No Limits

by Nicki Bennett

  “Go back to the toy box and get the restraints, two sets. The suede ones.”

  Jonathan rose to his feet and gathered the requested items, returning to kneel at Devon’s feet, breathing in and out slowly to calm the sudden surge of his pulse. The memory of being restrained on the porch of the beach house, of being claimed first by Kit and then by Devon, made his cock throb against the unrelenting ring. He held the flexible leather out silently, hoping he would be allowed to serve his lovers that way again.

  “Kit.” Devon hid a smile at Kit’s eager expression.

  “Yes, Sir?” Kit’s heart pounded at the thought of being restrained, of being at Devon’s mercy.

  “On your feet. Move the toy box and lie down on the table.” Devon registered the slightest slump of Jonathan’s shoulders, promising himself he would be sure to make up for his other sub’s disappointment. “Face up.”

  Kit swallowed forcefully, rising to his feet with as much grace as he could manage. He set the toy box on the floor, bending at the waist to give both his lovers an extra tempting view of his arse, though he doubted they needed tempting at this point, then lay back on the table as Devon had directed, trying to find a comfortable position. In the end, it probably didn’t matter. Devon would position him as suited him best. He was just glad the house came furnished with a suitably sturdy table. He didn’t relish having it collapse under him in the middle of their session.

  Letting Kit’s shimmy go unremarked—the lad really was incorrigible, and it wouldn’t do to reinforce his behavior—Devon ran his hand lightly over Jonathan’s now dry hair instead. “Secure him to the table, Jonathan, hands and feet. Tightly enough to keep him from squirming too much, hmm?”

  Still on his knees, Jonathan turned to fasten the soft leather cuffs around Kit’s ankles, then bind them securely to the legs of the coffee table. He could feel the slight tremor that shook through Kit’s shins as he held them. Wishing he could reassure Kit, he gave the leg he was holding a gentle squeeze before crawling to the other end of the table and securing Kit’s wrists. He couldn’t resist interlacing their fingers for just a moment before straightening up, the length of the table—with Kit’s body stretched across it—between him and Devon.

  “Good boy,” Devon praised, beckoning Jonathan to him. “Even though you’ve already had your fun for this evening”—Jonathan’s heart dropped, fearing he wasn’t going to be allowed to participate in whatever was to come—“I think you deserve a treat for obeying so readily.” Devon picked up the toy box, strolled around the table, and set it at Jonathan’s side. “Pick out a plug for yourself, and I’ll put it in you.”

  Swallowing roughly, Jonathan whispered a quiet “Thank you” before looking down at the jumble of latex in the container, wondering if the plug would be all he was allowed to feel for the rest of the night. Knowing he was already stretched and still slippery from making love with Kit in the shower, he selected a wider plug than he had ever worn before, holding it out to Devon for his approval. “This one, Sir?”

  Devon’s eyebrows rose, but he said nothing, inclining his head and motioning Jonathan toward the couch. Jonathan rested his forearms on the cushions and leaned forward, lifting his hips to present himself to his master.

  Bound to the table, Kit listened to the exchange in silence, his skin still tingling where Jonathan had touched him lightly while fastening the restraints. He hoped he had not gotten Jonathan—or himself—in trouble with Devon, but they hadn’t been in the middle of a scene when they made love in the shower. Surely Devon could not intend to punish them for that! He scolded himself silently. Devon was not Robert, was not unreasonable. If pretending to be put out with them added to their play, he had no doubt Devon would do it, but not because he was truly upset. Letting that thought reassure him, Kit returned his focus to the physical sensation of being restrained. The width of the table left his arms and legs splayed wide, knees lifted, his body stretched out for his lovers’ delectation, yet it seemed their attention was elsewhere. Reminding himself to be patient, that Devon had two subs to take care of, not just one, he tried to calm his breathing and his racing pulse as he wondered what they would do to him once they turned their attention to him.

