by Nia Farrell
Was she? After thinking about it, she nodded. “Yes. I think so. It will be weird, knowing that he’s there, but it’s something that I need to get used to. Better one Dom watching than dozens, right?”
His hardened cock tapped her bottom in agreement.
Positioned as she was, it wouldn’t take much to work his way inside of her. But there were four other sets of eyes and three other erections that needed satisfied. Rather than be selfish, Lukas settled for foreplay that quickly had all the Doms ready to call it a night.
Leaving their clothes for now, they climbed out of the pool and headed for the shower room, a modern concession made for the health and well-being of patrons and staff members. Instead of showerheads, water streamed out from stone carvings that studded the wall, reminding her of the great fountains in Rome. The electronic controls were hidden behind a panel in the wall.
Leda unwrapped the bread tie from her braid, undid the plaited strands, and rinsed the treated water away. While Djiman towel-dried her hair and Marcus and Lukas dried off her body, Antonio and Cassius stood back, watching and fisting themselves.
The men were so aroused, she was surprised that they didn’t have shower sex. Instead, Lukas led her to the banquet room with its orgy-sized beds. Antonio and Cassius were close behind. Marcus and Djiman followed as soon as they had gathered everyone’s clothes.
“Here.” Sir Antony pointed to the bed that was farthest from the patrons’ restrooms. “Sir Lucius, get her ready for us. I want her as wet as that pool. Sir Djiman, we’ll need oil. Find some and bring it, please. Sir Marco, get Sir Cassius a chair, por favor. Make our guest comfortable.”
Sir Antony kept his eyes on Lukas, watching as the German-born fitness model picked her up and tossed her on the bed. He followed her down, covering her body with his. Wedging her knees apart, he took hold of his erection, parted her labia, and started pushing his way inside, grunting, hissing, smiling like a deviant when he felt her body’s response to his domination. He was rough, and she loved it. Her body didn’t lie.
A few more strokes and he had worked most of his length inside her.
Sir Lucius jacked his hips and drove in deep, giving her every inch that she could handle and then some. She winced at the painful pleasure when he bottomed out.
He flexed his hips, pulling back a bit, only to slam back inside her. Once he had her stretched enough to fit his length, he shifted into high gear. Spreading his knees, he knelt up, lifted her hips, and fucked her like a porn star while their captive audience watched.
There was a hunger on Sir Antony’s face that she sensed was as much for Sir Lucius as for her. But along with his physical need for satisfaction, she saw a fleeting, poignant look that was unmistakable. If the Spanish Dom couldn’t be with the one he wanted most, she was more than happy to be the bridge that connected them.
Sir Antony climbed on the bed and walked on his knees until his thighs were by Leda’s face. Fisting his erection, he pointed his cock at her lips and teased them apart. To let him in, she opened her mouth as wide as she could.
“Get me wet,” he growled, his gaze sliding from her face to her pussy that Lukas was pounding into, keeping her breasts in constant motion. Sir Antony caught one with his hand and squeezed it, fingers digging into her flesh. He shoved his erection deeper into her throat, making her struggle when he set off her gag reflex.
She arched her neck and pulled back her head. He fisted her still-damp hair to hold her while he fucked her face.
“Sir Lucius!” he grated when he was close to finishing. “It’s time to switch. I want you to lie on your back while she sits on your lap and takes that cock of yours up her ass. Sir Djiman! Oil, please!”
The soft scent of coconut filled the air. Lukas pulled free of her pussy and slapped his hand over her crack, lubricating the opening before he started stretching her out. One finger. Two fingers. Three fingers. Rolling to the side and pulling her back against him, he lifted her leg, notched the head of his cock against her rosette, and pushed, gaining the inside. He tunneled deeper, deeper, forging his way until he was buried to the root.
Sir Antony backed away, giving Lukas room. Holding her against him, he moved them both closer to the edge of the bed, then rolled back with her on top of him, both of them facing the ceiling with his cock owning her ass.
