by Amy Valenti
So gradually that he barely noticed it, she coaxed his head further towards mine, and I laid kisses across her cheek, then over his. His eyes flew open, but from the way his breath caught, he couldn't deny himself what he wanted.
Faye pulled back, and I moved in to claim Santoro's lips. His eyes stared into mine, filled with conflicting emotions—doubt and hope, desire and fear, relief and confusion. His body was motionless to begin with, but then he slid his fingers through my hair, the touch rougher and more masculine than my girl's.
He responded to me, hesitantly at first, but then with more confidence. Dimly, I felt Faye step out of the way, but my senses were concentrated on our new playmate, the toned planes of his body and the way his erection pressed against my upper thigh, so close to my own.
I was the one to break the kiss, leaving him to crave more while I nodded at Faye. “Good."
Glowing with the praise, her eyes gleaming with lust, she nodded back. “Thank you, Sir."
Santoro watched the exchange with an investigator's eye. He wasn't a hundred per cent certain, but he suspected the truth, and I knew the idea of submitting to us intrigued him.
From the hungry way he was eyeing Faye right then, though, another possibility wasn't entirely out of the question. Though part of me jealously protested against her taking someone else's orders, Santoro seemed far too skittish to submit tonight, and in any case, he'd feel more at ease with her.
"When was the last time you let someone give you head, Santoro?"
His shoulder tensed under my hand, and I backed off, catching Faye's eye and cocking my head toward the stairs. She nodded and took Santoro's hand, guiding him along.
"C'mon. Let's get a little more comfortable."
He took a breath to voice a protest, then apparently realised he didn't want to and followed her without a fight, casting a half-wary, half-longing glance back at me.
Suppressing a smile, I headed into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and three glasses, then waited a couple of minutes before ascending the stairs to find them.
Faye could be unbelievably intuitive sometimes. She'd seated Santoro on the bed and stripped off his shirt, and now she was alternately murmuring to him and trailing kisses over his chest. She heard me coming and began to rise from her spot between his knees, but settled back down, crossing her wrists behind her back, when I shook my head.
Whatever she'd said to Santoro, it seemed to have worked. He was leaning his weight back on his hands a little, and the hunted look on his face had faded, replaced by tentative intrigue.
I trailed my finger over Faye's collarbone, letting her know I was pleased, before repeating my question to Santoro. “When was the last time someone gave you head?"
While I set down the water and glasses by the bed, he glanced at Faye, then said, “Last weekend. In a quiet corner of a club. It was a guy I know."
"You return the favour, senior detective?"
His eyes widened at the title. It hadn't been hard to figure out from his obvious preening that he loved reminders he was my second-in-command, and I'd never addressed him as ‘senior detective’ before.
"No."
I kept my tone neutral, allowing myself the barest of smiles. “What position were you in?"
"Sitting.” He hesitated before elaborating, “He was under the table."
A mental picture began to form, and I nodded appreciatively. “You force him to get down there? Grab him by the hair? Order him to suck you harder?"
Santoro coloured slightly, the way he did when I caught him doing something he shouldn't. “A—a little. Sir."
Ahh, now I'm ‘Sir'.
The boy always had learnt fast, and there was so much I wanted to do with him... For now, though, I stuck to my original plan. “Hmm. More of a switch in you than I thought. And it just so happens I own a girl who loves giving head...if you're interested."
Santoro shifted his weight slightly, a reaction to the growing tightness of his pants, no doubt. Before him, Faye bit her lip, seemingly torn between mild embarrassment at my words and anticipation of what was to come.
Santoro's voice held an edge of hunger as he left his inhibitions behind, looking from me to Faye. “Oh, I'm interested..."
Laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, I leaned in and tilted up Faye's chin with a finger. “Little tease...you okay with letting my senior detective take the reins for a while?"
With a quick nod and a grateful smile, she replied, “Thank you, Sir..."
I leaned against the wall beside the bed, reminding Santoro, “Nothing more than a blow job, senior detective. Anything more than that, and you need my permission."
