The look in Jon’s midnight blue eyes was pure Master, getting off on her helplessness, her throaty supplications. That look affected Celeste as well, particularly when Leland spoke to her sternly because her hips started to lift.
“Stay still. Don’t make me tell you again.”
Which made her want to incur the punishment. But she wanted to please him as well, and for once the latter won. She stayed still, every cell screaming to move as he pushed deep inside her, rotated. God, he felt so incredible. She couldn’t possibly stay still, but she did, because he’d ordered her to do so.
“Look at them in the mirror, Celeste. I want you to keep looking at all of them.”
She did, but eventually she had to close her eyes, overwhelmed enough to grasp the one thing she felt over and above all of it. Love. The way she’d never expected it to feel. Visceral, all-consuming, angry, tear-swollen, needy, unquestionable, unconditional and overwhelming.
He bent over her, pressing his full weight against her, driving his hips so he moved her forward on the bed and wrested a cry from her throat. “Yeah, you understand now, don’t you, darlin’? Gonna use you hard tonight, Celeste. Leave no doubt in your mind. Got it?”
Oh God. “Oh God…” How had he… It didn’t matter how, but the words alone were enough. The ripple started in her abdomen and started to spread, a tide that was no turning back. “Leland…Master…”
“Come all you want, baby. Won’t be the last time you come for your Master. Your night is far from over.”
She had no choice. She came, screaming without any thought of who might be around them. Someone else, maybe a couple someones, got tipped over by her orgasm, because she heard several thin cries that matched her own, like doves or swans. Those poignant long notes resonated in the heart and mind, driving the pulsing of her body to greater heights than she imagined possible. He was right. She was going to give him her soul before the night was over.
§
Leland hadn’t been kidding her about her night being far from over. After that incredible orgasm, he’d brought her back up to peak at least twice more. The first time was fast and brutal. He’d bound her on the St. Andrew’s Cross that Rachel and Jon were no longer using, blindfolded her with an eye mask that deprived her of any light. Through the use of a high-powered Hitachi Wand, he forced an orgasm on her. Coming so soon on the heels of the other climax, she thought she might have shorted out some brain circuits. She struggled against the overwhelming flood of sensation, but he didn’t let up until her body was bucking helplessly again and crying for mercy.
But his follow-up was even more devastating. He kept her on the cross, panting and shuddering, and began to press kisses on her body. A kiss high on her thigh first. Then a significant pause, where the sounds of other sessions, gasps, sighs, cries, sharp slaps, the zap of an electric stick, filled her with anticipation and a swirling anxiety. She jumped as his mouth pressed against her navel next, tongue playing there a leisurely amount of time before he drew back again.
He didn’t fix the amount of time or establish any rhythm, so she didn’t know where his mouth would explore next, but over an endless amount of time she felt like he gained an intimate knowledge of her flesh through taste alone. He stayed away from her nipples, her cunt, as she once again began to get slick for him, needing his mouth, his cock, his fingers, anything. She was shuddering, jerking from every touch of his lips. When he kissed her neck, his body leaning into hers, she wanted to twist her head around, seek the intimacy of his mouth on hers. She needed that contact, because she was starting to feel brittle, the roller coaster of arousal hollowing her out. She didn’t think to ask, too busy struggling with it, but when the first tear rolled down her face, his lips were on her cheekbone.
“What do you need, Celeste? You need to learn to ask, darlin’. Trust me enough to ask.”
“I feel empty. You’re making me want stuff so much it’s scaring me. It hurts. Please.”
“What will help?”
“I don’t know.” She felt a frisson of panic at the question. She needed him to know those answers. She didn’t know them. Keep her tied, untie her? Fuck her, or just cuddle? She couldn’t work any of that out.
“Let’s try this.” He released her ankles and then her hands. Leaning full against her, he sealed his mouth over hers, a warm, wet kiss, his strong arms banding around her, lifting her up against the cross as she twined her own arms and legs around him. The kiss took her under, down below sea level. He murmured against her mouth, a soothing reassurance and a command at once. “Hold on.”
