And then his cool mouth was on her asshole, tongue rimming the tight ring with deliberate, teasing strokes that made her gasp and arch. The extreme intimacy sparked a wildfire through her veins, gasps turning to moans as he pinned her with pleasure, dominant even in giving. She’d demanded this of submissive men, but never would she have asked it of Zander. And yet, he chose to, and in the process, overwhelmed her with wicked bliss until she writhed beneath him.
When she was nearly crazy with need, he rose, lubed himself, and pressed into her ass inexorably slow, the burn both sharp and sweet, pain blooming vividly as he stretchedher wide. Inch by inch he claimed her, his cool length contrasting her heat until he was seated deep, the fullness overwhelming while visceral waves of pleasure-pain crashed through her.
And then he moved, pounding her with controlled power, thrusts deep and measured, dragging over nerves that lit her like fire, building her to the brink again and again.
Her next orgasm was a slow, rolling wave that left her clenching around him, crying out. The second was sharper, her body convulsing as he angled just right, pain twisting into ecstasy. The next a shattering detonation that tore screams from her throat and sent her out of her body to a place with colors not normally seen. Love and surrender flooded her in endless pulses, and yet another release swamped her with a deep, bone-melting crest that left her limp and gasping, raw tenderness inside a delicious echo of his possession.
Time blurred in sweat-slicked skin and tangled limbs, power ebbing and flowing between them — equals in the storm, clashing and yielding until exhaustion threatened. And still, they danced, their bodies moving and thrusting, riding and squeezing, two dominant personalities giving and taking.
When they finally stilled, the only sounds in the room were the ragged breaths of all three, and the soft, inevitable creaks of the ropes as Spence strained and shifted above them, unable to remain perfectly still against the slow, relentless build of ache that had claimed him over the past hours. Emmy’s gaze met his and she saw only raw, unwavering devotion.
Chapter 18
Spence had lost track of time somewhere between the slow, relentless build of ache in his muscles and tendons, and the deeper, throbbing burn that radiated from his stretched balls. Every small shift sent fresh waves of fire through nerves compressed too long against unyielding rope, but it was impossible to stay still.
The weights swung gently with his breathing, a constant, merciless tug that kept him teetering on the knife-edge of pain and surrender, his body a living testament to their claim. He watched them through half-lidded eyes, his lovers tangling on the bed below, bodies moving and writhing, her cries and his growls weaving together like music.
His entire body throbbed, radiating devotion in the language of pain, every pulse, every heartbeat anotherstorm of sensation. And after every one, he didn’t think he could possibly bear another. And yet, he did.
Relief finally came when Zander climbed the stool and slid his cool arms around him, cradling him close. The shift was immediate, his weight redistributed, pressure easing from abraded skin and compressed nerves, burning muscles instantly relieved. Spence’s breath stuttered out in a broken sigh, head falling to rest against Zander’s shoulder, the scent of cool night and faint sweat enveloping.
Emmy moved a chair over, climbed on it, and used safety shears to snip the supporting lines near the ceiling ring, then released his wrist from his ankle, allowing his body to straighten, and he pulled more air into his lungs than he’d managed since being folded backwards.
Zander came down the stepstool and settled Spence gently onto his side on the wide bed, the mattress cradling his bruised body. The weights settled against the sheets, the downward pull on his balls easing to a dull, throbbing ache instead of sharp fire, skin no longer stretched to breaking, balls no longer compressed until he thought they might rupture in the sac.
His Masters worked in tandem, both with shears in hand. His bound leg straightened in a rush of pins-and-needles bliss, the other allowed to bend, relieving muscles strained far past endurance.
More ropes fell away, diamonds unraveling from his torso, the deep bite around his ribs loosening until he coulddraw a full, glorious breath that expanded his chest without restraint.
He wiggled his toes, muscles sighing in relief, joints popping softly as circulation returned in warm tides.
Finally, Zander’s cool fingers circled the rings between his body and balls, and eased the cruel donuts off. Blood and feeling surged back in a single merciless wave, sharp enough to blacken the edges of his vision, a broken sound tearing from his throat as his nerves screamed awake.
Emmy’s hands were there before he could breathe again, slick with lube, wrapping around his cock in a slow, gliding stroke that drew a helpless moan from deep in his chest, the touch exquisite after hanging in agony, every nerve alight, pleasure coiling hot and urgent. Zander moved behind him, easing the huge plug in his ass free, leaving him empty and aching — but then cool lube was injected inside him, and he knew what came next.
Moments blurred. Strong hands adjusted him, positioning him between Emmy’s thighs, her body warm and open beneath him. His cock, guided by gentle fingers, nudged her tight ring, and Zander’s hand pushed him from behind until he found himself sinking into the velvet heat of her ass in a slow, inevitable glide that stole his breath entirely. The grip was fierce,perfect, her walls clenching around him as he seated deep, the sensation overwhelming after the long suspension.
Without a chance to catch his breath, Zander pressed in behind him seconds later, the vampire’s cool thicknessbreaching him in a single, claiming thrust that punched the air from Spence’s lungs.
He hadn’t recovered, muscles still quivering from the ropes, nerves singing from returning blood flow, balls still screaming, it was too much, he couldn’t…
No. He stopped himself andbreathed. He only had to accept, to be where they put him. To be a vessel for their pleasure.
Zander pounded him hard, the relentless rhythm driving Spence deeper into Emmy with every slam, his body a perfect, brutal conduit. She reached up between them and grasped his nipples, nails embedding, and twisted.
Spence gasped and yelped, pain flaring out of the blue. His body writhed, the twist sending fire straight to his cock buried in her ass, pleasure-pain twisting tighter as Zander’s thrusts battered his prostate without mercy.
“Oh yes,” Zander said. “Do that again. Love the way his ass grabs me.”
Her nails dug deeper, the twist harsher, and Spence writhed again, his cock pulsing, and he very nearly came, but his Master warned, “You don’t have permission to come, boy.”
This apparently set Emmy off, and she gave a low, keening cry as her body clenched around him, milking his length in rhythmic spasms that dragged him closer to the edge he wasn’t allowed to cross.
“Not yet,” Zander growled, hand fisting Spence’s hair to arch him back. “Do you belong to us or not, boy?”
Us. Not just Zander. He was owned by two people now. He’d disappoint them both if he spilled without permission.
Somehow, he managed to hold onto it, his breath ragged, balls throbbing with denied need. He was raw inside from the pounding, but floated in the exquisite torment of service.
