by Raven Dark
I turned to my two masters, who both watched him leave, looking like their pride lion had just refused the prime kill. Nervousness ate at me. Would I pay for failing to interest their leader? Unsure what else to do, I dropped my arms helplessly.
Both men came over to me but glanced at each other.
“What bug got up the General’s crack?” Steel muttered.
Pretty Boy frowned. “Weird, right? Sheriff never refuses a kiss from the hot new meat.”
It had to do with Damien, I was sure of it. I’d heard something in Sheriff’s voice when he’d said his name. Something like hatred. Last night, one of them said Damien was Sheriff’s mortal enemy.
For the second time that day, it felt like someone didn’t want me there. The difference between Sheriff and Cherry was that I wasn’t sure I wanted to try changing Sheriff’s mind.
As the night continued and the darkness over the Grotto grew deeper, much of the reservation that restrained the men up to this point began to slip away. Drink flowed more freely, so that by the time several hours had passed since I’ve arrived, half of the men were drunk or getting there. A few were already laid out on the field, looking like they were high on something. Here and there, brawls broke out in slurred speech and sloppy punches. Dread chewed at my insides. How long would it be before they looked to the entertainment staff for services?
Still, much as the growing rowdiness left me unsettled, the free-spiritedness, the camaraderie between these men fascinated me. I certainly saw what people meant when they labeled road warriors as savages, but that same lack of discipline created a freedom I couldn’t help but envy, one impossible among the J’nai. Families like Damien’s clung to professionalism and stiff reserve like a lifeline.
Cherry stopped by to take the two children off to bed, pausing to flash me a mocking smile.
“Having a good time, Violet?” She took in my current position; I was sitting on a blanket on the grass between Pretty Boy’s legs while he slowly ran his lips up and tongue down along my neck, lazy, hot kisses that ensured the memory of last night was never far from my mind.
Unwilling to rise to her bait, I said nothing. Still, when Pretty Boy tugged my head back and started eating at my mouth, I wished he’d waited until she was gone, knowing what she thought.
“Trouble with Cherry, Princess?” he asked when she left. His lips teased mine.
“Yes, Master.”
His tongue flicked inside. That now familiar ache started between my legs, as I imagined that tongue giving my clit the same treatment. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Oh Maker, I hoped not. I didn’t want to make a thing out of it. If he chose to talk to her, things would only get worse.
When a band started playing in the clubhouse, my masters headed inside and pulled me onto a couch with them near the back of the room. I leaned with my back against Pretty Boy’s chest, trying not to ponder too closely the safety I felt being there.
Beer in hand, Steel flopped onto the couch and lay with his head in my lap. “Still no sign of Hawk, huh?”
“No.”
For which I was grateful.
“I’ll go find him. It’s about time I saw him with her.” He started to get up.
“I wouldn’t.” Pretty Boy’s mesmerized tone made me glance over my shoulder at him. His eyes were transfixed on something halfway across the room. He gave a nod toward whatever it was. I followed his stare. As soon as I did, my cheeks burned.
The same woman I’d seen yesterday with Patch—Diamond or something—knelt naked in the middle of one of the pool tables. Her legs were spread open and a man—Patch, by the anchor tattoo on his biceps—lay with his head between them. The table stood at the perfect level to allow the men sitting around the room a perfect view. Patch’s tongue toyed with her clit, while she rocked her hips slowly.
Holy flaming Maker. I tore my eyes away, every muscle in my body tightening. My mind filled with images of Pretty Boy licking away at my sex, intensifying the ache there.
“Now this is my favorite part of these shindigs,” Pretty Boy murmured in my ear. His fingers grabbed my chin, keeping my gaze on Diamond and the man pleasuring her. “No, don’t look away, little slave. Watch Patch make her come like the whore she is.”
I wanted to hate hearing him insult a woman that way, but it only brought back the memory of him and Steel saying the same thing about me while they used me last night. The filthy words and the way they’d said them had made me wetter, and now the memories of last night made my nipples bunch until they poked at my dress.
