Naughty Wishes Part IV

by Joey W. Hill

  "Let's go see some of the vendor stuff," Geoff said.

  As they helped her up and guided her back into the large foyer, they both stayed close. She was in a hazy cloud of arousal and sharp need, and hyperaware that the thong she wore had to be obviously wet with arousal. Fortunately, she saw the same evidence in other scantily clad audience members, though she wasn't entirely sure it would have mattered to her regardless. Not in this state.

  Some of the vendors were craftspeople whose wares Sam recognized from Madison's shop, but there were others as well. She and Chris browsed a booth with boxes of vintage erotic postcards. The collections were sold by a wizened old man who told them stories about being part of the original Leatherman movement in the sixties. Chris bought a few he liked, adding in the several she wanted to purchase. From there, they wandered with Geoff past booths offering paraffin wax, restraint systems, handcrafted whips and impact play toys.

  When they reached the table that advertised Logan's custom BDSM furniture, there were pictures on display and a couple of actual pieces people could examine hands-on. Troy was manning the booth and gave Sam a grin, coupled with an appreciative look. He'd pulled on a pair of jeans but was still shirtless, so she couldn't help but steal a reciprocating appraisal. Though she bit her lips against a smile as Chris's hand slid along her waist, giving her ass a not-so-subtle reproving pinch.

  "Just looking, not buying," she muttered and stifled a yelp as Geoff gave her an even harder pinch on the other buttock.

  "The mask and corset look gorgeous on you," Troy said, either actually oblivious to the exchange or trying to save her from further retaliation. He slanted a glance at Geoff. "If you don't mind me saying."

  "It's only the truth," Geoff said. He examined the large cross-shaped frame. "This says it unhinges for easy storage?"

  "Way easy. It stays in one piece, but folds." As Troy turned to show Geoff, Sam's gaze slid over the faint red marks on his back, fading souvenirs from Shale's whip play with him.

  "Would you like to touch them?"

  She turned to see Shale watching from a corner. She was sitting on a stool, sipping a canned soda. The Domme's gaze was so direct, so unflinching, it added to her both intriguing and intimidating demeanor. She rose, passing her hand over Troy's back. He instantly stilled at her touch, straightened. "It's interesting," Shale remarked to Geoff. "Subs often like to touch the marks on another sub, as if they can absorb the reaction."

  Geoff met Shale's gaze, then shifted his attention to Sam. "You want to ask me for something, Sam?"

  She bit her lip. Chris was a quiet presence to her left. "May I touch, Master? If it's okay with . . . both of you."

  She wondered if she needed to explain that it wasn't about touching another man. Shale couldn't have described it more accurately. Her fingers were itching to touch evidence of a type of play that intrigued her, that she might want her Master to do to her.

  Geoff glanced at Chris, but whatever he saw there satisfied him. He nodded. Sam slid her fingertips over the marks, just below where Shale kept her hand against Troy's nape. When Troy turned his head to look at her, Sam had to ask, "Did it hurt?"

  "In all good ways. It gets bad at a certain point, and I think I'm going to safe-word, but I break through that point. It's like I'm channeling how she feels about it, which balances the pain. And then . . . I fly."

  Sam took her hand away and murmured her thanks. Geoff spoke to Troy another few minutes about the cross, then they left Troy and Shale to visit the next booth. The vendor there was a man whose short limbs and stature indicated dwarfism. When Sam met his steady blue eyes, she was intrigued. Studying his strong features and atypical stature, she wondered what his story was, how it had brought him here. From the quirk of his lips and gleam of appreciation in his gaze as he studied her, she was pretty sure he was a Dom. He had a square jaw and a tangled mop of dark hair, but the handsome face only contributed to the compelling attitude he projected.

  His card read Grant Juneau. Grant was offering different strike-branding techniques. Electric, freeze branding, heat. Sam thought any of it would be terribly painful, but Grant explained that when being done for marking, the contact was quick. The mark would remain anywhere from six to eighteen months.

  "Hurts less than tattooing," he said to Geoff. "And a lot less expensive way to put a mark of ownership on your sub or slave."

  Geoff glanced at Chris quizzically. Chris lifted a shoulder. "I don't really want to mark her skin that way."

  "How about me marking yours?"

