by Amo Jones
His tongue moves with force, slick and wet. “I’m going to get you good and wet, and then we’re both gonna fuck you. Ever done anal?”
I nod my head before I remember he can’t see me. “Yes. Multiple times.”
“Sluts get fucked like sluts. Ever been double-parked?” It takes me a little longer to understand what he’s actually asking me.
“Ah, no…”
“Mmm, maybe not quite as dirty as I thought you were…” He sucks on my clit with enough force to have me reaching for my release. “Too bad that’s about to change.” His tongue dives into my entrance and my head tilts back, my hair long since falling out of its perfect chiffon bun. My release drips over my inner thighs and I feel his tongue curl around each bead of liquid, licking up every last drop. He pauses before he reaches my most deadly secret, and I freeze momentarily. He slides me down his thick body and I fall to the floor at his feet, sandwiched between two bodies that I can’t see. One hand reaches out to the man I’m most acquainted with, while the other absently searches for the other. Please don’t be as big as this one. When my hand connects with his chest, I’m shit out of luck because every muscle swells out of his skin.
Shit.
Think, Jade, think.
I drop to my knees and blindly reach for the other man’s crotch, fiddling with his zipper. “Eager much?” he grunts, but lets me tug them down around his ankles. With my other hand, I reach for the main man, doing the same, pulling his jeans down. Breathing in and out, I reach for both of their cocks and… I’m going to die.
Pulling out the main guy at the same time as the other, I pump the other’s thick shaft in the palm of my hand, swelling and throbbing every second. With the main guy, I run the tip of my thumb over his head, swiping the bead of cum that has surfaced and sucking it into my mouth. I realize they can’t see what I just did, but I’m pretty good at blow jobs.
“That taste good?” he asks, his hands in my hair.
I freeze, not wanting him to be gentle with my hair. It’s something James does. Just as the thought enters my mind, he yanks on it roughly, pulling me closer to his cock. The salty residue sticks to the back of my throat. He slaps me hard across my cheek with his heavy piece.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth harder than you fucked mine.” Leaning down, I flatten out my tongue and press it against his balls, before sliding it up his shaft all while pumping the guy’s next to me.
“Slap me again,” I say, my hand diving between my thighs. A fist is in my hair as he whacks me across my cheek again. My pussy clenches, a moan slipping from my lips. Diving my finger inside of myself, I bring it to the other guy’s cock and use my cum as lube to pump his cock. “Shit.”
Main guy hisses—fucking hisses—and I almost flatline. It was the sexiest sound in the damn world. I want to hear more. Sucking him into my mouth through my soft lips, I take him in deeper, until I feel his tip hit my tonsils. His grip tightens as my pumping gains speed on the other. I go farther, swallowing him whole before swirling my tongue on the way out. I grip him around his cock and pump him before going to the other.
They’re both similar in size from what I can feel—and that’s a whole lot—but I would say the main guy is heavier, a tinge thicker. Angrier. Swallowing him suffocated me.
I move between the two of them, sucking them both into my mouth. It doesn’t take long before the main guy gets agitated and yanks me to my feet by my hair. It was unexpected and hot, sending need and want pooling between my legs. He could get rougher, I can feel it. He’s holding back.
“Touch your toes.”
I stand to my feet, sensing both men towering over me. “Make me.”
Hands clench around my cheeks roughly, shoving my face to his. Main guy again. The dude has issues, clearly, and it just so happens that I want to work them out. “You probably shouldn’t push limits with a man who doesn’t have any.”
My heart races, my thighs clenching. “Neither. Do. I.”
He shoves me forward until I crash into the wall, smacking my face against it. His hand is at the back of my neck, squeezing so tight I need to curl backward before a muscle pops out. He runs his other hand down the curve of my spine before cupping my pussy from behind. “Gonna fuck you while I think of someone else.”
“Funny.” I run my tongue over my swollen lip, wincing slightly when I feel the fresh cut and tang of metal touch the tip of my tongue. “Same.”
