Dirge (Devastation Trilogy 1)

by Lesli Richardson

  Fuck no.

  Casey returns from the bathroom and slides her panties off, dropping them to the floor. The sight transfixes me for a moment. She shaves her pussy and I don’t know why I never thought about her doing that. I mean, I guess because she’s my wife’s best friend. But Ellen always shaved, too. The bra stays on, but that’s even sexier, somehow.

  She walks around the desk and snaps her fingers at me, then points at Declan’s ass. “Move, George. You can fuck him. Bottle of lube’s on the floor.”

  I reluctantly pull my cock from his mouth and release his head after giving him another good-boy head scratch. The condom pouch is still on his back where she dropped it.

  I grab it and walk around to the other end of the desk while Casey climbs up onto it, thighs spread, with Declan between them and now staring up at her with an expression on his face akin to worship.

  A flash of dark jealousy shoots through me and I don’t know its source or target. Am I jealous that he’s looking at her like that and not me? Or am I jealous she’s about to let him touch her instead of me?

  I don’t know.

  Maybe it’s…both?

  I table that for now.

  She playfully ruffles his hair. “My boy’s a very good boy. And since he’s all loosened up for you, he should throw you an excellent fuck.” She meets my gaze. “Don’t hold back.”

  “I won’t.” I unbutton the top two buttons on my shirt, loosen my tie, and rip everything off and over my head in one motion, undershirt and all, dropping them into the chair I briefly occupied.

  I tear the pouch open with my teeth and quickly roll the condom down my shaft. Even after she got her tubes tied Ellen and I still used condoms for anal, so I’m no stranger to wearing one.

  Because we both loved anal.

  I spot the lube and shove my pants and boxers farther down my thighs before I grab the bottle and squirt some into my hand, slicking my cock with it.

  Then I wipe my hand on the towel under Declan and step into place.

  Holy fuck.

  She braces herself with one arm behind her and uses the other to fist his hair and pull his face into her pussy. He lets out a needy moan, like a starving man given a feast.

  Trust me, I know a few things about starving men.

  “Yeah, boy,” she says. “Just like that.”

  I realize I’m standing there watching instead of fucking. I reach out and grab his left hip to hold him still and circle the base of my cock with my right hand to aim.

  Maybe part of me is convinced this is a dream. That I fell asleep at my desk and I’m finally having something other than nightmares.

  Except the head of my cock breaches his rim, only a thin layer of latex separating me from the first man I’ve ever fucked—my deputy chief of staff and a man I probably should not be fucking—and he and I both let out groans as I easily sink balls-deep inside him.

  “Fuuuuck,” I whisper. I now hold his hips with both hands and take a moment to savor the sensation of being inside someone else for the first time in nearly two years.

  First time I’ve been inside someone besides Ellen in twenty-five years.

  Casey grins and bends her knees, her feet now tucked under Declan. When he lets out another moan and starts rocking himself back and forth, fucking himself on my cock, I realize what she’s doing. She’s pressed the soles of her feet together against his cock and is letting him fuck her like that.

  “He’s so much fun to play with when he’s this damned horny,” she says as she ruffles his hair. Her voice has dropped, deep and throaty now. “I really feel bad I haven’t let him come more lately, but he knows not to ask me for it and I totally lost track of how long it’s been. I asked him at dinner how long it’s been and knew I couldn’t let him go to sleep without giving him a little relief.”

  My fingers clamp down on his hips, forcing him to hold still. Sanity has fled in this moment. I’m pure id unchained right now, and no doubt my super-ego will step in to slap me around tomorrow morning.

  Tonight?

  The boy’s getting himself fucked.

  “So you decided to fuck him at the office instead of his place?” I grit out.

  She giggled. “I didn’t want to be a total bitch and make him drive all the way over to my house tonight, and his apartment has paper-thin walls. The good news is he’s only twenty-fucking-nine, George. Take him home with you, and you’ll be able to get at least two more out of him tonight, and maybe another in the morning, if you get your damn ass out of bed early enough.”