She’d never had Sir Antony inside her pussy, but he claimed it tonight in a single, insistent plunge that left her doubly, deliciously filled. Bracing himself on extended arms, he started moving, matching Sir Lucius’s thrusts, plowing into her when Lukas did. Their erections rubbed against each other, separated only but a thin, wet wall.
“And now for your treat, chica. Djiman! Make sure that you’re slick for her.”
Beneath her, Lukas nearly stopped moving. “Relax,” he crooned in her ear. “You can take it. We’ll go slow.”
It was Sir Antony’s turn to come to his knees. Lukas spread his legs wide. Sir Antony sat on his heels and leaned back to make room for Djiman, who lowered himself on one knee, facing Leda with his back to Sir Antony, who had all but pulled out of her.
Taking hold of that curved cock of his, Djiman pressed his erection against Sir Antony’s and moved with him, pushing against her entrance until he had gained the sweet inside. They surged together with Sir Lucius, the three of them pushing deeper. The feeling was incredible. Beyond words, she could only pant and moan, hurtling toward a climax that made her body convulse and jerk between them. Riding the waves, Djiman grabbed her hips and held them fast. Lukas splayed his hands over her breasts.
The mattress shifted when Sir Marcus joined them. Fisting her hair, he shoved his erection into her mouth. Her moans of ecstasy vibrated his flesh.
She didn’t know where Sir Cassius was, and frankly, she didn’t care. Her universe was centered here, on this bed, with these four men, the pleasure they were bringing her, and the pleasure they would take.
One orgasm barely subsided before the next crest came. She rode an endless wave of them until one of the fiercest ones she’d ever experienced rendered her unconscious. She came to, still impaled on Lukas’s cock with Sir Antony where Marcus had been, his eyes filled with worry as he caressed her face and smoothed back her hair.
“You had us worried, chica,” he rumbled. “You left us for a while.”
A strange lethargy still gripped her. She smiled sleepily. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Forgive me.”
He kissed her lips, her nose, her forehead. “Forgiven,” he said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Sir Antony backed off the bed and headed for their private quarters, ostensibly for wet washcloths and fresh towels. From the far side of the villa, she thought she heard someone pound on the door. Strange. So strange.
Sir Antony came racing back, cell phone and linens in hand. Tossing a wet cloth to Lukas, he turned to the rest. “Everyone get dressed! Now! The police are here!”
Leda felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. Struggling to regain full consciousness, she let the men clean and dress her. The four of them stayed where they were while Sir Antony hurried back, talking on his cell phone as he did.
She turned worried eyes to Lukas. “What do they want? Why are they here?”
The look on his face was grim. He hugged her to him, offering his strength. “Someone must have seen us. That’s the only reason they’d have to be here.”
“Hands up! Let the woman go!”
The police poured in, guns drawn. Sir Antony somehow managed to remain calm. “There’s been a serious mistake, officers. I suggest that you talk to the lady before you make more.”
Handcuffs were already going on Lukas, Marco, and Djiman. She paled, seeing them.
“Let them go!” she cried. “Let them go! They haven’t done anything!”
The detective with them begged to differ. “An eyewitness’s account and security camera footage say otherwise. We have warrants for aggravated assault, kidnapping, and carjacking.”
“I know wh
at it looked like, but that’s not what happened!” She thrust out her hands in a silent plea. “Have you seen the footage? I mean, really looked at it? I didn’t struggle. I didn’t fight. I went willingly into the backseat of my car. I knew that I was being taken by people who would never hurt me. Call Jewell Fraser. She can verify what I’m telling you. My cell phone record and hers will prove that she called me just before the security camera footage shows me being taken. You officers know where you are, right? You know what kind of place this is? Well, those three men that you have cuffed and I work here together. We just started living together. They wanted to make my first night special, and they did it by giving me the capture fantasy that I’ve only dared to dream about. Whoever issued the warrant for their arrest was missing some critical information. It wasn’t kidnapping. It was kink. My kink! My partners waited until they thought no one could see us. I’m sorry if we gave someone a fright. Please, tell me it wasn’t a little old lady with a frail heart.”