  Chris blinked. Geoff's hazel eyes were sharp. "You remember that blood oath we made?"

  "A blood oath?" Sam asked.

  Chris grimaced, with humor. But she noticed his brown eyes were bemused, showing how very aware he was of Geoff as he shifted behind Chris, stroking his back around and beneath the hold of the harness straps. He tugged on a metal link hard enough to make Chris brace himself against the pull before Geoff dropped lower, fondling the curve of Chris's ass in the formfitting pants. Chris's head tilted as Geoff tucked fingertips beneath the waistband, caressing the dip between his buttocks.

  "Watch her breathing, Chris. She gets so turned on when I touch you. Think she'd get even hotter if I branded my initial into your shoulder, here?" He traced the spot as Chris's eyes moved to Sam's entranced face.

  Geoff lifted his gaze to Sam. "We'd just turned twelve. The oath was a promise to never let women come between us, inspired by the sudden loss of three of our friends who'd fallen under their diabolical spell. It ruined our afternoon baseball games, because those guys wanted to hang out with icky girls instead of meeting up to play."

  Sam smiled but the smile died as Geoff wrapped his fingers around the base of Chris's throat on one side. When Chris's muscles tensed, Geoff soothed him by sliding the other hand back down his arm, threading it between elbow and back to put him in a light restraint hold. Chris could throw him off, but when Geoff tightened his grip, Chris went more still.

  "His pulse is hammering." Geoff pressed against Chris's back. "You feel my cock? I plan to have it in both of you tonight. I like the idea of branding your flesh, Chris. I like it a whole fucking lot. What do you think?"

  Chris was silent for a moment, then Sam saw him curl the fingers behind his back into Geoff's shirt, as much as the position allowed. "I want that," Chris said. His gaze met hers, and suddenly an erotic moment opened up into something far more, bringing forth everything that had led to this moment. Chris's expression became brilliant with emotions that tied her heart up in a dozen ways, all of them connected to her two men.

  "I want you both to know I'm yours," he murmured. "Every part of me. If I could figure out a way to brand it on my heart and soul, I would. You can destroy me with nothing but a word. It fucking scares me like nothing else, and it makes me happier than I've ever been in my life."

  He'd mesmerized her, drawing her closer with every word. She gripped the straps of the harness as Geoff slid an arm over his chest, overlapping her tight fingers. He pressed a hard kiss on Chris's shoulder and Chris brushed his head against Geoff, a fierce gesture of tenderness.

  "Sam, go pick out a G," Geoff ordered roughly. "And one you'd like him to have."

  There was no shame and definitely no choice in her need to collect and compose herself before approaching the vendor. Grant had busied himself in his booth, but Sam knew he'd stayed tuned in to them, and not just because he was a smart man who understood when he was close to making a sale. When she stepped up to his table, his expression was warm and knowing, as if he understood just what kind of feelings she was experiencing from Chris's unexpected declaration. "These two," she said quietly, touching a brand shaped like a bird and the G brand next to it.

  Grant's blue eyes passed over her outfit, the bird mask, and he nodded with a faint smile. "The G is a freeze brand, and the bird is a heat brand." He quoted the price to her as Geoff and Chris drew closer, standing shoulder to shoulder again. Geoff handed her the money. After pocketing it,
the vendor motioned to Chris to come around into his application space. Gauging Chris's height, he pulled over his taller stepping stool. "You sit on this. I'll step on the other so I can get the right angle to apply them evenly."

  Chris complied. Sam shifted so she and Geoff could face him together. Geoff took her hand. "Breathe," he said. "If you pass out, I'll make fun of you."

  She rolled her eyes at him. Grant had said it wasn't any worse than getting a tattoo, but she still held her breath a little bit. Sensing her trepidation, Chris grasped her other hand and smiled. It was quick, no more than a blink, and Chris didn't even flinch. She came around at Grant's gesture so she could see the new imprints.

  "They look pretty widely spaced out, but that's because they'll get a lot bigger over the next few hours. You can touch it lightly, but try not to touch it too much during that period." Grant picked up her hand to rest her fingertips on the G representing Geoff's name. Grant's grip was surprisingly firm and strong.

  "You can look at them to your heart's content, beautiful bird. He looks like he spends a lot of time in the sun. Even when they start to fade, they'll remain lighter than his natural tan, so you'll see it show up that way for quite a while."