  After glancing back to reassure himself that Kit was waiting as patiently as could be expected—not that he could do much of anything else—Devon ran an admiring hand down the elegant plane of Jonathan’s back, lingering on the curve of his buttock. Bending forward, he held the plug to Jonathan’s lips, which opened automatically to admit the bulbous head. “Get it good and wet,” Devon advised, watching appreciatively as Jonathan suckled the latex until it glistened with his saliva. Squeezing some lube onto his fingers, he explored the crease of Jonathan’s arse with his other hand, teasing at the opening that would soon be stretched wide to accept the thick plug. The entrance opened to him easily, more proof that Kit had been there before him. Plunging two fingers inside, he coated the clinging channel with the gel, scissoring them to judge if his sub was ready to be claimed. When he felt Jonathan starting to quiver beneath him, he tugged the slick toy from his mouth and plunged it into him, corkscrewing it to ease the way, knowing from the groan Jonathan quickly bit off that the burn was as much pleasurable as it was painful.

  Digging his fingernails into his palms to keep from bucking when the plug pushed into him, Jonathan groaned, his cock jerking against the rough fabric of the couch. Taking a few short, panting breaths, he tried not to clench around the intrusive toy, letting the burn wash over him and focusing instead on the stretch of his guardian muscle, the fullness that pressed against him, hinting at the pleasure he still hoped to earn. Devon’s strong hand caressed his flank, soothing him, and he relaxed further, letting himself sag slightly as his muscles gave up their tension.

  “That’s good.” Devon straightened with a final pat to Jonathan’s hip. “Very good.” He glanced at Kit again, judging by his eager gaze that he had enjoyed watching Jonathan’s reward. “Feeling a bit neglected?” he asked Kit, sauntering back to the toy box and selecting a set of nipple clamps. “You shouldn’t. I have an adornment in mind for you too.”

  Chapter 8: Feeling the Pinch

  KIT’S GROIN tightened as he looked at the pieces of metal in Devon’s hand. He had no idea what they were, but the expression on Devon’s face assured him he’d be finding out soon. “What are they for?” he asked, hoping Devon would talk first and act second.

  Devon raised an eyebrow, his glance clearly reminding Kit that he was once again overstepping his limits by speaking out of turn. “They’re for expanding your horizons,” he answered with a cocky smile, echoing Kit’s comment of a few minutes earlier. Without warning, Devon bent over and grasped one of Kit’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Tugging until it hardened, he twisted it slightly, his mouth twitching at the gasp Kit made no effort to hold in. You haven’t felt anything yet, lad, Devon thought. He squeezed one of the clamps open, then closed it over the distended nub, careful to keep the tension from becoming too tight.

  Devon’s words both reassured and unnerved Kit. Then the clamp closed over one nipple, replacing the pressure of Devon’s fingers, and sensation exploded outward. “Shit!” he cursed before he could consider how that response might affect Devon and Jonathan. “Oh fuck, that hurts!” He panted as the pain radiated out and then settled in, no longer unbearable, but a backdrop for whatever was to come. His whole body felt sensitized, as if the pressure on his nipple had somehow lit up every nerve.

  Jonathan clenched his fingers into his thighs to keep from jumping up when Kit cried out in pain. Trust Devon, he told himself sharply, his gaze flickering from Kit’s face to Devon’s and back to Kit’s again, reassured by what he saw there. You said you trusted him—he knows Kit’s limits by now. He won’t go beyond what Kit can take.

  Devon watched Kit closely, recognizing the moment his body transcended the pain. He traced the dusky aureole gently with a long finger, avoiding the clamp itself. “All right, then?” he ask
ed softly.

  “Yeah,” Kit husked, the tender touch as arousing as any more intimate caress. “He would never have asked, you know,” he added, hoping he was not going too far.

  The unspoken trust in Kit’s assurance made Devon close his eyes for a moment, letting his confidence settle back over himself. He could do this. Breathing deeply, he opened his eyes and slid back into his role. “Still talking out of turn,” he chided, though his voice was warm. “And I didn’t hear you address me properly.”

  “Yes, Sir, I’m fine, Sir, thank you for asking, Sir,” Kit parroted immediately, a cheeky smile on his face now that he knew his comment had not destroyed the mood of the evening. Memories of the two swats Devon had given him in the bathroom assailed him, the thought of feeling their like now, when his skin was so much more sensitive from the clamp, making his cock leak a little despite the constriction holding back his release.

