by Tina Donahue
None of the guys noticed that or her finery. They stared at her cleft mostly, then the collar on the table. Made of leather, it had a long gold chain attached.
Her nipples grew hard and sensitive. Her pussy felt glutted with expectation that required immediate relief. She imagined the collar hugging her throat, the chain wrapped around Mitch’s hand so he could parade her around like the sex slave she was supposed to be. She hadn’t been lying to him. The thought of him enjoying her intimately in front of these men, acting out Connor’s outrageous fantasy, was a carnal high Nikki hadn’t expected.
Alex was certainly enthusiastic. Rocking on his feet, he asked Connor, “Ready to roll?”
He didn’t seem to hear the young man. He regarded her mouth, breasts and slit, no doubt looking for telltale signs of what his brother had done with her in the dressing room. Nikki didn’t move, couldn’t breathe, encouraging Connor’s scrutiny, needing him to know again that she craved him too.
His fingers fisted around his book, blanching his knuckles as he struggled for control. Behind his fly, Nikki saw the prominent ridge of his erection. He couldn’t deny all of his feelings for her. Uncomplicated lust might not be the best way to renew their relationship, but it was an opportunity Nikki wasn’t about to pass by.
“Connor?” Alex prodded.
He blinked, seeming to recall why they were all here, then paged to the part of his book with yellow sticky notes hanging out. Twice, he cleared his throat. It didn’t make him sound any less husky. “As the scene opens, the master will lead his slave into the room by the chain attached to her collar.”
Everyone’s focus zipped from her to it and back.
He continued, “The extras will watch without comment. No shouting as they did outside the gazebo. They now know that she belongs to her master with him having purchased that right.”
Connor strode to the table and stopped only a few inches from her. His diamond stud twinkled in the candlelight. His beard, mustache and tousled hair practically begged for her touch. Not yet, she warned herself, unwilling to risk any move and face possible rejection. To keep herself in line, Nikki gripped her hands behind her back.
Mitch edged closer to them both. Connor noticed. He flipped another page of his book and spoke to her. “Your master will bring you to the table. You’ll lie down on it, your arms held above your head, your wrists imprisoned by Pete.” Connor gestured to a blond guy with a grin any game show host would envy. Nikki recalled him having a thick Georgia accent.
He raised his chin, indicating he understood and approved of Connor’s directive.
“Holding onto your ankles will be George and James,” Connor said, pointing them out.
Nikki recognized the one on the left from the club’s BDSM room, the performer who’d called her “sugar”. He gave her a playful wink. She lifted her brows in acknowledgement. The one on the right bounced a squishy ball against the lip of the table while studying her cunt.
“They’ll spread your legs,” Connor said, “opening you up, keeping you prisoner for your master.”
“That would be me,” Mitch said from the side.
Never had he sounded more possessive, not even when he’d rescued her from being whipped at the club. Damn, but she liked it.
The cast and crew were equally enthused, looking as if they couldn’t wait to get on with this.
Connor ignored his brother and reached for the collar.
“I’ll put it on her,” Mitch said, getting to it before Connor could. “Lift your hair,” he ordered her.
Nikki did. The guys turned even farther in their chairs to watch. The chain slid between her breasts, the metal hard and surprisingly cool, the end of it dangling above her knees. Her neck was moist from the oppressive humidity, the leather clinging to her skin.
Mitch ran his finger between the collar and her throat. “Too tight?” he asked.
She liked how restrictive it felt. “No.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders, further claiming her.
Connor muttered, “Let’s be certain to follow the book this time.”
“I’ll do my fucking best,” Mitch said.
The extras snickered.
Nikki frowned. Of all the things for him to say, that wasn’t it. What was the matter with him, joking like that? Was he trying to push Connor’s buttons, hoping his brother would get pissed enough to shut this thing down since Mitch couldn’t get her to quit? If that was his plan, Nikki prayed it wouldn’t work. Even if she’d been living with both of them and their relationship was really good, Nikki wouldn’t have accepted their charity. She wanted them to know she was no longer the selfish girl who’d been so hurtful.