He was moving with her, and then they were sinking down on a couch, her cradled in his lap, the blindfold still in place. His hand slid between her legs and her thighs parted without thought, a little gasp on her lips as he explored her engorged clit. He lifted his head, breaking the kiss then.
“Drop your knees all the way open. Wide as they can go.”
She did and then caught her bottom lip in her teeth as he kept doing those butterfly strokes against her. Labia, clit, circles, tiny taps. After the overstimulation, she expected to be numb. If he’d applied pressure, rubbed too firmly, it would have been uncomfortable. But Leland Keller knew his way around a woman’s cunt. Around her whole body, heart and soul, if she was willing to admit that. He brought her back to life with those bare whispers of contact until she was lifting her hips, reaching for his touch, limited in her motion because she kept her knees open, spread at his command. But the intimate position, her cradled in his lap, her now fully naked body—except for his necklace—pressed against him, fixed that hollow feeling. Though he was wearing jeans and the thin T-shirt, she could feel every muscle and his sheer energy in a way that sheltered and surrounded her.
“Do you want to come again, Celeste?”
She was shaking her head, though she meant yes. She dropped it back onto her shoulders, and he had her, his arm around her back. Two of his fingers slowly pushed into her then, and her lips parted as she swallowed air. Then a third. A fourth.
Her head came back down, and though she couldn’t see with the blindfold still on, she sensed his eyes warm on her face. Intent. “Just relax, darlin’. Totally relax. Trust me. You’re tight, but you want more.”
He did something and suddenly she was feeling fuller, stretched in a not unpleasant but a little unnerving way. His thumb brushed her clit and it was like electricity, making her jump, though his arm constricted further.
“Drop your head back again.”
He kissed his way down her throat, over the slope of her breasts, began to suckle a nipple as she shuddered in his arms. Somewhere along the way she hadn’t cared anymore about their surroundings, about the question of what she would or wouldn’t do in a more public venue. She wanted to do anything with him, trusting him no matter the circumstances. Though there were people here, the dense energy to the room created a heavy, dreamlike state like that which existed when they were alone. The stimulation that came with having witnesses to their pleasure was there, not as a distraction or a worry, but fueling all desires, a continuous build and reinforcement of the releases that were happening again and again, in myriad ways. The scent in the loft was ripe with body heat, sex, perspiration, the fragrances of aftershave, lotions and other oils released from friction, exertion, pleasurable stress.
Every time she thought about how much of his hand might be up inside her, her instinct was to tense up, but then he’d speak or touch or kiss her in a way that reminded her to trust him. Her head would fall back again, her body limp in his arms.
She heard a male voice near her, one that wasn’t Leland’s. She made a hazy attempt to figure out what was happening, but the obvious occurred to her. She didn’t have to. She could trust him.
His hand slowly withdrew, stroking her as he did. Then he removed his shirt, giving her the pleasure of his bare chest and abdomen against her. It was a further intimacy, a reminder of how close he was to her. A second later she understood it was intentional, based on wh
at he planned for her next. His baritone wrapped around her.
“Noah’s Mistress has been so impressed by watching my sub, she sent him over to offer me a gift. He’s going to make you come, at my command, while you’re secure in my arms.”
She felt Noah’s long, clever fingers on her thighs, slow strokes, learning her. His palms were warm and callused, the roughness a shivering pleasure.
“Keep your knees wide open like before. You’re entirely vulnerable, Celeste, but also entirely protected, because I’ve got you. Right?”
She nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.”
She bit back a tremulous sigh as Noah’s mouth traced a path over her mound, her upper thigh. His lips and tongue teased her moistness, learning her, tracing her. As she arched up, Leland made a reproving noise, using the strength of his arm to keep her still.