  “Brat.” Devon laughed, bouncing the second clip in his palm. He tweaked Kit’s other nipple a little more firmly, prepping it for the pinch before he fixed the remaining clamp around it. He glanced over his shoulder at Jonathan, still kneeling quietly behind him. “Come look at this, Jon,” he invited. “Doesn’t he look good in them?”

  Shuffling forward, Jonathan moved to the side of the table opposite Devon, the plug that stretched him shifting inside with each movement. “Beautiful,” he whispered. Now that he was close enough, he saw that the clamps were shaped like delicate tweezers, a silver ball threaded over the legs to adjust the tension, a cluster of crystal beads dangling from fine chains at the tip. The silver clasps glinted against the dark circles of Kit’s nipples. He wondered whether Devon had bought them with Kit in mind. “They’re beautiful, Sir. He’s beautiful.”

  Jonathan’s reaction made Kit’s chest puff with pride. He wanted his lovers to find him beautiful, to desire him as strongly as he desired them, as he loved both of them. “Just for you,” he murmured. “Sir,” he added guiltily after a long enough pause to reveal his forgetfulness once again.

  “There are chains,” Devon said thoughtfully, trailing his finger from one clamp to the other, “that connect from here to here. They’d pull on the clamps when you move, and they’d look so good against your skin. Maybe next time you can earn those.” His cock throbbed at the image, but it was more than Kit was ready for, he knew. He would save them for another session.

  Kit felt the subtle reprimand as sharply as any harsh word. He bit his lip, holding back the comment that bubbled up of its own accord, his eyes sliding sideways to Jonathan’s still, composed form. He envied Jonathan’s easy acceptance of the sub mentality when they played their games. He had no illusions that Jonathan’s submissiveness would carry over to other areas of their lives, yet Kit did not seem able to give up that last bit of control the way Jonathan did.

  Jonathan bit back a moan at Devon’s description, imagining the graceful sway of silver links as Kit walked, imagining Kit’s face as Devon gently tugged on the chains. The mental picture was so vivid he almost didn’t hear Devon’s voice the first time he spoke.

  “So, what should we do with our beautiful boy, Jonathan? What would you like to do to him?”

  Breathing in deeply, Jonathan let go of his own need, settling in the place where all that mattered was his lovers—obeying Devon’s commands, watching over Kit, giving them both pleasure through his yielding to them. His own arousal didn’t disappear, but he was able to subdue it, knowing his reward would be all the sweeter for having seen to theirs first. “Whatever would please you most, Sir,” Jonathan answered truthfully.

  “Touch me,” Kit pleaded immediately, every inch of his skin begging for attention. Turning to look at Devon, he continued, “Just let him touch me, Sir. Please.”

  “Would you like that, Jonathan?” Devon asked. The temptation to touch Kit himself was strong, but watching Jonathan would be almost as erotic, and the sub had been so obedient he deserved some reward. “Would you like to touch Kit?”

  “Fuck, yes,” Jonathan groaned. “Please, Sir, let me please you both.”

  Kit nodded enthusiastically, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from repeating his plea, not wanting Devon to refuse because he was being “cheeky.”

  Devon stretched onto the couch, leaning against the cushions and letting one hand tease the damp head of his cock. “Go ahead, then,” he told Jonathan. “Show me how much you can please us both. Touch him anywhere, any way you like—except his cock,” he added, almost as an afterthought. “Make him come that way, if you can, and then I’ll fuck you.”

  Jonathan’s muscles clenched around the plug at the promise in Devon’s words. “Oh fuck, yeah,” he murmured, already feeling Devon’s thick cock reaming him instead of the lifeless toy. “Want that, Sir. Want you inside me.” Pushing his weight off his heels, he shifted up, eager to lavish pleasure on Kit, even if he couldn’t suck him the way he wanted to. Seeing the way Kit’s cock already leaked against his stomach despite its constraint, he paused, glancing back at Devon. “Should I take off his ring, Sir?”

  “Leave it on,” Devon commanded. “Maybe it will remind him he’s only to speak when he’s given permission, since nothing else seems to.”

  “If you want me to be quiet,” Kit replied cockily as his body thrummed with anticipation, “put something in my mouth.” Hungrily, he eyed the cock Devon was stroking, hoping he might get a taste of it.

