Jonathan manipulated my body, so my hips made contact with the chair frame and my breasts were flush against the pony skin. It would scrape my overly sensitive nipples with each stroke. He had Beau stand on one side of me with him on the other.
"Beau, would you like to take your ten strokes at once or shall we alternate?"
Ten strokes each? Bare-handed? Be still, my heart.
"Let's alternate. That might make it more exciting for Missy." The puppy was gone. Beau was all wolf now.
One of them—probably Jonathan—peppered my ass and thighs with fast, sharp blows all over. I could feel the heat building along with the wetness between my thighs. When he stopped to admire his handiwork, he reached between my legs and dragged two fingers up and back along my wet slit before he suddenly curled them up inside me, sending me climbing again.
He pulled out and thrust his fingers into my mouth, filling it with the tangy, sweet taste of my own juices. "Beau, see how wet she is for yourself."
All I could do was suck Jonathan's fingers and moan as Beau reached around and covered my whole pussy with his hand, using the heel to put pressure on my clit as he thrust two long, thick fingers up my cunt over and over as they held me down by my shoulders, pressing my breasts into the pony skin and setting my nipples aflame. I felt myself beginning to climax when Beau and Jonathan withdrew their hands.
"Call out the count." With that, Jonathan let the first blow land at the junction of my thigh and ass with a wicked crack.
Beau mirrored Jonathan's blows, and soon my ass and thighs were burning, my juices dripping down my thighs, and my nipples felt like rocks. Jonathan knew exactly how and where to hit to get the maximum heat and sting to skitter across my tender skin before sinking into my flesh as a dull throb. Unsurprisingly, Beau made up for his lack of finesse with raw strength, courtesy of those delicious shoulder and back muscles. By the time we reached fourteen, my count was an almost unintelligible moan that was rewarded with more finger fucking after each stroke. They had me on the brink, mingling so much pain and pleasure and stimulation that my cunt felt like a balloon ready to pop.
When Beau landed stroke twenty, Jonathan pulled me upright by my hair, kissing me hard. They popped that balloon by thrusting their fingers up my cunt as they sucked and bit my tits, pulling on my nipples. My cunt clamped on their fingers like a vise, pulsing as I rode the wave of pleasure for what seemed an eternity, my words reduced to a soft moan. My world was reduced to these men.
JONATHAN
The way she abandoned herself to sensation was intoxicating. The look of serenity that crossed her tearstained face as she orgasmed over and over was breathtaking, and made my cock hard enough to pound nails. I got such a rush that we had given her that peace, but it was her submission and trust that really got me off. It made all my past playing at dominance and submission feel cheap and foolish. And we had the rest of the night to give her that again and again.
I scooped her up and clutched her to my chest before making my way into my bedroom. I left the lights off. The lights of the city and the full moon were more than enough for our dark purposes. I set Missy on my bed, an antique opium bed I had found and claimed for my own when I moved to Philly. I knew better than to ask how it came to rest in the attic of the Drazen family compound. Undoubtedly it had something to do with one of the less savory aspects of the first Jonathan Drazen's business holdings, but it suited me.
She looked unearthly, thanks to the way the moonlight shining through the latticework of the bed painted patterns on her skin. I spread her damp, inky curls away from her face onto the pillow, their snaky coils making her the most beautiful Medusa. She certainly turns parts of me to stone.
"Let her rest for a minute." I padded out to the kitchen and grabbed some bottled water and a truffle from my secret chocolate stash. Once back in the bedroom, I flipped a bottle to Beau, whispered in his ear, and settled next to Missy. "Pet. Let's sit up. Open your mouth."
I held the bottle while she downed the whole thing, and I followed it up with the chocolate. She took a delicate bite, groaned, then snatched the rest from my fingers in the guise of a quick kiss.
"Better now? Got your strength back? We still have a surprise in store for you. Lay back."
I stripped out of my jeans and boxers, and Beau did the same. The guy was dead serious about following my lead. We moved Missy so her head was hanging off the edge, her hair a black waterfall cascading to the floor. My wish just came true.
I stood right next to her, letting my restless dick tap her lips as her hair brushed my thigh. Beau slid up the end of the bed, using his shoulders to spread her wide, and started working her inner thighs and pussy with his mouth and teeth. At the first touch of his tongue to her clit, she gasped, and I crammed my dick in her mouth. She gagged at the intrusion then caressed my head and slit with the tip of her tongue, sending sparks shooting up my spine. With her head hanging back, Missy's throat was wide open. I held her head and thrust, bottoming out over and over. She was fighting a losing battle to relax and accept my cock, thanks to Beau.
He was devouring her snatch as though it were birthday cake, which made her buck and writhe like a wildcat. The struggle heightened it all for me, and I was perilously close to losing my load down her throat. Beau came up for air and signaled me that she was close. We both quickened our pace, and just as I was about to come, I slapped her breast hard then twisted her nipple, which sent us over the edge together. I came like a freight train, and she gulped as she struggled not to scream. Beau licked and flicked her clit, willing her orgasm to continue.