It was impossible to stay completely still, because Noah’s tongue was tracing her clit, down over her labia. A blink later, vibration accompanied that stimulation, and she remembered the tongue stud. “Oh…oh.”
A deep, tremulous sigh rocked through her as she shuddered in Leland’s arms, moving with the rhythm of Noah’s pleasuring of her. He and Leland both probably knew he and that vibration could rock her back into a climax in no time, short and intense, but Noah took his good old-fashioned time, working her clit up to a more engorged state, making her labia more slick, playing all around that area, nipping at her thighs, rubbing his face in her cunt so she knew he’d take Celeste’s scent back to his Mistress like a trophy.
She kept saying Leland’s name, and he’d answer with quiet sounds, the stroking of his fingers on her face, the kneading of her breast, a tracing of her abdomen. The darkness swirled around her like a cocoon as both men’s barest touch took her higher. Earlier in the day, they’d both been certain that she wouldn’t want another man to touch her, but this was different. It was as if Noah was simply an extension of Leland’s will, a gift he was giving them both to enhance her overwhelming desire to serve her Master.
“Leland…close…really close…”
“It looks like it. Your pussy is a deep-rose color, all wet like after a rain. I want you to come for me, Celeste. Noah’s going to take you down that slide for me. Right…now.”
She had no idea what the man did with the vibrating barbell, the tip of his tongue and the strength of that muscle, the heated moisture of it, but as soon as the words came out of Leland’s mouth, she was hurtling up that ramp as if everything had suddenly hit fast-forward. Her fingers clawed at Leland’s arm, lying in a steel band over her abdomen, below her bare breasts. “Oh…God…please…”
She wailed out her climax again, and Leland covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the cries, rocking her all the way to the end. She jerked and thrashed and did everything she could not to close her knees. Noah helped, holding them down with strong hands, intensifying her reaction so when she came back to ground she felt like confetti someone had shredded and tossed into the air.
“There we go. I have you. It’s all right.” Her Master’s whisper was like the wind carrying those pieces, turning them, holding them. She pressed her face into Leland’s chest as Noah brushed a kiss on her thigh.
“Would you like me to clean her up with my mouth, sir?”
“No. I’ll do that. Thank your Mistress for me, Noah.”
“It’s my pleasure to serve her pleasure.”
It she’d had any energy left, she would have summoned a laugh at the ironic humor in Noah’s voice. He had such a smooth, easy timbre, one that slid over a woman’s nerves like a man’s hand. He gave her another teasing kiss on the opposite thigh, a tiny nip, and then he’d withdrawn, leaving her in Leland’s full care again.
“There you are. Easy. Just rest now. You’re all done. It’s all good.”
She mumbled it against his shirt, so she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her, but he eased her back and slid the blindfold off. She wasn’t sure if she was as brave without the blindfold, but when she saw his expression, completely wrapped in her responses, his golden-brown eyes on her face, the rugged planes of his face suffused with desire for her, the words repeated themselves without any reservation at all.
“I can’t be all done if I haven’t serviced my Master.”
How far had she come, that she would say such a thing and mean it so fervently? She was shaky, but she managed to push against his hold enough to show that she wanted to sink to the floor between his knees. He held her an additional moment, though.
“You want to take my cock in your mouth here. In front of all these other Masters and Mistress?”
She swallowed. “I want them to know I’m yours.” His actions had told them that, but she instinctively knew doing that for him, in front of them, put the stamp on it. Plus, his erection was as hard and straining as it had been right before he’d taken her on the bed, and she wanted to give him release, pleasure.
“Could get messy. I’ve got a powerful need, darlin’.”
Her gaze sparked. “I’m not afraid of getting dirty. Sir.”
He flashed her a dangerous grin. Letting her slide to the floor to her knees, he opened his jeans, then stretched his powerful arms out along either side of the back of the couch, adjusting to a casual sprawl. In that sexy pose, he gave her an intent look that told her the man could genuinely fuck her to death and she’d just ask for more. Especially when he used that tone of command on her, as he did now.
