The spoked wheel holding the manacles spun him this way and that as she struck. With the blindfold on, he had no orientation, nothing but the sensations closing in. Pain, blood trickling down his body, her perfume, coming close, moving back again. The tease of her hand, stroking his cock. Her lips brushing his chest.
Reaction was spiraling up from inside him. An overwhelming sense of panic that caused him to snarl, but his aching jaw was bound up by the hard rubber of the gag. Then he tried to go to that state of stillness, his promise be damned, and found, with true panic, he was too far gone for that. That whip and the rousing touch of her mouth and hands gave him no escape from what he’d allowed her to do. Would allow her to do.
Abruptly, the spinning stopped, her hands steadying his body in front. It took a few moments, but some of the dull roaring in his mind eased off, enough for him to realize that Alistair had put on music, so that he was hearing the drifting and sorrowful “Für Elise.” Soothing. Setting a different tone.
Now when her arm curled around his neck, she brought his head down to hers to play over his stretched mouth with her lips. She’d taken down her bodice, for her bare br**sts pressed against him, the soft, willing flesh against the mark she’d given him. The raven, the all-knowing, all-wise. The bird who knew without knowing. The messenger.
“Shall I let you go, Dev? Or shall I continue?” I’m so aroused, I want to take you right now. You are beautiful, Dev.
Absolutely magnificent.
Like she’d praise a stallion, and bloody oath if he didn’t respond to it. The whip had lashed close to his c*ck several times, but it had never flagged. If anything, even stained with his blood and his body running with sweat, it was hard and heavy, standing up proud near his belly.
A pair of male hands had steadied him from behind when she stopped the bucking of the chains. Now he stiffened a different way as he realized they were not Thomas’s hands. Alistair’s capable, strong palms moved over the welts, digging in a little as his melodious voice offered a sensuous, low chuckle. “It hurts, but he likes it, too, Lady D. It’s almost fate, the way those that like the pain sometimes drop in our laps. I’m just sorry I didn’t find him first.” Don’t let him touch me. I don’t . . . I don’t have any interest in men.
I know you don’t. But I want to see him touch you. It gives me pleasure. One handsome man caressing another. Will you surrender to my pleasure, let it become your own? Feel it, take it for yourself?
He sank his teeth into the ball as Alistair’s touch dropped, stroked his buttocks. He growled in vicious protest, a promise of retaliation as male fingers found his rectum, eased into the area Danny had already greased. The male vampire’s lips pressed against Dev’s nape and he bucked helplessly, his na**d, straining body held between the two vampires. Danny’s hands were on his cock, working him, an irresistible pump that leaked his response onto her fingers. A scraping sound told him she’d pulled a stool around and stepped onto it. When her thighs enclosed his cock, her br**sts rubbing high on his chest, he felt the fabric of her skirt, pulled up but brushing against his groin.
“There’s the spot,” Alistair crooned, and Dev strangled on a cry as his body convulsed at the male’s stimulation in his virgin rear passage. “You’re quite ready for us both. Don’t you think, Lady D? With your permission?” Danny’s breath was soft, shaky, as she worked her cl*t slowly over the length of Dev’s cock, a wicked caress. “You have it, Alistair. Take your pleasure with my servant. And he likes it rough.”
I can’t do this, my lady. Please don’t—
If you called me Danny, I would stop. You know that, don’t you? But you’re torn. Put your mind out of it. Feel how it pleases me to share you with another vampire, knowing you are all mine.
What is it you want? God damn it, what . . .
Your soul, Dev. A third-marked servant must give a vampire his soul. I need to know you can surrender to me enough to take my pleasure, wrap it around you, make it your own. To come for me, and have no concerns about the fact a man is f**king you. To have serving me be what drives all your other desires, no matter what I ask. You know that’s what this is about. Game over. Tonight’s the night you face it, and decide whether to run or stay.
He struggled, he cursed, and yet he could not loose either one of them. They were much stronger, and he was bound. Again he struggled with how she’d given him no warning, little time to prepare for this. It was as if she’d wanted to force the issue so abruptly. Why?
Then the thoughts were pushed away, for Danny reached high, closed her hands around his biceps, adding to the weight against the chains so he groaned. With a flexible athleticism he almost wished he could see, she lowered herself onto his cock. From a shift, another scent, he realized Lady Lyssa was behind her. Was likely holding Danny as she released his arms, leaned back and changed the angle to take him in completely, her legs sliding around his h*ps and then Alistair’s as the male vampire pressed against Dev from nape to arse, and began to guide his thankfully well-lubricated c*ck in between his buttocks. With his ankles chained together, it made the opening that much tighter, and Alistair’s explosion of breath, a sound of pleasure, couldn’t help but remind Dev of when he’d penetrated Danny in a similar way. God, it hurt, it stretched him, but as if his arse knew, the muscles released, let Alistair in, and the sensation rocketed all the way to his testicles.