"Thank you, Sir,” he echoed Faye, all his attention on my girl. For a second, he just looked her over, then he grabbed a handful of her long, loose hair and gave her a wolfish grin. “So you like giving head, huh?"
"Yes, Senior Detective,” Faye replied, taking her cue from me, though she used the term as a submissive addressing a Dominant instead of the other way around. Her tone carried only a small trace of the subservience I knew she was capable of, and I watched her closely, wondering where she was taking this.
"That's good,” Santoro told her. “Because I really wanna see your lips wrapped around my cock right now."
Faye ghosted one hand over his erection, making no effort to undo his pants. “Right now, huh?"
"Mm-hmm...” He waited expectantly, but she grinned up at him, testing his dominant instinct the way she'd submerge a toe in hot bathwater to gauge its temperature. After a second, he got it and tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her face into his lap. “Don't make me ask again, girl."
The token enforcement of his will was all she needed. Deftly, she unzipped his pants and licked him up and down like the little tease she was, taking her time so I could take in the sight of his cock. I'd seen him naked before, in the showers after the team's training exercises in the gym, but this was the first time I'd seen him erect. And if I could help it, it wouldn't be the last.
He yanked Faye's hair in earnest—a reprimand for the teasing—and with a muffled cry of surprise she closed her lips around his shaft, ceding control at last. Santoro gave a soft groan as she got to work, his hand still fisted in her hair as he encouraged her to take him in deeper, and my own pants grew uncomfortably tight as the seconds ticked on.
It was easier to focus on Faye's technique when I wasn't the recipient, and she apparently sensed my objectifying gaze, opening her eyes to meet it without faltering in her task. An extra shot of adrenaline pounded through my blood, and I briefly fantasised about pulling her away from Santoro and forcing her head into my lap instead.
Though I was pretty sure she'd love the forceful treatment, it wouldn't be fair to Santoro, and he'd only just started to get comfortable with this. Instead, I rested a light hand against his throat—not hard enough to restrict his breathing or moans, but a reminder that I was in the room.
His eyes flew open, and he tipped back his head in submission, his Adam's apple shifting under the skin of his throat as he swallowed thickly. The desperate desire in his face was too intense to ignore, and though his eyelids fluttered shut again after a couple of seconds, I kept my gaze trained on him. As his urgency grew, he guided Faye with a rougher touch, thrusting up into her mouth until he gave one final tug of her hair, echoing her cry of pained pleasure as his climax claimed him.
When Santoro's hand fell away from Faye's hair, she sat back, wiping her mouth with a satisfied smile. Amused, I met her questioning look with a slight shake of my head, and she remained where she was, waiting for Santoro to recover.
Once he'd regained his self-awareness enough to realise he'd just let Faye suck him off while I'd watched, he covered himself uncomfortably. Now he was thinking with his brain again, his doubts had resurfaced, and I let my hand drop back to my side, giving him space.
He noticed my obvious erection, and his tongue flicked out to moisten his lower lip. As if he was uncomfortable with his d
esire and retreating to familiar mental ground, he turned his attention to Faye, who was waiting patiently for acknowledgement.
"You okay, Faye?” There was a pleading tinge to his voice—I doubted he'd been that rough with a woman during a blow job before.
Faye rested her head reassuringly against his thigh, smiling. “Don't worry, Senior Detective. You didn't break me."
While Santoro sighed with relief, I poured them both some water, allowing them a respite.
"Good for more, little tease?"
Draining her glass, she thought about it for a second, then nodded. I hadn't really thought she'd want to stop there, but we'd never discussed her submitting to anyone but me, and I was treading carefully.
I kissed the top of her head and sent her to the bathroom to freshen up, then turned to Santoro. “On the floor."
This was obviously an order he'd become accustomed to taking, and he vacated his spot on the bed to kneel at my feet, his wrists crossed behind his back in the same position as Faye had been. I sat where he'd been a second ago, looking down at him.
"Still scared, senior detective?"