As the orgasms finally subsided, I knelt beside her, cradling her head as she caught her breath and wept with relief. I kissed her long and hard, relishing the taste of my cum on her lips. Yeah, I may be a sick bastard, but what better way to mark my territory?
BEAU
God. Is there anything sweeter than the taste of a beautiful girl coming hard on your face? Drazen is a lucky guy to have a girl like Missy. I hope he realizes it. If their team wasn't such shit, I'd look into Columbia. But I'm just a guy in for the weekend who she'll never see again. I want to make damn sure she'll never forget me. Judging by the way those sweet thighs squeezed when she came and came and came, I succeeded.
MISSY
Jonathan kissed me like a starving man, tugging at my lip. His tongue explored every crevice of my mouth. I teased his tongue with mine and boldly returned the favor, probably breaking protocol. I had to show him that I hungered for him as well. He broke our kiss to run his tongue along my collarbone, leaving a shivery trail behind. He met my eyes, and with a wink and a smirk, he kissed the tip of my nipple sweetly then stood. That playful gesture was loaded with affection and not a little bit of swagger, and the brief concentrated attention to my poor, overstimulated nipple made my pussy spasm, along with my heart.
Jonathan and Beau switched places. Watching them move around the room as the moonlight washed over them, it really was as if Michelangelo's slaves had come to life; their bodies were so perfectly and gracefully proportioned. Jonathan was already hard again, my mouth's best efforts to bring him relief falling short, and Beau was well on his way to a raging case of blue balls.
Despite his monster hard-on, Beau managed to crouch beside me and whisper in my ear, "Hey, beautiful. You good? I want it all to be good for you. Whatever you want." He stroked my hair so softly, soothing me into a sweet, passionate kiss.
He was earnest and pure, I almost felt bad for dragging him into this intense scene, but then my battered, burning ass reminded me what a natural he was. That thought flew right out of my head when Jonathan sucked on my clit hard. Without letting up the pressure of his mouth, he shoved two fingers in my cunt and pressed on the bundle of nerves on the inside wall, wringing a sudden orgasm out of me. Beau caught my squeal with a kiss of a decidedly different character. Mister Nice Guy was gone, and he was going to work over my poor, tender tits before he'd let me give him some relief.
His dick was l
ong and thick and perfectly straight, a drop of fluid at its tip. I wanted to return the favor and give this beautiful man a blowjob to remember. I stroked its velvet softness, leaned back, and brought the head to my lips. I licked it clean with feather-soft strokes before I slipped my lips over the head and along the shaft, easing my mouth back and forth along it. I found myself unconsciously matching the rhythm of Jonathan's flattened tongue as he relentlessly ran it along my folds , flicking my clit for good measu re .
Suddenly, his tongue was gone, and Beau's rhythm became a little more aggressive. I felt Jonathan's weight on the bed as he crawled between my legs. Beau fucked my face hard, hitting the back of my throat with every stroke. I could feel Beau's climax building, and as he tensed, Jonathan slammed his dick into my pussy with one smooth stroke, pumping steadily as Beau came down my throat.
Beau withdrew and knelt behind me, pillowing my head on his shoulder. Jonathan wrapped my legs around those perfect slim hips of his and rose up on his knees, changing the angle and depth of his penetration. I grabbed Jonathan's hands to steady myself find my center as I tried to meet him stroke for stroke. Beau was my tether as Jonathan set me flying. Jonathan drove into me faster and faster, and I felt that balloon of tension filling my pelvis and threatening to explode. Jonathan pulled almost all of the way out then slammed his way to my core, slowly and deliberately—
One.
Two.
Three times.
My climax exploded in waves of light, of sound, of sensation. I clung to Jonathan as the pulsing energy threatened to spin me apart. I shattered again and again, a faint keening in my ears, floating back into Jonathan's arms as the waves of feeling subsided and I felt peace.
JONATHAN
"She's in subspace. She'll need some water when she comes back to us." I carried her to the chaise in the bathroom, cleaned her the best I could without disturbing her, and brought her back to my bed.
Beau was already partially dressed and had water and chocolate on the bedside. "Mind if I crash in the guest room? It's kind of late to get back to the hotel. She's going to need you, and not just tonight. Don't fuck it up." Beau kissed Missy on the forehead, looked at me pointedly, and ducked out.
I settled her into bed and watched the quiet, snow-covered city from my penthouse aerie, contemplating Beau's advice for what seemed like hours. Missy roused enough to accept some water and chocolate, and I finally joined her in bed. I pulled her close and let sleep take me.
MISSY
The gray light of dawn creeping through Jon's window woke me. He was sound asleep, sheltering me with his body, one of his beautiful, talented hands resting on my naked hip. The memory of what that hand had done to me mere hours earlier flooded my senses, and I knew I needed to leave immediately. Staying would only complicate things. I paused to drink him in, trying to capture the moment—utterly relaxed and boyish, his beautiful jade eyes hidden by a fringe of copper-colored lashes, a curl of burnished hair pressed against his temple—before I carefully extricated myself from his embrace. I crept out to the main room, almost losing my resolve as I gathered my strewn wardrobe and attempted to dress without rousing Beau. Thankfully, he had retreated to a guest room at some point. In a moment of weakness, I left a note.