  She taps him on the top of the head. “Make sure you fix him coffee in the morning before you leave. I’d better receive a good report from him when I pick you up.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he mumbles into her pussy.

  I want to watch her, her body, his mouth on her, but I end up looking at his back, the way his muscles bunch and flex as he tries to rock against me. The dip in his spine along his lower back as it travels down to become his tailbone.

  His tight ass, in which my cock is currently buried.

  Fuuuck…

  I take my damn time and breathe through it, finally finding a nice, slow rhythm that will help me last for a while. This whole time, he’s still holding on to the edges of the desk.

  As I settle into my stride, he starts letting out grunts and whines in reply, and from what he’s doing to Casey I guess she isn’t feeling like talking, either. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room as I fuck him, along with the greedy sounds of him licking and sucking on her.

  His ass feels tight and hot, and even through the condom I feel his body grabbing me on every withdrawal, trying to keep me there.

  I smack his left ass cheek, hard, squeezing hard with my fingers and digging in. I’m rewarded with an eagerly hungry moan from him that makes me repeat it on the right, then back and forth.

  Ooooohhhh, fuck yeah.

  His ass is a nice shade of red and covered with handprints when I grab his hips again and grind my cock deep into him. I want to reach down and hold his shoulders for better leverage to plow him, but that might mean incidentally touching Casey and I’m…not ready to do that yet. Not under these circumstances. She could’ve approached me alone in my house and come on to me, and I might have accepted it. She’s the only woman I would have possibly been open to an advance from right now, and maybe not for healthy reasons, either.

  But she didn’t.

  We can talk later.

  For now, I’m enjoying the frantic squirming Declan’s doing between us as he tries to please her and please himself and please me, all at the same time.

  I think me and Casey come about the same time. She’s quiet, and I don’t know if that’s because of where we are or if it’s her normal orgasm voice, but I’m used to staying quiet for naughty sex at work.

  Or, I used to be.

  As I slam home and finish with several deep, vicious thrusts, this orgasm, unlike any other over the past two years, nearly takes my knees out.

  It feels…familiar.

  It feels good.

  It feels satisfying on a cellular level instead of just emptying my balls in the damn shower. I stand there catching my breath, my arms braced on the desk on either side of him, my cock still planted in his ass.

  When I hear Declan’s whining groan, disappointment, I realize Casey’s pulled her feet away. She pushes his head back and pats him before releasing him. “Good boy,” she murmurs.

  But before I can second-guess myself, I grab his right arm and haul him up against my body. I cup his throat with my left hand while I find his cock with my right and start stroking.

  I tip his head back against my shoulder. He’s about five-ten, and he fits perfectly against me. I keep my eyes on Casey even as I whisper in his ear, “Give it to me, boy.”

  The knowing smirk that quirks her lips screams triumph, and I’m not sure why. But my gaze remains locked with hers while my hand, for the first time in my life, is wrapped around a cock that does
n’t belong to me.

  “Come for me, boy,” I whisper in his ear. “Such a good boy.” I don’t know what kinks they have between them, but he just got plowed by me, so the least I can do is give the boy a reach-around in thanks and hopefully not make him feel like a cum dump in the process.

  Because…yeah.

  Now that my sanity is somewhat restored for a few precious moments, I realize I probably should’ve talked to him first, and I’ll be damned lucky if he doesn’t press charges against me.

  Not like sexual harassment, either.

  I’m talking sexual assault.

  Case sits there, splayed in front of us, both arms now braced behind her as she watches us together. Her gaze narrows and her smirk widens while my hand strokes his cock. I have no clue how the guy likes it usually, but he’s trying to move with me. Also, his arms reach behind me, holding him pressed against me.

  Not trying to get away from me, not pushing me away.