“Get busy, sub.”
Many of the other couples in the room conducting sessions had concluded them, so she could feel their eyes on her, Masters, Mistress and subs, as she gripped his cock, put her mouth on him and began to slide down, down. That was the point. To show him she wasn’t afraid to be seen as his, serving him as a submissive should serve her Master. Completely unafraid, trusting him and the environment, because he’d never put her in a situation that didn’t feel right and true. At its core, it was still about just the two of them, even if she were doing this in the middle of a football stadium.
The drive between them could be urgent, but taking a page out of her Master’s own book, she took her time now, savoring the taste of him, the way the meaty head of his cock stretched her mouth, the salty taste of the pre-come in the slit. When she worked her way down the shaft, she took as much of him as she could, played her tongue over every pulsing vein, every velvety inch of his organ. His balls convulsed when she slipped her hand under them inside his jeans, cradling their weight in her palm. She rubbed them, slow, kneading strokes as she sucked him, went down, came back up. It was like she was at one of those country bars he liked, straddling a mechanical bull, rocking with sensual intent, nothing in the world more important to her than just giving him the same mind-blowing experience he’d given her.
“Look at me when you’re doing that, darlin’. You know I love seeing your eyes on me when your mouth is full of my cock.”
Amazing, given the multiple orgasms she’d had, but his husky command sent tingles through her belly. She lifted her lashes, held his gaze as she continued to work him in her mouth, curl her hand over his base, squeeze and fondle. He reached out, cupped the side of her face in rough fingers. That, and the fact his hips were now twitching, beginning to add his own force to her movements, thrusting his cock into her mouth, said she was on the right track.
He bit back a growl as his fingers traced her lips, stretched over him. “Yeah, that’s it. Going to fuck that pretty mouth all night long. Next time you mouth off to me, that’s what I’ll be thinking about. How putting my cock in there works better for both of us. Doesn’t it, darlin’?”
He chuckled, gave her hair a sharp tug as she nipped him. “Yeah, there’s my brat.”
Her eyes glowing, she went back to playing and sucking, squeezing and fondling. His fingers locked over her shoulder, and now he started to push into her in earnest. Mindful of his order, she kept her eyes on him all the way until the end, because it was obvious how much harder it got him,
seeing her staring up at him like that, his sub serving him on her knees. She could feel the eyes of others on her still, and wondered how many other subs in this room would be serving their Masters the same way shortly, the seed planted in minds on both sides.
His fingers flexed, his cock pulsed and jerked in her mouth, and he started to come. She finally closed her eyes at that first jet, having to turn all her focus toward hanging on, milking the last bit out of him, giving him full satisfaction. She swallowed, choked, swallowed again, kept pumping her head up and down, some of his seed escaping and sliding over her fingers. She didn’t stop, kept going until the grip of his fingers told her he was coming down, that she needed to ease up because his cockhead was getting more sensitive. She was tempted to keep teasing him, but she wasn’t sure if she could handle another punishment, pleasurable as Leland could make it. She’d save that for another time.
Slowly, she slid off of him, licking the sides of his still hard shaft, getting every salty drop of him on her tongue. She sucked on his ridged head, nipped and then licked her fingers while he watched her with a glow in his eyes.
“Come here.” He tucked himself back in and zipped the jeans but left them unbuttoned, apparently too impatient for what he wanted next to wait for that. He drew her back up onto his lap and sealed his mouth over hers in another kiss that promised an endless cycle of wanting between them, no end in sight. She curled her arms around him, held on, hummed her agreement in his mouth, and then let out a little jerk of reaction as he slid his hand between her thighs, putting his fingers back inside her, a slow invasion, cupping her on the outside with the other fingers. “Hold your breasts in both your hands. Tilt them up toward me.”
Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel Page 44