  He gave them the rundown on the safety tips to keep it uninfected, and then he was turning to another knot of customers. They'd drawn an audience, people wanting to watch Chris be branded, and several now took advantage of Grant's services.

  Sam wanted to touch the brands again, but mindful of Grant's warning about overdoing it, she settled for just looking at them. "I should pay for the bird," she told Geoff. "That one was more for me."

  Geoff shook his head. "No. It's proof that you're his as much as mine, something I particularly want him to remember."

  Chris gave him an inscrutable look, then tilted his head to look down at her. "Like it?" he said.

  She nodded and watched his lips tighten in reaction as Geoff touched the G with a brief fingertip. When Chris lifted his gaze to meet Geoff's, heat flashed between them.

  "I think it's time to go home," Geoff said. "I want to be alone with you both."

  ***

  They had her step back into her skirt and Geoff wrapped the shawl around her shoulders before they left the building. Chris had changed back into street clothes, though she expected they wouldn't have any problem getting him to wear that scintillating outfit again, now that he'd seen firsthand how much she and Geoff had enjoyed him in it.

  Geoff or Chris always opened the car door for her before getting in their own seats. This time, when they went into the parking lot, Chris touched her arm, holding her in place as he took the backseat, pulled off his shirt so it wasn't chafing the brand and then drew her back there to sit on his lap. He pulled the belt over both of them, Geoff reaching in from the other side to help to fasten it. It pressed into the corset and against her shoulder, holding her closer to Chris's bare chest. His hands slid down her thighs, helping her adjust. She made a little noise as he pressed her against his groin, and she saw the flash of Geoff's teeth.

  "Got a couple of lumps in that seat, Samantha Beth?"

  "Comfort is overrated," she said, rotating her hips against Chris playfully and earning a grunt from him. Geoff undid the mask, sliding it from her face and combing his fingers through her hair to loosen it from its binding. He brought it tumbling down on her bare shoulders. Chris rubbed his face in it as he liked to do, and Sam dropped her head back against the passenger window as he removed the shawl and kissed the rise of her breasts.

  "There's our girl," Geoff said. He got into the front seat and turned over the ignition. "Keep her occupied, Chris."

  "Gladly." Guiding her arm around his neck, Chris speared her with a look that sent tingles from her nape to the base of her spine. "Guess I'll have to figure out ways to keep you moving like that." Wrapping his hand in her hair, he held her head back forcibly and began to feast on her throat, working his mouth along her jugular, down to the meeting point between the collarbones, along the sternum and then back to the pillow of her breasts, his tongue curling inside the corset to find her nipple.

  "Oh God . . ." She clutched his shoulder. It seemed like she'd been in an edgy state of arousal for hours now, a state that surged to the forefront as he played with her nipples with his tongue, teased her skin with his mouth, all the way home. She writhed and squirmed, his damp, muscled skin pressed against her. She was panting, moaning, pleading, but neither man took mercy on her. Geoff was even humming as he was driving, something Mr. Road Rage never did. Maybe she'd recommend having her in an erotic frenzy every time he drove to keep his mind off of homicidal behavior. Another sacrifice she was willing to make.

  She didn't care who might be looking in at the stoplights, trying to see what they were doing. "Please . . ."

  Chris shook his head and lifted his face. "I like you like this. I'm beginning to get why it makes Geoff hard and hot. So be quiet and just take it."

  Wow. He didn't say it mean, but his unrelenting tone had her shuddering in his grip. She could feel Geoff's attention, sharpening on them when Chris got tough like that. Their desires were like blades closing in on both sides, and she welcomed the edges.

  They pulled into the driveway. She wasn't sure she'd make it into the house on her own, but she didn't need to worry about that. Geoff came around to open their door. Chris unbuckled the seat belt and lifted her into Geoff's grasp. Her Master steadied her on her feet and put a proprietary hand on her ass, holding her there.

  "You getting all worked up with her behind my back just makes me want to kick your ass and then ram into it. You know that, don't you?"

  Chris tossed him a challenging look. "Maybe I'll do it to you first. And then take her while you're figuring out how to walk."

