Abduction (74 page)

“Yes.” Jeremy’s voice was smaller than the word it carried. In that single syllable it wavered.

“Can you still taste her on your tongue?”

“Yes.”

“I adore the way Devan tastes. The way she smells.”

Then, Vaughn closed his eyes. Slow, tender, he kissed Jeremy, taking the boy’s full bottom lip between his lips, then releasing it. He opened his eyes to see what Jeremy’s said. There was nothing there but startled uncertainty. His deliberate 673

movement almost imperceptible, Vaughn kissed him again, this time pressing his own lower lip between Jeremy’s lips, drawing his top lip down, over the boy’s downy invisible mustache, fragrant with Devan’s perfume. This time when he looked at Jeremy, there was bewildered excitement in his eyes.

Vaughn parted Jeremy’s lips with another kiss, deep, warm, passionate. The boy groaned softly as he felt that fucking kiss of Vaughn’s. Devan looked on, breathless.

The curve of Vaughn’s strong jaw, darkened with the shadowy suggestion of his beard, was terribly sexy as it moved slightly with the opening and closing of his mouth as he kissed Jeremy, who had succumbed luxuriantly, on the verge of swooning like a Victorian ingénue he was so overwhelmed with the passionate attentions he was receiving. His prick was rock hard once more.

Vaughn ended their kiss and stepped back, and the three of them regarded Jeremy and his huge erection as he stood panting before them, dazed. Then Vaughn led him over to the sofa and sat him down in the middle of it, walked back to Devan and offered her a hand as she stood, regarding him with adoring pride. He had really surprised her. He then resumed his old seat by the fire, next to Gordon.

Quivering with the excitement aroused by the astonishing kiss she had just witnessed, Devan stood facing Jeremy, her back to Vaughn and Gordon. She sauntered a little way toward the couch, then stopped. Crossing her arms down in front of her and grasping the waist of her dress she pulled it up over her head, then dropped it beside her. She stood naked before Jeremy.

“Are you ready to lose your innocence, darling?” There was an ironic note in her voice.

He nodded his head, still looking a little frightened. She straddled him.

Her kiss, stirring, arousing, was so different from Vaughn’s that it hardly seemed possible that it was the same fundamental touch, mouth to mouth, lips on lips, tongue slipping over tongue. With Vaughn, Jeremy had felt that he was being physically entered, his mind had told him that he was being fucked, even though Vaughn did not touch him except with those fingers lightly curved at the back of his neck. But with Devan he felt that their two bodies had vaporized into billions of invisible particles, and that they were mingling, swirling around together until they were not two, but one. Her kiss made him feel loved.

As she kissed him she reached down and guided him to her, then took him inside of her. He gasped, then wrapped his arms around her waist holding her tight to him, not wanting her to move at all, so he could just feel the warmth of her surrounding him. After a moment he let her go, and she ended their kiss. Looking at him she began to move, languidly.

Vaughn and Gordon watched as Devan undulated before them, her bare back and pretty bottom, the shape of an inverted heart, lovely in the dim light of the fire, flexing rhythmically as she fucked. Watching Jeremy kiss Devan’s tits, Gordon was absolutely aching to have a go at that bottom writhing before him, but this was Jeremy’s moment, he did not wish to diminish or tarnish it in any way. He looked inquiringly at Vaughn, who turned and gave him a warm smile. In kissing Jeremy Vaughn knew he'd opened a door.

Jeremy was looking with innocent, first-time love, at Devan’s face, aching for her even as she fucked him. He held her waist, feeling the muscles flexing and softening as 675

she worked her hips up, down, swiveling around and around him. He caressed the firm roundness of her bottom, then ran his palms back up to her waist, drawing them over her belly and up, cupping her sweet, slightly swaying breasts, touching her nipples. She moaned when he lightly pinched them, and this excited him tremendously. He kissed her breasts, making her whimper with pleasure. She began grinding against him, working for her own climax before making him come.