  “Keep talking and you might be surprised what I put in your mouth,” Devon answered. Kit was incorrigible, but he’d just given Devon the excuse he needed to put another of his toys to good use. He considered commanding Jonathan to retrieve it, but his sub was kneeling so patiently, albeit with the look of a starving man staring through a restaurant window, that he didn’t have the heart to make him wait any longer. “See if you can shut him up, Jonathan,” he ordered.

  The permission he’d been silently pleading for granted, Jonathan nodded, mindful that Devon seemed disinclined to listen to chatter. As he crawled to the table, the plug was a constant reminder of the reward he would earn if he performed well. He didn’t mind having to wait for his own fulfillment; giving pleasure to Kit, and by extension to Devon, was no hardship as far as he was concerned. Stopping when he reached the side of the table, he knelt again and studied Kit’s face, reassured to see nothing but desire and an undercurrent of mischief in the wide brown eyes.

  “Come on, Jonathan,” Kit teased softly, hoping Devon wouldn’t be able to hear him. “I know you can figure out some way to keep me quiet… or at least make me incapable of speech.”

  The part of Jonathan’s head that had already embraced his submissive role was startled at such blatant disobedience, but Kit’s impishness still couldn’t help but make him smile—it was as natural as his charm and his beauty. Leaning forward, Jonathan dragged his thumb over Kit’s lips, lingering while his fingers caressed his cheek. “Shhhh,” he whispered almost soundlessly at Kit’s mock pout. He wondered if he dared to kiss Kit into silence. He glanced up at Devon, sprawled in catlike elegance on the couch, watching them with an amused look in his eyes. Their Dom didn’t say anything, and after all, he had given Jonathan permission to touch “anywhere, any way he liked.” Giving in to his own longing, Jonathan placed a hand on either side of Kit’s head and kissed him.

  Kit turned immediately into the kiss, giving Jonathan complete control of his mouth and their interaction. Bound as he was, he had little choice, but that did not even figure in his thoughts. All he knew was the touch of firm lips against his, gentle hands on his face, a beginning of respite for the desire throbbing through him, centered in his clamped nipples and his bound cock. His cock would not be receiving any attention—Devon’s orders—but perhaps Jonathan would touch the clamps, adding to the mixture of pleasure and pain that already had Kit so on edge.

  Jonathan began the kiss gently, tenderly nibbling at Kit’s lips, resisting the temptation to taste him at once deeply and hungrily. He would have to build Kit’s arousal without touchin
g his most sensitive flesh, and to do that he would take his time, layering sensation on sensation. He wound the fingers of one hand into Kit’s hair, caressing his scalp, while the other followed the line of his jaw and the long, slim neck and throat. When Kit’s head lifted to seek more contact, Jonathan let his tongue trace the outline of slender lips, accepting the unspoken invitation when they parted beneath him.

  The kiss was so much what Kit needed and yet not at all what he had expected. Devon’s words, the command he had given Jonathan, combined with the clamps, already had him fiercely aroused. It wouldn’t have taken much, when Jonathan first knelt beside him, to make Kit come. A few tugs on the clamps, a couple of fingers in his arse, and cock ring or no, he would have climaxed. The kiss Jonathan was bestowing on him now had no connection to that level of tension. Jonathan’s mouth, Jonathan’s hands, soothed him, eased the passion riding him, brought him down from the shock of pain from the clamps and the surge of arousal at being bound at Devon and Jonathan’s mercy. His heart swelled with love, as it did every time either of his lovers kissed him, amazement at how well they knew him, how easily they gave him exactly what he needed, warming him in a far more lasting way than any surge of lust.

  Watching the two kiss slowly, almost languidly, surprised Devon at first. As keyed up as Kit had been, as long as he’d made Jonathan wait, he’d expected their first kiss to be explosive. He should have known better, reminding himself that he was not watching two near-strangers whose only interest was achieving physical release. These were lovers—his lovers—and watching them show their love in every touch of lips and fingers made him hungry to claim his share of the banquet. By the rules he had laid down, though, he could only do that once Jonathan made Kit come. It was time to step things along.