  Geoff bared his teeth, but she saw the light in his eyes, reflected in Chris's grin. "Big talk. Inside," Geoff said.

  Geoff picked Sam up and carried her up the driveway as Chris preceded them, opening the door. Once inside, Geoff put her down on a chair in their living room with deliberate gentleness. He lifted her hand and kissed it. "Just one moment," he promised her.

  He turned, caught Chris by the shoulders and slammed him up against the wall, making her gasp. In the next second, he was kissing him just as ravenously as Chris had kissed her. Sam tucked her knees beneath her and pivoted on the chair so she could watch them, her fingers curled in the top cushion. All the evening's stimulation was culminating into this, charging the room with an explosive heat that radiated among all three of them, reckless, careless and radical emotions charging the air.

  Chris fought and reversed their positions, pushing Geoff against the wall, his hands wandering hungrily over him, ripping the black dress shirt open as Geoff half laughed, half cursed against his mouth. He put his hand on Chris's shoulder, half covering the brand, but immediately realized where he was and shifted his touch. Sam was strangely overwhelmed, seeing that studied gesture of care inserted into the animal desire between them.

  Geoff straight-armed Chris. "Get out of your clothes, all of them." Pushing him away, he moved into the kitchen, pulled out one of the sturdy chairs and pointed to it. "And sit your ass there."

  Chris's gaze was all sensual fire, but he shed the jeans, underwear and shoes. Geoff had plans for her as well. "Lose the skirt and the panties, Samantha Beth. Leave the stockings, shoes and corset. Then come over here."

  She came to him, every inch of her sizzling with awareness, aching for contact. Geoff unhooked the corset and unwrapped it from her body. Tossing it to the side, he left her in only the heels and thigh-high stockings.

  "With the shoes or without?" He cocked a brow at Chris.

  Chris had taken a seat in the chair, thighs spread, cock erect and against his belly, his arms crossed. He took his time examining her before answering Geoff, gaze sliding over the high heels, up her legs to her hips and mons, her stomach, breasts, shoulders and waiting face. "Without. She's hot as hell like that, but my favorite way of having her is just as o
ur girl. Our Sam."

  "Agreed. Take hold of yourself, stroke your dick."

  Chris's gaze shifted to him. "For her or you?"

  "Does it matter?" Geoff's brow lifted.

  "No. Except I like to hear it's making you just as crazy as you two are making me."

  "If you have any doubts about that, I'm about to clear that up in a way that you'll feel for a few days." Geoff flashed a wicked grin. Taking Sam's arm, he held her in place and waited pointedly until Chris clasped his cock and began to pump it. While doing that, Chris hooked his elbow over the back of the chair, a casual, sexy look enhanced by the kindling gaze he fixed on them.

  Geoff bent to whisper in her ear. "Watching him do that, what do you want, Sam?"

  "Him inside me. Now."

  "Yeah. Ask me for that. And you better look at your Master when you beg."

  She expected he knew just how difficult it was to tear her attention from what Chris was doing. "Please, Master. I need him."

  "You sure as hell do. I can smell how aroused you are." He propelled her over to Chris. With that effortless strength they both did so well, he lifted her to straddle Chris's lap. Chris held his cock with one hand, gripping her buttock with the other, and he and Geoff together slid her down on his length in a decisive, penetrating lock that had her gasping, letting out a little cry of pleasure and discomfort at once because of his size.

  "Easy there, sweetheart." Geoff helped her adjust, then left her with Chris's arms securely around her body, moving her in a slow rise and fall. Stepping back, Geoff stripped. "Bring her back, Chris."

  As Chris lowered her backward, hands at her waist, Geoff took her down even farther until her upper torso formed a ninety-degree angle with Chris's. Her hands slipped from Chris's shoulders to his forearms, then his wrists. The men's grips were steady and strong as Chris kept that sliding movement in and out of her, his hips flexing on the seat. Geoff cupped her head, holding her, watching her. Then he gave her an order.

  "Put your arms above your head, Samantha Beth."

  She obeyed, trusting his palm on her skull to hold her up. As soon as she did it, he turned his back to Chris and straddled her, his inner thighs pressed against the sides of her breasts. The position allowed her to wrap her arms around his thighs and dig her fingers into his tight ass, so she was glad he didn't object to that, though his hand still supported her head.