The hard male grunt, the flex of strong fingers on his hips, the muttered, “There you are, let me in, you gorgeous, tight-assed bugger,” made him want to escape, tune it all out, but Danny was slid down to the root, drawing him up, even as Alistair’s skill in the back was doing the same. He was going to come explosively, harder than he’d ever come in his life, and everyone was getting off on it. He could smell the heavy musk of arousal as if it had blanketed the room.
He was the center of it. Danny gave that to him, opened her mind and let him slide over that waterfall, rush down into the arms of the tumbling waters below. Seeing what she was seeing, the clench of his jaw on the ball gag, the furrowing of his brow, every sweat-glistened muscle from shoulders, to chest, to abs, buttocks, thighs, shuddering from the dual stimulus, his resistance to the typhoon of pleasure that was going to roar over and take him soon.
He moaned against the gag as she looked down, let him see how her cunt was sliding up and down his cock. Lyssa holding her body, letting Danny’s head lie on her shoulder as the vampire queen watched Dev’s struggle, as she might study a particularly amazing sculpture. How he was undulating rhythmically in the chains, caught between the two pistoning bodies like a well-oiled machine. The way Alistair’s hard male body, so like his own, was pressed close, his arm across Dev’s chest.
“After this, you should let Nina clean his c*ck with her little mouth,” Alistair rasped against his ear. “She can make him spew again in no time. Ah, Christ, he’s priceless. He’s still fighting me as hard as any footy player I ever bent over my bed.” Let go, Dev. Let it go. Feel it.
She drew him into the seductive web of her mind again but not to see more images, which were devastating enough. No, this time she let him feel what she was feeling. How f**king aroused she was by all of it, harder and more intensely than she’d ever been aroused before, so that she finally understood the deep fulfillment that came with having a third-marked servant. Something that belonged to her, that she could share, but in the end was hers to take home and f**k however and whenever she wished . . . A servant who got off on her pleasure, by whatever route it came.
Oh, God, she was worked up, spinning, her cunt contracting, milking him valiantly, the thick girth of him as Alistair kept ramming him, burning, mindless pleasure.
Serve me, Dev. Come for me now, upon my command.
He cried out against the gag, an animal scream as the cl**ax detonated. The chains clanked hard and the stool that had been beneath her, which she no longer needed, clattered away as his swinging toes hit it. Both vampires held tight to him, Alistair gripping his forearms below his wrists, his fingers bruising. Another form of manacle that would remind Dev of this moment before the third-mark healing took it away. And Danny, her lovely slick lips working up and down his length as she found her release right after him, her voice lifted in a cry that was musical, like the sigh of the wind across the barren desert, a gift to the ferocious heat. He wished he could see her, for he knew she wouldn’t see herself as he saw her, but he could imagine it. Her body’s angle making the movement of her br**sts an erotic wobble back toward her throat, drawing his gaze onward to the smoothness of Lyssa’s hands holding her, the two women’s hair mixing, black and blond . . .
Alistair released right after, his strokes becoming more punishing, burning like fire, but it was all right, for his working against that pulsing gland had Dev’s c*ck spasming with one more strong release, a final expulsion of fluid into his lady’s cunt that had her crying out again, one of her hands digging into his abdomen, a passing, grasping touch.
Slowly, things settled. Gasping breaths eased, and he felt Alistair’s hands, the bastard’s touch actually fairly gentle as he removed himself from Dev and gave him a passing caress on his buttock, the small of his back. His lady slid from him as well, and he heard the rustle and adjustment of clothing.
“Outstanding, Lady D.” Alistair took another moment to catch his breath. Dev felt his arm slide around his side, the point of his elbow resting briefly on Dev’s waist, the angle of his body suggesting he’d gathered Danny to him in the other arm, and even Lyssa.
He brought them all close together, an oddly sentimental cuddling, Dev sandwiched between all three, so he felt the erotic press of flesh on all sides. “You’ve made a beautiful choice. At least in terms of bedding. The question is, will he be suitable for the rest?” Lyssa’s hand touched his face, stroked briefly over his stretched lips, her nails scoring a welt on his neck made by God knew who.
“Time will tell that, Alistair. Let the poor girl get her breath. It is their business, not ours.” There was an intriguing note to her voice. He wondered if he would have been attuned to it if he hadn’t been blindfolded and all his other senses enhanced by that deprivation. But it made him wonder if Danny had reacted more strongly than even she’d anticipated to the situation she’d created, or allowed Lyssa to orchestrate.