“You came so fucking well,” he whispers roughly. “While you recover, I’m going to play with the poet.”
I nod, scooting backward and propping myself against the pillows for a better view.
Raoul sits back on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks infinitely pleased with himself, and rightfully so. He ate me out beautifully.
But he doesn’t have more than a moment to enjoy his triumph, because the Angel catches him by the jaw and says, “Will you trust me?”
Raoul’s throat jerks as he swallows. “Yes?”
“Do you remember what I said to you earlier? That I might tie you up and edge you until you scream?”
Faintly, Raoul says, “Yes.”
“That is the game we will play.” The Angel tilts his masked face aside like a raptor watching prey and trails his fingers down Raoul’s chest. “You are safe. I will not harm you. If you want the game to end, simply say, ‘I’m done.’ Do you understand?”
I can hear Raoul’s heartbeat, quick with fear…or perhaps excitement. People like us, who have endured terrible things, sometimes have darker needs. We crave something a little twisted, something to command our minds entirely, to pull us out of ourselves and set us free to enjoy the wildest heights of pleasure. My head holds so many fantasies I’ve never been able to realize, and perhaps these two beautiful men are the same way. I sense that this bondage game between Raoul and the Angel is something Raoul secretly craves, and somehow, the Angel knows it.
He makes Raoul stand between the posts at the end of the bed, then ties Raoul’s wrists to the posts so his arms are stretched in a V shape. He fastens Raoul’s ankles, too.
I slide off the sheets and come around to the end of the bed so I can see Raoul’s face. He’s not trapped in a small space, but he can’t escape, and I’m concerned about him having another panic attack. But he seems all right—slightly nervous but mostly excited.
The Angel steps back, surveying his work. Then he goes to a drawer and extracts a small vibrator. It looks exactly like one of my favorites—the one I used the other night, when I suspected a naughty phantom might be watching me.
Raoul trembles when the tiny vibrator begins to buzz, and the Angel’s mouth curves with a pleased smirk. He slides one hand along Raoul’s dick, lifting it and setting the tip of the little vibrator to the underside. Raoul squirms and gasps, “Oh god, oh god,” as the Angel strokes him with the device. After a few seconds of stimulation, theAngel backs off, and Raoul whimpers, his dick bobbing helplessly in midair.
The Angel sets the device aside and steps in, letting his own cock bump against the poet’s. He runs both hands over Raoul’s chest, pinching the nipples lightly, then sealing his mouth to Raoul’s for a long kiss.
Reassured that Raoul is enjoying the experience, I arrange some pillows for myself and sit on the floor, watching them.
The Angel is merciless. He teases Raoul for a full hour, bringing him to the quivering edge of orgasm again and again, only to remove all stimulation and leave him straining for release. Raoul groans and pleads, but to my surprise, he doesn’t speak the safe phrase. He knows how exquisite the relief will be when it finally comes.
I have to admit, he’s beautiful like this. His skin gleams with sweat, and every abdominal muscle is taut with desperate need.
The Angel is still hard, too, still suffering, and I’m dripping with desire for them both. When the Angel moves in close to Raoul and wraps both their cocks in the tunnel of his large hand, I tuck my fingers between my legs, toying with my clit. My efforts produce a fresh surge of wetness, and both Raoul and the Angel look my way, nostrils flaring. Like they can smell it.
Oh god.
Raoul’s eyes are lust-dazed, bleary, frantic with desire. But the Angel’s gaze shocks me—it’s the violent hunger of a predator who is beyond his own control.
He lunges at me, and I gasp in thrilled fervor, not terror. When he seizes my body and flips me facedown on the floor, among the scattered pillows, I don’t tell him to stop.
It’s like this with me and the Angel—a visceral, animal passion neither of us can resist. And I crave it more deeply than I can express.
I’m on my belly with him behind me, and he drags me closer, pulls my ass up so he can fit himself inside.
Then he begins to move. Not just move—hepoundsinto me so fast and hard that my whole body jerks with each thrust. It’s the frenzied rut of a monster, a beast unleashed. My breath comes in little frantic bursts. My mind is being jarred loose, my thoughts melted and merged into one endless rhythm.
I’m being brutally fucked from behind by the masked god who stalked me, and I’ve never felt more alive.
Raoul moans, shrill and broken. “Oh god…I’m going to come…”
“Don’t you dare,” snarls the Angel, still fucking me so violently I can’t do anything but make a faint, jagged, moaning sound.
He hitches me higher on his cock, and I gasp as the altered angle stimulates some delicate place deep inside me. I don’t usually come just from penetration, but I’m about to, right now… I can feel the pleasure expanding, wider and wider, then tightening in a bright burst, a sparkling cataclysm through my whole body. The bliss bathes every nerve, every limb, my whole self. I have never experienced such supreme relief.
I’m sobbing, my pussy squeezing around his cock, and then I feel him come, too, a throbbing heat between my legs. The Angel groans, hauling my ass tighter against his hips and stomach, bottoming out inside me.
He urges every last drop from his body into mine, then drags his thick length out of my center. I collapse, panting, onto one of the pillows. Weak from ecstasy, I still manage to turn my face toward poor Raoul, who somehow managed to hold himself in check while the Angel finished with me.