With an orgasm behind him, Santoro was a lot more relaxed. “Not so much, Sir."
"You don't need to be. If I didn't want you near Faye, you wouldn't be here."
He let the remaining tension drop from his shoulders, nodding.
"Questions.” It was a statement. I knew he had them.
"Are you just doing this because Faye asked for it?” He directed the question to my shoulder, as if too concerned about my reaction to meet my eyes.
I leant forward and rested my fingertips on his forehead, tilting his head back until he looked into my face. Whatever he saw there was enough—he wetted his lips and nodded. “Other questions,” I said.
"How's this gonna work? I mean, the pecking order's a little unclear..."
"I'm at the top."
He grinned. “I kinda figured."
"Faye's my collared property, but she switches. And so do you, if I'm right,” I said, going with my gut instinct for the last.
"I haven't topped before,” he admitted, fidgeting. “Thought about it, but..."
"But what?” I asked, when he trailed off.
"Always been scared that I'll go too far.” He looked a little ashamed, as if it made him a bad person rather than a responsible one.
"That's common enough,” I told him, nodding. “And between Faye and me, we can make sure you don't."
That surprised him a little. “You're okay with me topping her?"
There was a fine line between okay and not okay, and at times I walked it. I was close to that line in this case, but I was pretty sure I could handle it. “I trust her, and I trust you. She knows who she belongs to, and she knows what she can take."
"And voyeurism has its benefits, right?” Santoro added, grinning.
He wasn't wrong. I suppressed a smile, moving on. “Do you feel submissive to Faye?"
He nodded cautiously. “At times, yeah. I've wondered."
"Then we'll talk about that another scene. Do you feel submissive to me?"
"You're kidding, right?” Santoro asked, and I couldn't help but grin at the ‘you even have to ask?’ tone to his voice.
"Good."
Before either of us could continue, Faye returned from the bathroom, wearing only her underwear—black with purple lace trim—and her collar. She sank to her knees beside Santoro, lacing her fingers behind her back, and quietly waited for my instructions, a slight smile hovering about her lips.
Santoro, true to form, turned his head to look my half-naked girl up and down with an appreciative whistle. Faye lost the battle against her grin, but to her credit kept her eyes towards the ground.
"When you're finished, senior detective...” At my mild reprimand, Santoro straightened and cast his eyes downwards, tensing a little against my next words.
I didn't plan to punish him. Hell, I'd have been worried if he hadn't reacted that way. Instead, I moved on. “Little tease."
Faye looked up at me, awaiting her orders.
"The rules are the same for Santoro as they are with me. This time. When you get more comfortable with this arrangement, Santoro, you can set some of your own rules—provided they don't conflict with mine. All right?"
"Yes, Sir,” they murmured in unison, then glanced at each other, amused.
"Tell him your in-scene rules, then, little tease."
Faye's words came easily, born of habit. I'd made sure she'd learnt them well. “Don't come without permission, unless told otherwise. Don't speak unless I'm questioned, and if I am, answer honestly and promptly. Safe word when I need it. Resistance games need to be discussed before a scene."
"Sound reasonable, Santoro?” I held off on calling him ‘senior detective'—he'd be the Dominant one in the scene to come, after all.
"Yes, Sir."
Then again, some things were just instinctive.
Quelling my amusement, I said, “Tell me what you want to do to my girl."
His eyes flitted to Faye, and he hesitated, seeming conflicted. I waited him out, knowing how difficult it could be to come to terms with some of the darker desires inside.
"I want to blindfold her, cuff her and take her over my knee, and spank her until her ass is pink,” Santoro admitted finally.
Faye smiled, keeping her eyes cast down, and I nodded at Santoro. “That can be arranged. Anything else?"
"Do you have nipple clamps?” he asked after a moment.
"Answer the senior detective, little tease. Do I?"
Faye settled into her role with a light sigh, her attention focussed on Santoro, now. “Yes, Senior Detective."
Taking his cue from me, Santoro spoke directly to her. “Do you like them?"