Directing my head forward, he bends me over until I’m touching the straps of my heels. I wait a couple of seconds before I feel a tongue tracing up my inner thigh from the back. He pulls me backward farther, until the other guy is in front of me, his fingers twisting in my hair as he tears out what’s left of my ties and pulls me into his crotch. He grips his cock with one hand and before I can see, he slaps me across the cheek with a heavy slap. My thighs clench, sticking together from my dampness.
“That got you all wet, huh?” main guy says from behind, his finger sinking between my folds. “You might last the night after all.” Sucking the guy in front of me into my mouth, the other one extracts his finger and I wait (im)patiently for him to suck on my clit again. Warmth flicks over my anal entrance and I freeze my movements. Unsure how I feel about him tonguing my asshole.
“Do I need to beat you into submission?” he asks, continuing with the same tormenting flick of his tongue. His fingers dig into my hips as his tongue finally dives into my ass. The sensation is not something I’m sure I like, or hate, and I don’t know why he’s doing it and why he doesn’t just fuck me there. He must stand to his feet because a loud slap vibrates over my ass cheek, stinging me instantly. It feels good, so fucking good, but I need more.
More pain.
“You want me to fuck you?” he asks, and I cry out when he slaps me again, in the same place. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Another slap. “And you want my friend here to take you too?”
Another slap, this time I could swear I feel my skin split open. “Yes!” I scream, sweat trickling down my temple.
“Good,” he says, with another slap, but this time over my pussy. I throb instantly, releasing drips of cum down my thigh. “Because there’s no safe word in here.” He rubs me over my cleft, massaging softly as I feel the tip of his cock push against my entrance. In the midst of the chaos, he obviously put on a condom. Gripping my hips, he thrusts into me instantly, tearing me wide open to accommodate his girth.
“So fucking tight.” He pulls out, runs his damp cock all over my pussy and crack of my ass, before diving back in and pumping me in rhythm. Unable to offer myself the release I ache to feel, I pull the other guy in closer, swallowing him whole while the main guy hammers me from behind. Deep, hard thrusts with enough force to hit the edge of my cervix.
He pulls out again and I suck the tip off of the other guy. The sound of him spitting is the only thing I hear before saliva slips down the crack of my ass with his finger following its trail. The tip of his cock pushes against the entrance of my ass and I tense slightly, afraid of the sheer size of him and the teeny gap of my hole.
He slaps me hard across the ass with one hand and bundles up my hair with his other. “Relax.” When I don’t, he tugs on my hair and my neck stretches backward, making it hard to swallow the cum that’s sliding down my throat. “Fucking relax.” My muscles release around his size as he inches further and further inside of me. I’ve done anal. A lot. James loves anal almost as much as he loves sex, and I don’t mean just with his cock, so taking it isn’t a problem—usually, but this man is big. I don’t even know his name. Once he’s buried deep in my ass, he pulls out, lifts me around the waist and turns me around to face him again. The way he handles me is alarming, as if I weigh almost nothing. Sucking my nipple into his mouth, he enters me as the guy behind me presses the tip of his now condom-clad cock against the entry of my ass.
I suck in a deep breath as they both sink inside of me.
“Oh.” A yelp escapes my mo
uth when they’re both entering and my arms fly around the main guy in front of me, my teeth sinking into the side of his neck. Metallic liquid touches my tongue as I swallow his guttural hisses. He pumps in and out a couple times all while the guy behind me grunts, slowly sinking into my asshole. They both thrash into me relentlessly, my eyes rolling to the back of my head in pleasure.
Confusion.
I squeeze the main guy closer and without thinking, my lips find his. He doesn’t open them, doesn’t move. It almost gets ridiculous that I keep my lips on his because he’s not reciprocating, so I move back and suck down on his neck. Not everyone likes kissing. I get it.
My legs shake as they continue. It’s not until I’m screaming through my release that he falls backward, landing on a sofa. They both remain inside of me, this time I’m riding the main guy with the other behind me.
Main guy’s hands squeeze around my thighs as he slams me deeper over his cock. He grips me from my cheeks and brings my face lower than his. “Open.”