Eyes locked on the scene before me, I watched Patch’s tongue tease Diamond’s clit, slide through her folds, and then tease again.
She raised her hips, trying to pull away, I thought, but his hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place. His tongue circled and licked.
“Shhhhhit….” Diamond hissed. She tossed her head, nails digging into Patch’s chest. Her hips started to rock. His hands clapped her buttocks hard and she cursed again, head back.
“See how she wants it?” Pretty Boy whispered against my neck. “He knows she wants it, so he keeps her there, eating what’s his.”
My own breathing filled my ears, heart thudding hard. His words had me running my hand over his jawline, trying to bring his lips closer to my skin.
At some point, Steel had sat up, and as I fell back against Pretty Boy, Steel leaned over me. His mouth and tongue left wicked trails over my bare shoulders and neck. Pretty Boy no longer held my chin in place, but he didn’t have to. I couldn’t have torn my eyes away for anything.
Patch’s hands roved over Diamond’s plump, tanned breasts, tweaking her dark nipples while his tongue flicked faster. Diamond moaned, and her hips sped up. My gaze became transfixed on the sight of his wet tongue spearing her, every stroke making her crazier.
“Let me see your tits,” Steel commanded. While Pretty Boy continued to whisper in my ear, Steel’s fingers made quick work of the knot at the back of my neck keeping the top of the dress in place. When it was undone, he yanked the front of my dress down, baring my aching breasts for his view. He palmed them, pinching each nipple until I whimpered at the sting.
“Don’t take your eyes off Diamond and Patch.” Pretty Boy waited until I set my eyes on them again. On Diamond, who was riding Patch’s tongue wildly now. Pretty Boy took the hem of my dress in his hands. “Lift your hips.”
For an instant, self consciousness, and with at least a handful of men near us watching me, a measure of trepidation worked its way through the haze of desire thrumming through me. Then one of two things happened. Either it was Pretty Boy biting the side of my neck hard enough to make me almost cry out, or it was the greedy way Patch’s woman was coming on his tongue that became too much. I was suddenly too fueled with lust to care who saw me.
I lifted my hips up and let Pretty Boy pull the dress up, and then over my head before tossing it aside, Steel drawing back long enough for him to strip me.
I had a chance to see Patch give Diamond a few more licks before Diamond’s hips gyrated once more and she cried out. She rode out her orgasm, hardened nipples pointing to the sky.
Holy Light, I’d never been attracted to females, but watching a woman being licked to release had to be the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. My whole body burned, ached to feel Pretty Boy’s or Steel’s tongue stroking me.
I wanted both of them equally, enough that when Steel’s tongue started playing with my nipple, and Pretty Boy’s fingers started circling my soaked clit, I arched my back for one and spread my legs for the other.
In that instant, I no longer cared that they were road warriors, from a way of life so removed from mine that it might have been a whole other world. I no longer cared that they’d taken me from all that I knew. All I wanted to do was feel, to let go and lose myself to the moment with them.
“You enjoyed that little show, didn’t you?” Desire turned Steel’s voice to a graveled rasp. His massive palm slid into my hair,
his big fist yanking it back while his teeth grazed the hollow of my throat.
“Yes, Master,” I panted.
“She did,” Pretty Boy said. “Feel how wet she is.”
Steel’s fingers stroked my folds. “Mm.” He shoved my hand down to his crotch, making me finger the rock-hard bulge filling the front of his pants. “See how hard you make me? By the time we’re done using you tonight, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
The words should have shaken me out of my lust, but with both of them driving me mad, his promise only fueled my need.
I closed my eyes as Pretty Boy stroked my sex with two slow fingers. He lubricated my clit with my juices and alternated his pace between fast and slow so that I couldn’t acclimate to his touch.
Movement in front of me made me open my eyes, momentarily distracting me. Blood racing with need, I’d forgotten we weren’t alone, that the room was filled with men, now with all eyes on me, yet I only half noticed them when I saw them. My focus was on the man who’d seated himself in the empty leather chair across from me.