“No.” The detective swore beneath his breath. “Look, Miss. We have warrants. We’re taking them in. This is going to get straightened out at the police station and away from here.”
Words were useless. His mind was set. Leda had the feeling that he was the type who liked making the evening news, and this was just the kind of juicy story that tabloids and television existed for.
She was helpless to do anything but watch the three Doms get shoved into the backs of separate squad cars and hauled away.
Chapter Nine
When Leda tried to walk, her knees started to buckle. Only Sir Antony’s quick reflexes and greater strength kept her from falling.
“I called Sir Piers,” he told her, pulling her against him and hugging her to his heart. “He was contacting the resort attorney next. Ms. Bryan will have them out in no time, querida. You will see.”
She dashed the tears from her eyes with her fingertips. “I know,” she said, sniffling. “I know. But I’m worried what this will do to Djiman’s green card. I’m praying that his residency status isn’t jeopardized and that he’ll still be eligible for citizenship. I need to call Mistress Fraser. I don’t know how soon I can get to work tomorrow. We’ll need to go to the police station. I have no idea how long that will take. They’ll want to talk to all of us, but who knows how well they’ll listen?”
Her mind had a thousand thoughts running through it but one name stood out. “Sir Piers. Oh, my god. The resort doesn’t need this kind of publicity. I’ll be lucky to keep my job.”
“Hey.” Sir Antony cradled her head in his hands. “Your job isn’t in jeopardy. There’s no way that Mistress Jewell will let you go, chica. You’re too important to her, and to the resort. Now, the hour is late, and we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow. You’re going to brush your teeth. Dry your hair. Do what you need to do and come to bed with me. Would you like Sir Cassius to join us? If not, I’ll put him in Djiman’s room.”
Leda froze. This is where she should say, “Whatever would please you.” But the words stayed locked in her throat.
Her silence was answer enough. “Sir Cassius, we’ll show you to your room for the night. The sheets are clean. You should be quite comfortable.”
Sir Antony’s words were another reminder that he had lost his lover for the night. She hoped to God that it was only for the night. She hated to think that her kidnap fantasy might get Djiman deported.
Leda brushed her teeth and dried her hair. After voiding, she washed her hands again and toweled them dry before returning to Sir Antony’s bedroom.
He was still dressed in his Roman toga. “Come with me,” he ordered, holding out his hand.
She took it, grateful for human contact. She felt ready to fly apart and welcomed the grounding that his touch provided. He led her into the living room. Pulling a pillow from the back of a chair, he placed it on the floor beside it and took a seat.
“You need knee time to let go of this. Let go of everything. Empty your mind. Remember what the soul knows, that you exist beyond time, beyond space. Claim your truth and rise above the shackles that others would place on you. Let it go. Let it all go. Free yourself, querida. Allow yourself to simply be.”
She folded her legs and knelt on the pillow. He moved his foot closer to her. “Rest your head on me,” he crooned softly, placing his hand lightly on her head, offering comfort and reassurance. “Quiet your mind. Wrap your arms around my leg, and I will be your anchor. Trust that I will keep you safe. I’ll keep them all safe. I swear it.”
Leda didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Quieting her mind was the second hardest thing that she’d ever had to do. She didn’t tell Sir Antony that tonight had reminded her of her mother’s murder. She had hoped that she would never have to deal with the police ever again. The first time had been hard enough.
Eventually, she managed to hit the pause button on her thoughts and quiet her mind. She must have drifted to sleep. It was after midnight when she returned to awareness.
“Welcome back, querida,” Sir Antony murmured. “Come. Let’s go to bed.”
He turned down the covers and sat her on the edge of the mattress. He stripped off her clothes and his toga and tucked them both naked into bed. Only last night, he and Djiman had taken her here. But now, it was just the two of them, lying on their sides, locked together with her back to his front, both of them worried, wondering how they would ever manage to rest.
Somehow she did, but she didn’t stay asleep. She cried out, still locked in the nightmare of her mother’s murder.