Jon,
"Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories..."
Thank you for the early spring.
M.
I managed to slip out and made my way back to the dorm unnoticed, successfully avoiding getting caught making the Sunday morning walk of shame.
Over the next few days, I tried to lose myself in the daily grind, avoiding the Sports Complex as much as possible without drawing unneeded attention. I was using work to avoid thinking about what had happened, but Jon Drazen kept creeping into my thoughts and dreams. I definitely wasn't ready to see Jon and pretend nothing happened—or worse, see him with a flavor of the week—especially with his marks all over my body. That thought made me physically ill.
I had to wear my hair down all week to cover the love bites along my jawline and neck, but they held my fascination when I was alone. As the week went on, the bruises faded, leaving me inexplicably sad. Actually, there was a perfectly good explanation for my sadness, but I refused to acknowledge it.
I’d figured that it would take me a few days to school my reactions to him, then no one would realize that things had changed between us. Saturday had been, for all intents and purposes, a negotiated scene—a very successful one at that—but I couldn't shake the feeling, and fear, that it had been something more.
All the thinking that I was unsuccessfully trying to avoid brought me a moment of clarity. After last Saturday, it was clear that I needed more adventure complete with laughter, wrong turns, and skinned knees. All of those had been in short supply since Mom died. To ensure the laughter, I would have to share the journey. Jon was a complication I truly didn't need, but I nevertheless longed for. A brilliant, sexy, charismatic man on the brink of becoming someone entirely new. Lucius had already found his way in life and the bedroom. He already owned his place in the world and decided on the type of woman that would fit into it. With Lucius, I'd feel like a doll he could bend and mold into a model submissive for his world. The process—and it was a process, complete with a virtual checklist and progress reports—was all Germanic efficiency, no detours, no mistakes, indulgence but little deviation from his plan. Jon's a kindred spirit. We could explore and experiment together without the burden of a "plan." I need to shake things up and throw away the checklists and routines. Can I survive the cataclysmic changes someone like Jonathan Drazen would bring to my life? Probably not. It was a moot point. Bailing before dawn had made it abundantly clear to him that Saturday was a one-time thing.
Then Saturday rolled around again, and I couldn't avoid an appearance at Kovac’s. Lucius would be sure to hear about it if I dropped off the radar, and nobody needed that lecture. I made my way to Kovac’s, sporting my favorite chunky knit, black turtleneck, a black hobble skirt, and my beloved Docs. A bourbon in hand, I queued up a melancholy mix of The Smiths, Aztec Camera, and Kate Bush. I settled onto my regular stool and started working on a new plan. The Jonathan plan was a non-starter. Maybe one of the art school hang outs—the conservation lab girls were always after me to join them—meet some people. Maybe next week. That was as good a plan as any.
The door flung open, and cold air jolted me out of my half-hearted scheming. A familiar hand clutching my black beret suddenly appeared in my peripheral vision. The scent of sandalwood and Jon athan Drazen engulfed me, making me giddy.
He leaned over my shoulder and purred directly into my ear, the vibration making me wild, "You forgot something." I turned toward his voice, and he captured my mouth, kissing me so thoroughly he silenced all the protests bubbling to my lips. "You left without saying good-bye."
"No, you forgot something. We agreed. We can't—"
He put his index finger to my lips and shushed me. Smart man. Don't let me talk myself out of this. The square inch of contact was too much. I unconsciously parted my lips oh so slightly, welcoming him in.
"We agreed that we have to be discreet. That's it. And I have been and will always be. The last thing we need is for the team or my family to find out what we are to each other. The fallout would be epic."
"What are we—to each other?" It was barely a whisper.
"Such a question from the girl who quotes An Affair to Remember. That is not a discussion that I am willing to rush through in public. But know this—our scene last week taught me something. I learned that I'm willing to do things with and for you, I might not otherwise consider. I also learned that I don't like to share. I especially don't like to share you." He stepped back and held out his hand. "We have so much to teach each other. You're coming?" His commanding tone turned the question to a promise.
I looked at his hand then into those beautiful tourmaline eyes, and I saw my world of alternatives there. I put mine in his, and we walked out into the snowy ni
ght to figure the rest of it out together.
PLAYLIST
This Charming Man by The Smiths
Spanish Bombs by The Clash
Shout to the Top by The Style Council
Don't Go by Yaz
Alone Again Or by The Damned
Cities in Dust by Siouxsie and the Banshees
Ccccan't You See by Vicious Pink
Sea of Sin by Depeche Mode
#1 Crush by Garbage
This Woman's Work by Kate Bush
How Men Are by Aztec Camera
Midnight by Yaz
Reel around the Fountain by The Smiths
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you, Christine, from the bottom of my heart, for all the love and faith you've shown by entrusting your beloved Drazens to the hands of fledgling writers like me. Living with Jonathan Drazen's voice in my head for the last few weeks was the scariest, sexiest fun I've had with my clothes on. You're a lucky woman to have had him all to yourself for so long. I hope I've done him and you justice. Thank you for the beautiful cover as well. I've always dreamt of having my name backed by your beautiful wall of words. It means the world to me.
The Drazen World: The Lesson (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4
