“Breathe,” he instructed. “You're safe here. I won't damage what I want to use.”
The massage continued. Down my ribs, across my abdomen, his fingers digging into the muscle with enough pressure to make me exhale hard. He avoided my cock deliberately, building anticipation or testing my patience. Both, probably.
Then his mouth joined his hands. Lips against my chest, tongue circling my nipple before teeth scraped across the sensitive skin. I jerked involuntarily. The ropes held. He bit down harder, enough to send sharp sensation racing down myspine, enough to make my cock twitch where it lay hard and ignored against my stomach.
“Responsive,” Harrow murmured against my skin. “I like that.”
He moved to my other nipple, gave it the same treatment. Licking, sucking, biting until the flesh was swollen and hypersensitive. His hand finally wrapped around my cock, stroking with maddening slowness while his mouth worked my chest.
I bit back a sound. Refused to give him the satisfaction. This was a game. I needed to play it well enough to earn his trust without losing myself to what was happening.
Harrow's mouth travelled lower. Kissed down my sternum, across my ribs, his tongue tracing the definition of my abs with deliberate attention. He paused at my hip, bit down hard enough to leave marks, then moved to my inner thigh and did the same.
“Damian, Lori,” he called. “Come here. Help me worship our guest properly.”
The bed shifted as they joined us. Multiple hands on my body now, touching everywhere. Someone's mouth on my neck, someone else's on my thigh, fingers trailing across my chest, my arms, my sides. I lost track of who touched where, overwhelmed by sensation that came from every direction.
Then Harrow's mouth closed around my cock. Wet heat engulfed me, his tongue working the underside while he took me deep with practised ease. No hesitation, no gagging, just smooth suction that made my hips try to buck despite the restraints holding me immobile.
Someone else's mouth found my nipple again. Licking, biting, while hands massaged oil into my thighs, my calves, my feet. I was drowning in touch, my mind struggling to stay detached while my body responded with increasing urgency.
Harrow released my cock with an obscene sound. “Lift his arm,” he commanded.
Hands obeyed, raising my left arm higher, exposing my armpit. Then I felt Harrow's breath there, hot against sensitive skin, followed by his tongue. He licked the hollow slowly, thoroughly, tasting salt and the musk of my body with apparent appreciation.
“Fucking delicious,” he muttered. His tongue worked deeper, exploring every crevice while his hand continued stroking my cock with devastating rhythm. “I could do this all night.”
The sensation was overwhelming. My armpit had never been particularly sensitive before, but Harrow's mouth there sent electric shocks through my nervous system, made my cock leak steadily, made breathing difficult. He switched to my other arm, gave it the same thorough attention, his tongue mapping skin while someone else's mouth worked my inner thigh, getting closer to my balls but not quite touching.
Then Harrow's lips found mine. The kiss was brutal, demanding, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth with the same confidence he'd shown binding me to his bed. I tasted myself on his tongue, tasted the scotch he'd been drinking earlier, tasted power and control and the particular flavour of a man who took what he wanted without apology.
I kissed back. Couldn't help it. My body responded to the stimulus, to the hands still touching me everywhere, to the mouth that had just worshipped places no one had ever paid attention to before. The kiss deepened. Harrow's teeth caught my lower lip, bit down until I tasted copper, then his tongue soothed the sting.
“Perfect,” he breathed against my mouth. “Absolutely fucking perfect.” He kissed me again, harder this time, one hand tangled in my hair while the other wrapped around both our cocks, stroking them together. I felt his length hot and thickagainst mine, felt the slickness of oil and precome making the friction devastating.
He broke the kiss. “I'm going to untie you,” he said, voice rough. “And then you're going to fuck them both while I watch. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Good boy.” His hands worked the knots at my wrists. Circulation returned with pins and needles that made my fingers flex involuntarily. The ankle restraints followed. “Sit up. Slowly. Let your blood resettle.”
I obeyed, still blindfolded, still disoriented. Harrow's hand gripped my shoulder, steadying me. “How do you feel?”
“Fine.”
“Liar. But I appreciate the effort.” His thumb stroked my jaw. “Lori first. Make her come on your cock. Then Damian. Then we'll see what else you can handle.”
He guided me by the shoulders, positioning me where he wanted. I felt Lori's hands on my chest, her body pressing against mine. She was shorter than me, her breasts soft against my sternum, her breath quick with anticipation.
“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Hard. I want to feel it tomorrow.”
I gripped her hips, lifted her like she weighed nothing. She wrapped her legs around my waist, already slick when I positioned my cock at her entrance. Then I lowered her down, filled her in one brutal thrust that made her cry out and dig her nails into my shoulders.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Like that. Don't stop.”
I didn't. Fucked her standing up, using my strength to lift and drop her onto my cock with punishing rhythm. She was tight and wet, her inner walls gripping me with every thrust, her moans getting louder as I drove deeper.
“Against the wall,” Harrow commanded. “Pin her there.”