She wanted to see this through for reasons that had nothing to do with money.
“We’ll follow all of your directions,” she promised Connor.
Mitch pressed his fingers into her shoulders, a clear warning not to offer too much.
Stepping back, Connor said, “Let’s make a film.”
Nikki and Mitch took their positions in the outside hall. Everything went quiet, intensifying the sound of her hammering heart. Mitch wound the chain twice around his hand, then grabbed the part of it closest to her throat, using it to keep her to him. Slanting his mouth over hers, he kissed Nikki as a master might, his stubble scraping her cheeks and chin, his tongue filling her mouth so completely it kept her from producing any sound. Her knees buckled, sending Nikki into his big body.
“Action,” Connor called out from the dining room.
Every part of Nikki was humming nicely as Mitch led her inside. The area looked both romantic and depraved in the candlelight, the enormous table a sort of altar on which to sacrifice a docile female. Its honey-colored wood shone beneath the wavering flames, urging her to lie down, but not to rest. God no. To have these men hold her captive so Mitch could enjoy her at his leisure.
He brought her to the center of the table, waiting for her to climb on. In Connor’s book, Eve had to deliver herself to whatever the nobles wanted. No matter how base or impossible she found it to be, no one helped her. That babe was on her own. With as much grace as possible, Nikki sat on the edge of the table and lifted her leg so she could roll, crawl or scoot to the middle of it.
“Cut,” Connor said.
Apparently, she hadn’t been graceful enough. She lowered her leg and slid off the lip.
Connor strode up, his attention on her, his directive meant for Mitch. “Before she climbs on the table, you should kiss her, proving your claim.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mitch said.
Ignoring his brother, Connor kept his full focus on her.
A moment passed, then another and another. Behind Nikki, one of the guys coughed softly. Another moved in his chair, causing its legs to make a scraping sound on the floor.
Connor stepped closer, so near Nikki could smell his skin. His eyes never left her.
She saw hunger in his expression and something more, deeper than mere lust. Her pulse picked up, racing out of control. She parted her lips, needing to take a full breath.
Before she sighed it out, he said, “Like this,” then cupped her head in both hands, his fingers slipping into her hair, his mouth lowering to hers.
Nikki’s surprise turned to immediate desire. She sighed wantonly at his body’s size and warmth, the contradiction of his soft, heated lips and the rasp of his beard. If he worried about his whiskers chafing her skin, he didn’t show it. His kiss was deep and punishing, his tongue no longer allowing her any sound except a muffled whimper, his lust demanding she give him everything he desired.
Nikki couldn’t resist. Lost in the moment, she pressed her length to his, surrendering to his touch. Her nipple peaked even more within his palm. His other hand went to her cunt, his fingers acquainting themselves with her cleft.
Indescribable sensations radiated from there to the top of her head. He was as skilled as Mitch at foreplay, but different, his moves less casual, more intense. She didn’t think i
t possible to submit more than she already had, but Nikki did, losing all sense of time and place. They might as well have been alone in here. She heard and felt nothing but Connor.
Though fevered, he didn’t rush the kiss or his exploration of her clit, running his thumb around it several times prior to touching the hard nub. Nikki went to her toes with the stunning delight his stroking produced. She fisted her fingers in his tee. Her reaction didn’t get him to alter his pace. He seemed not to care about anything except his own need. He used her as he wanted, his passion evolving from savage to merciful.
His unexpected tenderness, the protective manner in which he cupped her mound, the way he softened his kiss aroused Nikki more than anything else. She slipped her arms around his torso.
Connor stiffened within her embrace. He pulled his mouth free and stepped back, his tee quivering with his harsh breaths. His expression vacillated between helpless desire and renewed distrust.
Suspicion won. Whether for his own feelings or her intentions, Nikki hadn’t a clue, nor did she get an opportunity to ask.