Sheriff.
I swallowed, some of my desire cooling.
“Nice view, boys.”
I blinked, realizing he was talking to my masters. Steel looked over his shoulder at his superior, then stood up and took position on the couch beside his friend.
So that Sheriff could watch, I realized.
Pretty Boy didn’t miss a beat. He slowed his strokes, and when I tried to close my legs to Sheriff’s cool view, he jerked my knees apart and bumped me forward so that my hips were in a new position that gave a better view of me.
“Don’t hide from our general, Princess. Let him see you.”
Two times, I’d encountered Sheriff, and both times he’d behaved as if he’d rather ingest a prickly cactus than spend any time near me. I meant to sneak a look at him, assessing his reaction to me, but my eyes snagged his, and then became trapped in that magnetic gaze.
Apparently, my eyes didn’t have the same sway over him, because his stare left a heated trail down my body until it stopped between my legs, where Pretty Boy stroked and circled my clit, gliding his fingers through my folds.
I licked my lips, feeling my own legs widening for Sheriff’s view, my hips rocking forward against Pretty Boy’s hand with a will of their own.
Betrayed again.
Silent, Sheriff sat back in his high-backed chair, elbows on the arm rests, hands folded loosely in front of his mouth, making it impossible to tell what his expression was beyond the lust that blackened his gaze. The black and red stones on his finger rings glinted in the low torchlight, and I let those flashes hypnotize away my uncertainty.
Sheriff had a dark presence that hummed with threatening authority reminiscent of Damien, except Damien had never made my body tighten with the need to submit to him like this.
Sheriff watched every stroke Pretty Boy made, every rise and fall of my breasts like I transfixed him, and yet...
“See? He likes you, little slave. Give him a show and come for him.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I put my head back, taking Pretty Boy’s encouragement and rutting into his touch.
Without a word, Steel rose from the couch and walked across the room, back out to the barbecue. I didn’t have time to consider why before Pretty Boy slid one fingertip slowly into me, driving every other thought from my mind.
“That’s it. Let everyone see you come.” He slid his fingers into me, pumping them in and out, making sure the heel of his hand hit my clit every time.
Panting, I bucked and came apart, hands grabbing at the cushions of the couch to either side of me. I cried out just as Pretty Boy’s mouth took mine and swallowed the sound.
“Fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he lifted his head and looked at his superior. “Have you ever seen anything so perfect, Sheriff? How can anyone resist her?”
I looked at the leader of the Dark Legion. Sheriff remained silent for so long, I’d have given anything to know what he thought, especially with his eyes boring into mine.
When he finally spoke, his voice was sardonic. “Well, she’s definitely Damien’s.”
Then he dropped his hands and stood from the chair.
“Sheriff?” Pretty Boy sounded puzzled.
But Sheriff was already headed toward the entrance that led to the barbeque. Back retreating, he raised his hand. “Enjoy the rest of your night, boys.”
Long after Sheriff departed, for the second time that day, I was still trying to figure out what in the world I’d done to piss the wrong person off.
Chapter 7
No Place For Nice Men
I tried to put Sheriff’s reaction out of mind without much luck.
True, I’d only been in the Grotto for two days, but I had a general sense of how the men here worked. It wasn’t like I expected Sheriff to be friendly with me, but there was something about his reactions to me that left me rattled.
Steel returned sometime later, but his return didn’t make me feel much better. Why had he left? When I thought about the way he’d just walked out without a word, my already crumbling self-confidence took another hit.
Watching him walk toward us with his usual swagger and a mug in his hand, I tried to read his expression. He looked like he always did, his lips stretched in a lazy, casual smile, laid back, not a care in the world. Nothing in what I saw of him told me anything was wrong. I wish that eased my mind.
As soon as he reached the couch where Pretty Boy and I were sitting, I gave him a questioning look. He just handed me the mug in his hand without a word and took a seat beside us on the couch.