  When I lift my head and force my focus off Casey to look him in the eyes, there’s something there in his gaze that pulls on my soul and calls to me. Something between need and desperation and wonder.

  Before I can consider it—because this is not only a night of firsts for me, but a night of saying damn common sense and consequences, full speed ahead—I slant my lips over his in a crushing kiss as I tighten my hand around his throat. That’s when he lifts his right arm and hooks it around my head to hold me in place as he kisses me back.

  A flashback threatens to shove the screaming to the front of my brain, so I kiss him harder, deeper, and anchor myself to him and here and now. My tongue presses into his mouth as our cheeks rasp against each other, mine stubbly, his scruffy mustache and goatee feeling almost soft in contrast.

  I slow the hand stroking his cock, no longer wanting just to get him off.

  I want this to last.

  I kiss him with my eyes wide open, watching his face, the way his eyes drop closed as he softly moans into my mouth.

  In this moment, the boy is mine, completely and without reservation.

  The slither inside me coils around my soul, my heart, my sadist and Dom reaching and grabbing and jealously eager to hold on to this moment forever.

  Figuring out what all this means can happen later.

  Much later.

  His fingers twine in my hair as we kiss. He’s not trying to take control of it—he’s desperate for me to not stop.

  I know the difference, trust me.

  I mean, okay, you have no reason to trust me, because I think this whole thing proves I’m fucking insane, maybe even more than I realized I was. But I know when a submissive wants to be kissed and allowed to orgasm.

  Don’t need a codebook to interpret the signs.

  My left hand squeezes even tighter around his throat, just enough, and he practically melts against me.

  Okay, then.

  Ellen always loved it when I held her throat, too, but I never dared manhandle her like I’m doing with him right now.

  My sadist is eagerly following along with these developments and hoping Casey was serious about Declan spending the night with me.

  From wanting to die and dreading every morning, to now wanting to see what’s going to happen next, in just the span of a fuck.

  Fucks have been given.

  Interesting. I’ve been so used to giving zero fucks lately I’d felt pretty damned dead inside.

  There is something about Declan, and now that he’s hooked into my soul like hell do I want to let him go. Maybe that sounds crazy to you, but I knew there was something different about Ellen, too, when I met her. I knew I was going to marry her. I knew she was special.

  I’d still be married to her today were Fate not a cruel and fickle fucking bitch.

  I have no idea what this is or will be between us, but Declan isn’t leaving my life, no matter what I have to do.

  Because my world this moment is quiet and still, except for the cock-hardening sound of his breathing and moans, and the soft sounds of me jerking him off.

  I tighten my grip on his cock and stroke him faster. I’ve just flipped from wanting to drag this out to getting him home as soon as possible so I can lay him out in my bed and fuck him again.

  Face-to-face this time.

  So I can watch his brown eyes and play with him more.

  So I can make him come with my cock buried inside him and see what he feels like while I do.

  I need this right now, like breath, like sweet, fresh water. Like shade from the sun and food for my empty soul.

  I need him.

  When I suck on his lower lip that’s the final block pulled from the carefully balanced pile to bring him crashing into pleasure. He softly cries out, muffled by my lips. Hot cum slicks my hand as he pumps it out over my fingers. A series of shudders wrack his body and leave him leaning against me, holding on to me to remain upright.

  My hand slows and stills, and I bring it up to his mouth, waiting.

  I don’t have to wait long. His gaze is fixed on mine as his mouth opens and he starts licking my hand clean, sucking every finger.

  Fuck.

  In some ways, it’s like he’s a twin to Ellen.

  But he’s not her.

  He’s not even a her.

  Casey leans forward and turns, her legs together now and closing off that sight, unfortunately. “Now then, gentlemen. New world order, so to speak. Take him home and do whatever you want to him tonight, George. We’ll talk tomorrow over lunch in your office. You need condoms?”