Connor continued to put distance between him and her, while muttering to Mitch, “Do it like that.”
Right. He was supposed to kiss and fondle Nikki as though he’d never enjoyed anything more, only to flee as though he’d found the entire matter distasteful. Kind of like the cool kids at school falling silent at their approach, then laughing after they’d passed.
Connor was behaving as idiotically as those morons had. He was an obstinate fool, still refusing to forgive Nikki for junk that didn’t matter any longer. Mitch had no idea what she could say or do to pierce Connor’s armor.
His brother did want her, though. That was painfully obvious to everyone in this room, including Connor. Mitch figured the next two days were going to be a real bitch for his brother, having to watch Nikki’s skin flush with excitement, witnessing her climaxes, hearing her wanting moans, seeing Mitch mounting and using her in every way possible while he refused to participate. However, if that’s what Connor wanted, so be it. Mitch was more than willing to accommodate him, with a little goading thrown in for acting like such an SOB and making Nikki look so sad.
“You’re sure?” Mitch asked.
Connor turned from Alex, his irritation evident. “That’s what I said.”
“So you did. Still, I thought I might do it like this.”
Surprise, then soft female approval registered on Nikki’s face at Mitch’s thumb running across her bottom lip. He smiled. She parted her lips as though to thank him or protest what he was doing in Connor’s presence. Not giving her a chance to say one word, he eased his thumb inside her mouth.
Her sorrow at his brother’s behavior wavered, then faded beneath Mitch’s attention, as though she couldn’t help herself. He knew she wanted and needed him to touch her. She behaved as she had in the dressing room, passion transforming her features, her demeanor part submission with a whole lot of seduction thrown in. She suckled his digit, sweeping her tongue over the edge of his nail, her teeth giving him a taunting bite.
Enough of play. Mitch removed his thumb and brushed his lips over hers. Nikki trembled. That’s my girl. Holding her within his embrace, Mitch gave her all the support she needed.
It made her bold. The tip of her tongue teased the seam of his mouth. Her hands roamed his naked ass, back and shoulders. Unlike his brother, Mitch didn’t retreat. He fitted his mouth to hers and kissed Nikki as he had no other woman…with the same eagerness he’d known as a teen mingled with a man’s passion and a friend’s love.
From the start, he’d adored everything about her. If anything had changed about that during the years, it was the depth of his feelings. They’d grown with his endless yearning for the woman she’d become.
With reluctance, he finished their kiss. Nikki’s head fell back, exposing her throat. Mitch kissed the pale blue vein above her collar, enjoying her breathy moan and the way her fingers clutched his biceps, unwilling to let go.
He swallowed, then asked, “Alex, did you get that?”
“Oh shit, was I supposed to?”
The extras laughed.
“Want me to do it again?” Mitch asked his brother. “Or do you want to show us once more how it’s done?”
If Connor had been close enough, Mitch figured his brother would have slugged him. Nikki went from limp to alert, apparently ready for the worst.
“Maybe we should just start with her on the table,” Alex suggested.
“Kiss her again,” Connor ordered Mitch. “My way. Then she goes on the table and we continue with the scene as I’d written it originally. Got it?”
“Action,” Alex blurted, not waiting for Mitch’s response or Connor’s cue.
“Have it your way,” Mitch said, then kissed Nikki once more.
She should have done something to stop Mitch, taken the opportunity to say something to him and Connor in order to make things right, but didn’t.
Her fear of losing these moments with them made Nikki selfish. If this wasn’t the ultimate female fantasy, no matter how temporary, then what was?
Through a fog of shameless indulgence, Nikki submitted to Mitch’s kiss, which was as commanding as Connor wanted, yet nothing like when she’d been in his arms. If she’d been deprived of sight or smell, she would have known which brother kissed her, their differences were that clear and thrilling.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Connor said, his irritation replaced with what seemed to be resignation or fatigue. “Now the table.”
Ah yes, that. The sacrificial altar.