I looked into the mug and sniffed. Red wine. I sipped, enjoying the strong, sweet vintage, badly misplaced in a large mug meant for beer.
“Thank you, Master.”
He patted his large leather-clad knee. “Come here, petal. I want you on my lap.”
An image of Damien flashed through my mind, thoughts of all the times he used to have me sit on his lap like that. An unsettled feeling slithered through me, and I blinked at him, but Steel’s expression was as casual as ever. Giving me nothing. I drew a deep breath and stood up, crawling slowly to my place onto his lap.
He slid his arm around my waist, his other warm palm massaging my bare leg. His lips brushed my forehead, my temple.
“Sheriff gone?” he asked Pretty Boy.
“Yeah, man. Went back out to the barbeque.”
Sheriff. Once more, I tried not to consider that man’s odd reaction to me. I looked at Steel, catching his eye.
“What is it?” His hand stilled on my calf.
More than once, I’d heard men among the J’nai talk about drinking as if it gave them courage. I sipped the wine. It gave me a buzz, but little else. “Why did you leave, Master? Did I do something wrong?”
His arm around my waist tightened. He made a low, vibrating hum in my ear. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you? I left because if I hadn’t, I’d have dragged you back to my room and pounded you all night long.”
Heat infused my cheeks. Unsure what to say, I turned my head away. My gaze caught sight of Bear and two of his buddies from earlier sitting on an L-shaped couch beside ours. All eyes were on me, taking me in like starving men in a desert who’d just caught their first sight of water. I snuggled into Steel’s lap, surprised at how safe it made me feel.
“How you guys doin’ tonight?” Steel asked over my head.
Bear shrugged, taking a swig of his bear. “It’s just like every other barbeque.”
Steel chuckled. “That’s ‘cause you don’t have one of these in your lap.” The hand that had been holding my waist slid over my ass, cupping one cheek, making me squirm into him.
The men laughed.
“We never like to see anyone dissatisfied at a party.” Once Bear drained his beer, Pretty Boy stood, took the cup from him and went for the bar.
“Petal…” Steel took my mug from my hand. “Why don’t you cheer Bear up? Go sit in his lap an
d give him some love.”
I drew back, blinking at him again, my stomach tightening.
When they’d given Hawk permission to take me, and moments ago when they’d let Sheriff enjoy the sight of Pretty Boy getting me off with more intimacy than the other men here, I’d accepted it, but the thought of Steel giving me to Bear scared me for some reason. Maybe it was because I sensed there was a friendship between my masters and Hawk—and to a lesser degree, them and Sheriff—that somehow made it easier to accept.
Weakness thrummed through my whole body as I stood from Steel’s lap. The heels I wore weren’t huge, but right then, they might as well have been as tall as stilts. I barely kept myself from wobbling as I walked over to Bear.
The bearded man’s grey eyes lit up with approval and fascination, locked on my every move. Seated to either side of him, his two friends watched. Right then, I’d have given anything for the floor to swallow me whole.
Shaking, I slid into Bear’s lap, curling up there just as I had with Steel, trying desperately to look as if I belonged there.
Well, at least Bear wasn’t bad looking, with muscled arms and a neatly kept black beard, but his sharp grey eyes were a little too intense on me, never looking me in the face directly. I’d mean nothing to him.
“Fuck, she’s so perfect,” Bear said. “But I guess all that money Damien has better make the best.”
The praise sounded like he was talking about livestock, but before I could consider this too closely, Pretty Boy spoke up.
“Well, I see the party is in full swing now.” He grinned one of those panty-melting grins and handed Bear his beer, then joined Steel back on their couch.
It looked like I wouldn’t be getting any help from him. That thought shouldn’t have stung, but it did. He looked like he enjoyed where I was every bit as Steel. Possessive pride shone in both men’s eyes. Steel drank the rest of the wine in my mug, his dark blue eyes watching me over the rim.
