands, humming at the clean taste of him. How like my gentle doctor to ready himself for my sake before fucking himself into my throat.
"Yes, yes that's it," Jonathon said on a sigh. "Whenever you like, Booker. And as often as you can make her. Keep her crying on me."
I had one quick moment to catch my breath, and then Booker's cock shifted higher and his thumb swirled deliberately around my clit, pressing it and rubbing it in place as I thrashed and came with a cry.
"We're going to get caught if you make her shout like that," Ezra said with a chuckle.
"Good," Booker growled, fucking me faster, driving me up to another peak before I'd finished my float down from the first.
"Let them see," Jonathon gasped, his fingers tightening in my hair as he started to carefully move. "See how well our wicked little girl takes us."
Chapter Twenty-Six
A Dinner Party
It was hard to recall that life at Rooksgrave had ever been lonely, that any day of my life might ever have been. I had company every minute it suited me, games and conversation, and a hand in mine as soon as I reached for one. Sex as soon as I thought of it too, which was made lovelier by how well my men were learning me and I them.
Amon joined us for dinners, which I made with Auguste, usually with the help of one of the others. Jonathon schemed with Ezra. Ezra joked with Booker, even when we weren't sure if Booker understood. There was unity amongst us, and I'd never had anything like it before. Something like family but even more wicked and lovely.
"It was…thoughtful of Amon to wait for dark," Auguste mused in the carriage we rode in on the way to Amon's house at the end of the week.
I set my cheek on his shoulder and nodded with a smile. Booker and Ezra were squeezed into the seat opposite us, Jonathon holding my hand on my right. Ezra was mostly solid, although I could tell when his mind wandered because he quickly faded.
"Ez, you mustn't take anything while we're there," I said, sitting up suddenly.
Ezra winked out for a moment before reappearing with a toothy grin. "How'd you know what I was thinking of?"
"Because it was the same look you had when you tried to steal the pocket watch off the imp last night," I answered.
"I should've let him bite you," Auguste said, but he was laughing at Ezra.
"I'll behave," Ezra said, shrugging, but his eyes slid away.
"You will not," I sighed out.
"He will or Mr. Tanner will have his ass," Jonathon muttered.
Ezra's eyes widened at the threat. "Have how?"
"Does it matter?" Jonathon parried, and Ezra paled and then faded a bit.
"S'pose not."
I snorted, shaking my head, and then choked at the view outside of the carriage window. "Oh, Christ."
Auguste leaned forward to look, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Mm. Yes, that's nice. What were you expecting?"
"He's just one man! Sphinx. You know what I mean. How can he need all of that?" I asked, gaping at the enormous palace-like structure we were riding up to. It was at least as big as Rooksgrave, which seemed to hold a whole village inside when it came to life at night, but much brighter and wider.
"He's a showoff," Ezra answered easily, and Booker grunted with what might've been agreement or admonishment for all I could tell.
"He would want to impress you," Jonathon said a little more fairly.
In the service world, a house like that would've been one of the nicest places you could work. Housemaids were all generally the same, but one here would still outrank me in my old position. I had a funny feeling as we approached the great stone home, candles lit in every ornate window, all the way up into the turrets, that I would be denied entry. Even the back door would be too good for a girl like me.
I swallowed hard and then looked across the seat at Ezra, who was eyeing the house with narrow-eyed speculation. He glanced at me, and I knew at that moment that we were equally ill at ease. This wasn't a place for us.
And yet…
I took a deep breath and Ezra mirrored me, his eyebrows waggling.
"Imagine it," he murmured and I nodded, my smile blooming.
"Imagine what?" Auguste asked, glancing between us.
I patted his knee and shook my head, "Nothing. Just…imagining."
Imagining that I could walk in through that enormous front door with my head held high, not as a maid but as Amon's guest. That I could sit at his dinner table and be served, rather than one of the many scurrying lives under the house that kept it running. That I could sleep in the sheets in some fine bed, pretending to sleep as some young girl started a fire in the hearth before dawn so I would be warm when I rose for breakfast.
The doors were already opening as the carriage pulled up to the long, wide stairwell. It had been considered Jonathon's turn to dress me for the night, and he'd chosen something I suspected was a concession to Amon's taste. Considering the long white gown, draped and silky around me, didn't call for a corset, I was more than happy to oblige in wearing it. It flowed around me, hanging from two golden clasps at my shoulders in the shape of a moon and sun, tucked and tailored carefully to draw in at my waist before swishing loosely around my hips and legs.
"Bit Grecian for an Egyptian," Auguste had mused, making Jonathon sniff.
"Semantics."
Whatever that meant, Jonathon appeared to be right. Amon greeted us himself, matching me in long white pants and a golden tunic that bared a glimpse of his smooth chest. He stopped still as Ezra handed me out of the carriage, studying me in such detail it made my skin prickle.
"What a gift you are, my star," Amon said, stride
liquid as he descended the last few steps, greeting me with extended kisses over either side of my throat. "I can barely wait to unwrap you."
"You don't have to," I breathed out, and all my gentlemen stifled their laughter.
"True," Amon agreed with an indulgent smile. "But then I might not stop until you were too weak to take more, and you deserve a good meal in you before we start all that."
I opened my mouth to ask for the specifics on 'all that' and then jumped with a squeak as Auguste pinched my side, shaking his head in warning.
Fine, I would play the part of the lady for the time being. At least I wasn't suffering impatience alone. With every step I took up to the doors, someone's touch brushed against me, all of five of them as greedy for contact as I was.
Amon's home was brilliant and open, so well lit with candles it could've been daylight, all the warmth from the small flames soothing me in my thin dress. There was no sign of a nearby servant, but Amon didn't seem the sort to manage on his own, so perhaps they were instructed to keep out of our way, or maybe they were like the pixies at the theater, too small to note.
"They are setting dinner now. Would you like a drink or a tour, my star?" Amon asked as I gaped up at the spiraling staircase to the upper story, at the vase overflowing with lilies.
Amon and Auguste had a similarly lush and lavish taste, it appeared, with bright, open spaces.
"I'll take a tour," Ezra offered.
"Drink," I countered immediately, wondering how much Ezra could sneak into his pockets on a tour.
Amon grinned at me, taking my hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm. "This way."
I glanced at the others, relieved to see that Booker had his hand on Ezra's shoulder, keeping him with our party and unable to sneak off.
I licked honeyed alcohol off my upper lip, my eyes flicking up to catch Amon's at the opposite end of the table, through candlelight and over heaps of fresh fruits and perfectly tender meat. Auguste sat to his right, the two of them chatting occasionally, often while staring at me, and I was surprised Amon had placed Ezra to his left. Although that was perhaps to keep an eye on him. Amon had a permanent smile on his mouth through dinner, reminding me of the man I'd met in my desert dream again.