The sight of Gordon and Vaughn looking on catalyzed the frenzy of ecstasy that was already driving Jeremy to the brink, despite Devan’s precautions. But she was moving deliberately slowly, not letting him come, rubbing her sensitive clit against him, feeling the delicious drag with every upward tilt of her pelvis and the release with every slowly sliding downward motion. Slow as the drip of cold honey, down, down, then up, that excruciating little tug, until she felt the pressure, the agonizing tension building beyond endurance. Her little moans began squeaking out of her, driving Jeremy mad as she began moving frenziedly, humping him. She was animal, her body moving to its own carnal will, throwing herself on his sword over and over, hitting her tender button on every landing until her climax erupted, rolling spasms rippling through her. Jeremy could not resist her sudden fast fucking and her ecstatic cries. He clutched her to him as his own orgasm hurtled through him.

He held her there, stayed inside her for a long time, loving the warmth of her, afraid to let her go. She let him hold her. Finally he eased his embrace, let her sit up, let a millimeter or two of space open between their bodies. She looked at him fondly, brushed a lock of hair, damp with sweat, from his flushed forehead, and planted a kiss there. Then she got up, slipped on her dress, and slipped away to the bathroom. When 676

she returned Jeremy had dressed, and the three men were sitting on the thick shag carpet, near a newly revived, blazing fire. She sat down next to Vaughn, who looked at her with that look of love on the verge of heartbreak that sometimes made her feel she held his life in her hands. They kissed a tender, affirming kiss.

“See you tonight,” she said between a smile and a sweet, soft kiss on his mouth.

“Can you be back by seven?” Vaughn asked.

“Seven?” She paused and thought. “Sure. What's up?”

“A surprise.”

It wasn't the words, but his smile as he said them, that made her tummy twinge and her cheeks warm.

“Seven, then,” she promised, and took off for class.

His mouth. His hands. His look, voice, warmth, scent. When they were kissing, whispering, touching like this, Vaughn was like a plane of existence. The world she inhabited. Her body, her thoughts, the air in her lungs, everything was different.

And tonight he was so intense, so aroused, he had her taut with anticipation almost from the first touch. By the time he'd let her undo his pants and she felt the ridge of him pressing eagerly through his shorts, she was writhing against him, practically whining, she needed him so badly.

And, even for him, he was being particularly tender. The way he was touching, whispering, looking. That was the other thing that had her taut. Anticipating. Almost anxious.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” he asked with a playfully arched eyebrow. But there was a dark note in his voice.

She nodded and smiled, nervous and eager, then tried to mask her disappointment as he did his pants back up and re-buckled his belt. After coaxing her to sit on the edge of the bed, he went to the bureau and returned with a small rectangular box. He placed the box in her hands and stood over her, waiting. When she lifted the glossy white cardboard lid and saw the contents of the box, her gut went tight. Then the pulsing in her cunt began thrumming, a heavy bass reverberating through her whole body.

Vaughn sank to his knees and, watching her face, took the box from her. While he fastened the leather cuffs around her wrists her heart hammered more and more fiercely. With the little silver latch mechanism he hooked her wrists together in her lap then, letting her feel her bondage, he held her hands down as he brought his mouth to hers , slid his tongue between her lips, against her tongue.

His mouth on hers, fear swallowed her down. She tried to fight raw, eviscerating emotion with thought. She didn't fear Vaughn. She trusted him. If he wouldn't hurt her, being bound wasn't scary. But she was drowning in it, her baseless, irrational fear.

His mouth stilled, then left her, and now his eyes were fixed on hers, boring in.

His penetrating look, knowing he was trying to read her, reminded her. She had the word. She could say it, and—she knew—he would stop. He'd undo the little silver latch, undo the little silver buckles, and she'd be free.

She took stock. The rush of adrenaline. Heart pounding so fast, so hard, there was almost a pain. And her sex. Pulsing, throbbing excruciatingly. Deliciously. Her word stayed, still and quiet, in her mouth.

Vaughn's slight, tremulous shaking had her thinking, at first, he was as scared as she was. But watching his face, she saw. He wasn't afraid. Just struggling. Holding himself in check. He was that aroused. The aching pulse in her sex swelled bigger.

Swift and smooth, somehow she was lying back on the mattress, now, and Vaughn had her arms stretched taut overhead. Then the little sound of metal snicking down on metal, and her wrists were locked in place by the headboard. She'd thought he'd smile or say something sweet to reassure her. But he let her watch him, quivering and panting as he unbuttoned her dress, all arousal. No hesitation.