She bit her lip, remembering a punishment I'd given her a while back. “Most of the time, Senior Detective."
I saw him file away her ambivalent reaction, and I relaxed a little more. She was in careful hands, if inexperienced ones.
"How would you feel about being clamped, cuffed and then fucked, girl?” he murmured, leaning in close to her ear.
Faye gave a tiny shiver, whispering, “Pretty good, Senior Detective."
Santoro turned to me. “Sir?"
Other than a momentary tingle of possessiveness, I didn't have a problem with that, and I nodded to him. His confidence growing, he turned back to Faye. “Okay, go grab everything you think I'm gonna need."
Faye got up and headed over to the closet, to go through the kink supplies stored there. Santoro got to his feet, watching her, and I moved from the bed to the chair in the corner, quietly vacating the play space.
Faye returned to kneel at his feet, holding out a pair of leather detachable cuffs, a pair of nipple clamps linked by a silver chain, and one of the scarves we used as blindfolds—a purple that matched the trim on her underwear, I noted, entertained by the sight.
Santoro took the items from her, examined them one by one, and stepped back to sit on the edge of the bed, beckoning to her. “Crawl."
It was only a couple of feet, but she did, coming to a stop between his legs and kneeling expectantly. Santoro cuffed each of her wrists in turn, fumbling the buckles a little but managing not to apologise for it. “Too tight?"
Faye shook her head and he tilted up her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I can't hear you, girl."
"Sorry, Senior Detective. They're not too tight."
He kissed her, as if comforting himself with something familiar for a moment, and Faye gave herself over to him completely, leaning forward as much as the edge of the bed would allow.
After a moment, Santoro kicked off his shoes and sat up against my headboard, positioning a pillow behind him, and beckoned to Faye. She knelt at his side and held back her hair at his command while he tied the scarf across her eyes.
With her vision obscured, he seemed to gain a little more assurance, though he had to be conscious of my gaze. I didn't engage him in any way when he loo
ked over at me, and he took the hint to concentrate on what he was doing.
"Safe words?"
She gave them. He nodded, comfortable with the arrangement. “Lie across my lap."
She positioned herself there with his help, pillowing her head on her arms, and Santoro tapped her head, slipping my other pillow under it when she lifted it. He clipped her wrist cuffs together behind her back and pushed her hands up enough that they weren't resting against her firm, recently-tattooed ass.
He took his time working her panties down her legs, then ran his fingers over the smooth skin and the loops and whorls of the oversized fingerprint tattoo on her left cheek. “Whose print is this, girl?” he asked.
Faye's voice was a little smug—she didn't often get to divulge this detail. “Zach's."
Only showing a little surprise, he looked over at me with a tiny mock salute. “Kinda gives new meaning to the words ‘on your six'..."
I smirked and, in his lap, Faye giggled. Santoro grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged, delivering a light slap to her ass with his other hand. “Think that's funny, huh?"
She quieted, knowing better than to answer the rhetorical question, and Santoro pulled her body in tight against his stomach, preparing to spank her in earnest. “How about I show you another meaning?"
I watched him draw on his own memories of being spanked as he warmed her up, increasing the force of his slaps by degrees until she gasped and wriggled, turning her head so I could see the pain on her face. Santoro kept up a steady rhythm, never hitting the same area twice in a row, allowing the sting to build and fade. When she relaxed again, becoming half numb to the sensation, he took the cue to hit harder.
Her cries were beautiful, and from the way she arched her hips against him, I could tell she was enjoying the pleasure of submitting to him as well as the pain of the spanking. Santoro was completely absorbed in his task, caught up in her reactions, and though Faye's body obscured my view of his lap, I didn't doubt he was hard and longing to take her.
When Faye forgot to breathe, tensing in anticipation of each blow and screwing her eyes up tight, I knew she was close to breaking. I sat forward, my instinct telling me to halt the session, but she hadn't given her safe word, and no matter what my protective impulse said, this wasn't my scene to put an end to.