I do.
Saliva slides inside my mouth as the guy behind fucks me harder. I clench around them, my body preparing to fall beneath their hands again. Yet again. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle yet another orgasm, but I chase it anyway.
“Slap me,” I whisper, rolling my body over him.
He slaps me across my face before grabbing my tit and pulling me into his mouth. He bites down on my nipple and I lose it. The guy behind me pulls out of my ass and after a few seconds, his hot cum is squirting over my back as the main one beneath me grunts and groans through his release, with my nipple still between his teeth.
I’ve been flipped, slapped, pulled, and fucked until my legs shook, bruises welt my skin—I’m sure—and blood stains are smeared over my body.
We all fall in silence, so I curl up on the ground, attempting to catch my breath. I’m met with silence as they both gather up their things and the door opens and closes and I’m alone again.
Alone.
Left with nothing but the memories of what just happened. That just happened. I smirk to myself, my tongue running over my bottom lip. I can still taste them both on my skin, smell the scent of their sex in the air. They’ve left me with a hunger that can never be satiated. I want them back.
Doing the best that I can with no sight, I gather up my dress and squeeze it onto my body just as the door flies back open and a light turns on. I smile, finally able to see who these two men are, but when I turn to face them, it’s James. My heart crashes to the floor.
“Oh, hi,” I say, zipping up the rest of my dress.
He takes one step inside, and then another. “Have a good time tonight, Jade?”
My throat is dry, my mouth parched, so I run my tongue over my lips. “I—”
“Jade…” he says, his eyes flashing with coldness that drips down my spine and lands at my lower back. “I told you that you were free to roam tonight.”
He releases the tie around his neck, tossing it onto the ground. It’s the first time I get a good look at the room and the current state of my dress. There are tears at the ends, my hair is a knotted nest around my shoulders, and my hands have blood on them. I wince when I touch the inside of my thigh. I feel like a kid in a candy store, finding sex for the first time. I’ve never known it to be this way. Pleasurable. Enjoyable. J’s eyes roam up and down my body. The thought of him being on top of me so soon after having sex with two strangers constricts my throat and I have to force myself not to dry retch. Don’t fucking touch me.
The room is a dark shade of blue, the walls bleeding into an ombre of gray. There’s a king-size bed in the corner with four posters holding it up. On the other side of the bed, there’s a Victorian-style sofa with buttons sewn into the cushions, and on the other side of the wall, there is a range of ornaments and utensils hanging. Obviously more on the BDSM side.
“This room is one of the L’artisaniant four.” James takes a seat on a single sofa with high backs that reach up to the ceiling while the sides curve around his body. I don’t know what he’s doing or playing at, but James didn’t get his name for nothing. “This is run by four men, some say they’re four of the most powerful men in America, and others say that they’re mere thugs that simply had more brains than money who then created this multi-billion-dollar secret society that holds the world’s most elite secrets.”
“Sex? Hardly secretive,” I whisper, flexing my fingers. I know that I shouldn’t answer back, but something over the past couple of hours has given me confidence, even if it does only exist inside of my head.
He holds my stare, resting his ankle on his knee. “Not just that.”
Finally, I yank the zipper up, covering my body. “Is there a reason why you wanted me in here? To come with you?” I ask, and the way his mouth twitches is enough to confirm it.
“Maybe.” He stands to his feet, dusting off his immaculate suit pants and putting his hand out to me. “I will take you back to your dorm.”
I falter in my step. College. My classes. Everything that I should be doing instead of being fucked seven ways to Sunday at some high-end sex club.
I take his hand as he leads me out, pushing open the doors. This time when we move through the main room, the energy is dying out, some asleep in various areas of the room. I must have been in the room for a couple hours, at least. Turning my head over my shoulder, the words Niveau un are written in the same cursive font as L’artisaniant, only illuminated in a gentle shade of blue.
Level one? That’s what level damn one entails? To be fair, I enjoyed it, and I desperately try to squash the question from spilling from my lips. “How often do they hold these… events?” It comes out anyway.