  I start to say no but realize I don’t know if I have any left. We took what we had with us, and—

  I swallow hard when the screaming wants to return, but I stay anchored to his brown gaze and the feel of his lips and tongue on my fingers. Hell, he’s cleaned all his cum off my hand already, but I make him lick each finger again just because it feels so damned good.

  And I don’t want to let go of him yet.

  Thank god his eyes are brown and not green.

  “Yes, please,” I say. “And lube.”

  “Done, and done.” She gets up and retrieves her panties from the floor, sliding them on. “You’re going to need to let go of the boy and go clean up if you want to take him home and fuck his brains out. Unless you want tongues wagging because you’ve marched him downstairs butt naked.” She heads into the bathroom.

  I can’t let him go yet. We stand there staring into each other’s eyes, and I see the moment when his brains finally drop back into his head enough that he’s actually processing and not caught too far up in subspace.

  We’re past the point of consent, I suppose, but I ask it anyway. “Yes to tonight?” I whisper.

  He nods. “Yes, Sir,” he whispers back. “Please.”

  I caress his lips with my thumb. “You are soooo fucked right now. You realize that, right?”

  I feel better when one corner of his mouth quirks in a smile. “I think we both are, Sir.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Then

  “Where does Casey think you are this weekend?” I tease as I drive us back to my apartment.

  My roommate is away at his parents’ house for the weekend, meaning finally, something more than just fooling around here and there can happen between Ellen and me without Casey interrupting us.

  Even better?

  This was Ellen’s idea.

  We’ve been dating for six weeks and I’m even more convinced now than I was before of how perfect she is. Heck yeah, I was willing to wait and take our time to get to this point. Because every moment I spend with her is fantastic.

  “I told her I was spending it with you,” she says.

  I snort. “Bet she wasn’t happy about that.”

  “She doesn’t hate you, George.”

  “She damn sure has a funny way of showing she likes me, then. Maybe that’s why she doesn’t have a boyfriend.” But when I glance at her I hope I didn’t cross a line. Ellen’s wearing a sort of frown as she stares out the windshie
ld.

  “Case didn’t have a good childhood,” she finally says, looking at me. “She’s protective of me. She loves me.”

  I take a deep breath and dial it back. “I’m sorry. I just wish when I’m over there that she wouldn’t be right on top of us and obviously trying to Force choke me with her mind.”

  Ellen giggles. “It would be cool if she could do that.”

  “Maybe if she finds a guy who likes being choked.”

  “Maybe I like being choked.”

  It takes me a moment to process she actually said that, and when I look, I find her wearing a playful grin.

  “Oh, reeeeallly?”

  “Hey, a girl can dream.”

  I reach over, lace fingers with her, and gently squeeze. I know she’s never had intercourse with a guy, but she hinted she’s fooled around before, and I know she’s got toys, because I’ve seen them.

  She actually showed them to me.

  I’m not exactly Casanova, but I hope I don’t disappoint her this weekend.

  When we reach my place, I don’t let her carry her bag. I open and hold the front door of my building for her, as well as my apartment door when I unlock it.

  On the way inside the apartment, she rises up on her toes and brushes a kiss across my lips. “Thank you.”

  My cock hardens, and I don’t even try to hide it now. I haven’t for the past couple of weeks, although I do my best to not be an asshole about it or call attention to it. I don’t “expect” sex from her, ever. Dad—and Mom—metaphorically pounded that into our heads when we got “the talk” from them. That sometimes we’re going to hear no, and we need to be okay with that and take care of things ourselves. Even if we’re halfway—or more—through something with a girl. That it’s always better to roll over and finish ourselves off than get charged with rape.

  And that if we ever did get tried and convicted of rape, it’d be one of the few things they’d disown us over and would forever be ashamed of us for doing. That there was no excuse to put ourselves in a situation where we might pressure a woman.

  That if we had to pressure a woman for sex, we weren’t being very good men, and that meant we needed to fix ourselves. That we didn’t deserve sex if we had to pressure someone for it.