“No!” she screamed. “Mitéra! No, no, no, no!”
“Leda! Wake up!” Sir Antony’s voice came from a place far away. She was in Manhattan, watching the cold drawer open, the sheet pulled back, being forced to identify her mother’s butchered face, her beauty savagely destroyed by an unknown killer’s blade.
“Leda!” The biting grip on her biceps snapped her fully back in body. Throwing herself against his chest, she wept for her mother. She wept for Djiman. She wept for Lukas Haas and Marco Gallo and Antonio Rodriquez and herself. The five of them were at the mercy of a legal system that had failed to bring justice to her mother’s murderer. What hope did they have?
“Talk to me, querida. You’re shaking like a leaf. Tell me what has frightened you so.”
“Seeing the police,” she keened. “When I was in college, two officers came to my door to tell me that my mother had been murdered. I had to identify her body. She’d been mutilated, Antonio. Her face—oh, God. I was nineteen. Nineteen! No daughter should have to do that!”
“You are right,” he said softly. “No daughter should have to see her mother so…and no parent should have to watch his child die. Life is not fair, querida, but somehow we find a way to survive, to move on, even when it means leaving part of us behind. A piece of my heart will always be in Spain. There is no help for it. But whatever is left, believe me when I say, I give it to you and the others. You have made me feel alive again, and for that, I will always be grateful.”
She didn’t press Antonio for details. They were both too raw to deal with the pain of his loss. Instead, they held each other, drifting in and out of sleep until his cell phone rang and abruptly woke them.
He answered without looking to see who was calling. “Yes? Antonio here.”
The message was brief. He looked at her and nodded. “We’re on our way.” Just that fast, the call was ended. “Put on your clothes, chica. They’re coming home.”
Ms. Bryan had been busy. The resort attorney had insisted on reviewing the security camera footage with the police commissioner and the district attorney. The recording supported Leda’s claim that it was a consensual act of kink. Combined with Jewell Fraser’s statement that Leda knew that something was about to happen with people who wouldn’t harm her, the district attorney released the men on bond. He was working with the judge to get the charges dropped entirely.
That was the good news. The bad news was that one of the officers got rough with
Lukas. When Antonio saw him, he was livid and Leda was in tears.
“Querido,” he crooned, carefully cupping Lukas’s face. He had a black eye, a split lip, and bruises all over his face and body. “They will pay for this. I swear it! Marco, you will take more pictures at home, but use my phone while we are here, to show that he was this way when we came.”
Marco backed up to place Lukas in the police station, then stepped closer and closer, taking a series of pictures that ended with close-ups of his battered face.
“Has Ms. Bryan seen this?” Antonio asked.
“Ja.”
Lukas didn’t elaborate, and who could blame him?
Antonio nodded. “We should have a doctor check you out. Master Sorin, if he is still here. Dr. Powell, if he is not. They can come to the villa. Let’s get you home.”
Marco was more upset about Lukas’s mistreatment than anything, even his own arrest. But there was a tension in Djiman’s face that betrayed his concern for his green card and the possibility of being deported. Too, he was unnaturally quiet. There were no gentle teases today.
Master Sorin had already returned to California with his actress submissive. Dr. Powell came out after her hospital rounds and before office hours. She didn’t see a reason to take x-rays, but she did recommend that Lukas see a plastic surgeon for the split in his lip, to prevent scarring or to minimize it.
Lukas exchanged a look with Marco and declined.
Leda bit her tongue. It was his decision to make, but he earned his living from his looks. She didn’t understand why he would jeopardize that.
Seeing her concern, Lukas pulled her to him and gave her a careful hug. “It will either leave a mark or it won’t,” he said.
“And a scar is a story to tell,” Marco added grimly. “Where it’s at, it won’t detract from his looks. Hell, it might add character.” He turned his focus on Lukas. “Whatever the case, I want to photograph you while it’s fresh. Standard shots for the legal system, then I’d like to shoot you as a boxer if you’re feeling up to it. After breakfast. We need to get some protein in you first.”