James leads us back out the front door until we’re on the wooden porch as he hands a valet our ticket. “Once a month.”
“And why do they do it?” I find myself asking, but not really wanting the answer.
He doesn’t answer anyway, and when the Maserati is back in front of me, I slide into the passenger seat with an eerie feeling that someone, or someones were watching me as I did so. We don’t remove our masks until we’re down the road.
I’ve only ever felt true fear once in my life. Jade was around five, and she fell off her bike while I tried teaching her. She tipped, fell, and skinned her knees, leaving blood smears all over our parents’ pristine white marble driveway. I remember feeling so helpless that my stomach ached with anger. I was angry at myself, but I was also angry at my dad. He bought her that bike, and in essence, he wasn’t to blame for it, but at that time, all of my wrath was aimed at him. I was irrational. I flew off the handle big fucking time and swung at him, jacked him straight in the jaw. I wish I could say that I’d want to go back to that same boy. To Royce Kane. The possessive older foster brother who jacked off to the thought of his underage sister behind his closed doors, but I can’t. Never. Time hasn’t just aged us. It tore us apart too.
There’s a knock on my front door and I pick up my gun from the coffee table, shoving it into the back of my jeans.
“You gonna be this on edge for the rest of the week, or…?” Gypsy teases, nudging his head up at me from the sofa. “Fucking gangster.”
“You gonna go stay at your house this week, or…?” I snap back at him with a snarl, opening my front door wide before bringing my eyes to the person standing on the other side.
“Son,” Dad murmurs, popping the collar of his Armani suit.
I step aside, waving him into my house. The first fucking thing I bought when I left home. Situated right near the ocean, with a dock, floor to ceiling windows shaped in a diamond in the sitting room, and all log-style furnishings. I never wanted to be in the center of LA, in fact, I fucking hate LA. Near the ocean is where I need to be, and this way I get my boat, I get nature, and I get peace and fucking quiet when I don’t have Gypsy or Wicked hanging off my fucking arm. Wicked is harder to get rid of since he lives with me.
Kicking the door closed as he enters, I bypass the grani
te counter and varnished bar stools, taking the two steps down into the lounge. Mountains spill out the sides, small islands jacked all over the ocean in the distance. “Everything all good?”
Dad takes a seat on one of the chairs, resting his arms on his legs. “Yes, well.” He pops off the button to his suit jacket and leans back. “We may have a slight problem.”
“Nope,” I say, pointing a finger at him with one hand while reaching for my cigarettes with the other. I fall down onto the single black leather chair, blazing the end of my cancer stick. “The deal was that there would be no fucking issues.”
Dad looks at me with tired eyes. Wrinkles line around the edges as a dark five o’clock shadow scatters over his jawline. “I know, son, but we’ve hit a brick wall with one of the dealers.”
I sink back, blowing out a cloud of smoke. Gypsy is always quiet when my dad visits. He doesn’t like him. Not sure why. Actually, none of my brothers like him, and that should be a red flag, but I always bring it down to the fact that Dad isn’t for everyone. He’s a cunt, and a dry one at that.
“One of my main sellers is having trouble moving shipments over the border.”
I shrug. “Well, fuck, Gypsy here is quite comfortable using his pretty little fucking face to trick his way through border control.”
Dad shuffles uncomfortably, giving me a tense, brief smile. “I get that, but just give me two days. I’ll have it.” I grind my teeth, slightly agitated. This isn’t the first job he has delivered for us, in fact— “Son, you know I’ve got this. I’m a powerful man. The shipment will be here two days from now, ready for you all. We’ve been doing this for what, four years now, and I haven’t let you down once.”
I grunt, stubbing out my cigarette in the gold plated ashtray that was once a cap from my bike wheel. “Two days, Pops.”
He smiles, leaning back. “Done.”
I watch his eyes and how they shift around the room nervously, I don’t know if he has always been like that or if this is new, and I sneak a look at Gypsy quickly to find him already watching me. His face is frozen, expressionless.