Her wrists bound, her legs pinned beneath him, she shuddered as he licked the flesh he bared as he pulled open her dress, tugged her bra out of the way. The wet warm rough softness of his tongue , the cool sharp rake of his teeth—every lick and nip amplified by her helplessness—had her squirming and panting and almost squealing.

A high-low chime. The doorbell. She started to laugh at the thought of some canvaser or Jehova's Witness standing on the porch while Vaughn had her...But this wasn't her little studio on Capitol Hill. Random people didn't just ring the bell, here.

Whoever was ringing had the gate code.

“Our guest has arrived,” Vaughn sighed with a wistful smile, and tipped his forehead to hers.

Her body felt cold. Weak.

Vaughn was still flushed. Glowing, sort of. But he'd gone serious. Intent.

“You remember your word.”

Someone was here. This was part of it. His idea about tonight. His surprise. She nodded. Her word. She remembered. Someone was here and she had to know her word because she was strapped down and there was this person.

“He knows your word. Understand?”

And he'd do things and she'd have to say her word if she didn't want him to do that and she nodded that she understood.

“This man's my friend, Dev. Someone I know very, very well. Someone I trust.

But you can get me, any time.”

He put something cool—a little metal cylinder—into her hand.

“If you need me, push down the button on top. I'll hear it, wherever I am in the house. And I'll be here in ten seconds.”

He kissed her, and the tenderness of his kiss made her more scared because now he seemed a little afraid. Then he stood up and moved toward the door.

“Vaughn, please don't...”

He stopped. Dead still. Looking at her.

“What, Dev?” he whispered when she didn't finish.

“Don't...you won't forget your promise?”

Probably he could hear, see that she was trying not to cry, but she couldn't help it. He gave her his tenderest smile. Came back to her. Stroked her hair. Kissed her lips softly.

“Dev. Nothing that happens tonight will change how I feel about you.” 680

Then he rose and moved away and the light flicked off and she heard the door click shut. Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear the thrum of blood in her ears. Her nerves were cranked up. Everything—the gentle squeezing pulling of the restraints on her wrists, the extended muscles of her arms, the weight of her own body pressed to the mattress, the cool air of the room on her bare belly and breasts, the sound of Vaughn walking down the hall and across the living room, the opening of the front door, then voices—was amplified.

Possible futures flashed by. The door opening. The light flicking on. A strange man. A strange face. His eyes stroking over her face, her tits, exposed in the open V of the dress Vaughn had unbuttoned to her waist. Or maybe the room would stay dark. A strange, disembodied voice. Her gut contracted. Then hands. Lips. On her bare flesh.

Hands pulling at her clothing, touching her body. The weight of a man on her, his hands and legs spreading her, his hardness pressed against her soft skin, then pushing into her, his breathing and grunting as he fucked her. Came inside her. She shuddered.

Straining her senses, she watched the strip of light under the door and listened to the indistinct parry of voices beyond. Now and then she could pick out the timbre of Vaughn's low laugh, his soft words. Every time she heard footfalls coming near the hallway her body stiffened and her breath sped. Under the pillow her thumb practiced pressing the plunger atop the metal cylinder.

The slow, deliberate thud of shoes. A shadow broke the line of light under the door. Then the light went black, altogether. Whoever he was, he'd switched off the hall light. She froze, staring, listening as the door knob rattled faintly, then the latch clicked 681

back, and a faint breeze moved over her. Not even a silhouette. And now all she could hear was her own frantic breathing.

The first touch startled, even though it was soft. A brush of fingertips over the top of her thigh. Not a caress. Just locating her on the bed in the dark. The fingertips followed a path, dragging up the hem of her dress, until the thin fabric of her panties came between her flesh and his. Then she let out a startled little grunt as fingers curved and rubbed her sex with unfamiliar firmness. Too rough. She squirmed a little away but the hand followed, massaging her mons and labia, driving her clit against her public bone in slow, determined circles. When the hand lifted and unbearable ache rushed into her sex and settled there, throbbing exquisitely.