Nikki lay down, her chain clacking the wood, her skin luminous from the candlelight. The guys regarded her as though she were their next meal, their expressions slightly feral, completely thrilling. If this had been the real House of Lords, they would have risked violating her, squeezing her breasts, tonguing her nipples, running their fingers over her pussy.
She tried to pull in a full breath but could not, excitement precluding it.
Paul captured her wrists, dragging her hands above her shoulders. James and George grabbed her ankles, planting the soles of her feet on the table, spreading her legs to expose her opening even more. Her slit was so wet the sticky air was cool against it, her clit aching as it would at a man’s intrusive touch. She imagined her vaginal lips parted and puffy, prepared for Mitch’s cock.
He climbed onto the table. Alex and Connor moved closer. The extras leaned up in their chairs.
Having read Connor’s book, Nikki knew what would come next. It made the wait to act it out grueling. Crazy with need, she willed Mitch to hurry as he turned his back to her, then straddled her torso. He faced her sex and she faced his, his balls and cock hanging like forbidden fruit just out of her mouth’s reach. Forgetting herself, Nikki tugged her arms, trying to get free of Paul so she could grab Mitch, bringing him closer.
“No,” Connor said, noticing. “You’re a slave. You’re supposed to lie still and await your master’s desire.”
Fuck that. Nikki had plenty desires of her own. She mewled in protest.
Mitch lapped her belly.
Her gasp of pleasure turned into a prolonged whimper.
He wrapped his arms around her upper thighs, his fingers separating her slick folds just as he’d done in the dressing room, then lowered his hips, bringing his balls and cock within licking distance. Nikki held back a gratified groan. He smelled of the sandalwood soap he’d used a short while ago. Luckily, it hadn’t removed the scent of sex. Her fragrance still lingered on his skin. Snaking out her tongue, Nikki licked his crown.
Mitch was so hard, his shaft barely moved. The rest of him, though… He lowered his ass, bringing his heavy sex closer to her lips. Nikki eased his cock inside her mouth, indulging herself with his skin’s texture and taste, the male musk clinging to his thick pubic hair and balls.
They dangled above her nose, turgid and masculine. She wanted to rub her face in them, experience their heat, love them with her tongue.
Mi
tch didn’t allow it, pulling himself away, denying her.
Nikki groaned, then cried out at Mitch’s tongue flicking over her clit. No, no, no. Too much. She couldn’t take it. She was a breath away from coming and hadn’t yet had her fill of him. It wasn’t fair.
He slipped two fingers inside her sheath.
She dug her heels into the table and lifted her ass, which managed to bring her cunt closer to his mouth. Not wanting that, she sagged back down, determined to resist. Grunting and straining, Nikki lifted her head enough to take him back into her mouth.
Mitch’s tongue stalled on her clit. His fingers stopped tunneling within her. He puffed with the intensity of a long-distance runner who’d gone beyond his own endurance.
Nikki wasn’t about to give him a chance to recover. Holding his crown between her lips, she ran her tongue over the small opening, tasting his pre-cum, adoring it. She traced the head’s contours and settled on the bumpy skin at the back…the area on all men that delivered the most sensation.
Crude sounds tore from Mitch, changing him from a man with civilized restraints to a male animal intent on rutting. He tightened his arms around Nikki’s legs and resumed licking, his fingers invading her, his actions denying any retreat.
Nikki dug her nails into her palms, the only movement allowed her. She couldn’t break from Paul’s grip or that of George and James. She was truly a slave now, her imprisonment a given, her only freedom what she could do to Mitch…the cries of delight she might pull from him. She sucked his cock deeper into her mouth, taking him in bit by bit, focusing on that rather than the nagging sensations between her legs.
He fought her at first, but soon faltered. His licks and strokes became increasingly erratic. Rather than affording her a bit of peace, it made Nikki’s orgasm edge even closer, her body begging for completion. No. It was too soon. She had to have more. She opened her throat, intent on taking in his full length.
