Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (123 page)

~Chapter One-Hundred-Ten~

“What happened? Why aren’t you at church?” I ask a melancholy Grant.

He just shakes his head and goes back to his room through an adjoining doorway. Grant is only wearing a pair of navy pajama bottoms. He pads across the carpet with bare feet and crawls up on his bed. He rests his back against the headboard and sightlessly stares out into nothingness.

“Grant?” Wil says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

I slip back into Marcus and Regina’s bedroom and make sure everything is orderly before I go to Grant. I shut the adjoining door and lean on it. Grant looks ill he’s so upset. His blue eyes are red-rimmed from crying. His mien is broken. I try to track the movements of his hands as he converses with Wil. While he can speak a word here or there, he never does. He says it’s his punishment for trying to kill himself. If he would practice his speech, one day he could carry on short burst of conversation.  But right now, he’s good for four words at a time, and then he loses his voice.

I just want to go home.

“To the Brownstone,” Wil asks.

Yes, this isn’t my home. I don’t belong here. I never have.

“So move, problem solved. Go home and relax and be yourself. Roman would love to have you back.” Wil is so much better at comforting words than I am. I would have told Grant to buck up and make a decision already. I’m like a ballpeen hammer to the face.

They are acting as a family tonight. I loved seeing them happy
together- it made all of this worth it. Regina and Whitt are having a difficult time, but both have moved on with their lives. But I haven’t… I’m trying, but being around them hurts. It makes me realize all I have lost, and then I feel guilty, because if I hadn’t lost it, then I wouldn’t have what I have now. I love my kids, and I’m thankful I have them. They are grownups now, and don’t need me. Whitt has found his happily ever after. Niel is a man with a baby on the way. And Ella is a good young woman. They don’t need me anymore. I’ve lived my life… and without them, I have nothing.

“That’s not true,” Wil softly murmurs. He comfortingly pats Grant on the thigh
.

When your children grow up and make lives of their own, you two will have each other- you’ll still have a life you built: family, friends, careers,
and a home. I have nothing now. I can go back to the Brownstone and write my life away, but that is all… and I want more.

“Have you talked to her?” Wil asks, and I want to ask
who?

She turned me down again… I spoke to her before Whitt’s Christmas Party… a
nd then they wanted to go to Mass, and I just couldn’t do it.

“Why not?” I ask, walking closer, curiosity getting the better of me. “I thought your faith was strong.” I sit on the edge of the bed next to Wil.

It is… I haven’t been able to go back there since… I’m a coward. I didn’t save my grandfather. I just watched Uncle Jack beat him. When I go to church, it’s all I see. Tonight is the thirtieth anniversary of Wilhelm Whittenhower’s death. It was the last night of my innocence.

“Oh, Grant,” I cry out as I scuttle across the mattress to pull Grant into an embrace. I need to comfort him.
He buries his face into the side of my neck, tears dampening my shirt. I fold my arms around him and rock him a bit while murmuring soothing words that are meaningless.

I shriek when Grant alligator roll
s us over until I’m on my side, with me pinned between Wil’s knee and the length of Grant’s body. Determined lips descend on mine, proving that Grant doesn’t have to speak to communicate with his mouth. I lay in shock as Grant passionately kisses me in front of my husband. His tongue probes between my lips, encouraging me on to join the kiss.

“Shh…” Wil murmurs near my ear. “Just relax and feel it.” I freeze up even more, if that’s at all possible.
As if reading my thoughts, Wil says, “No, we didn’t plan this out, Pixy. Just go with it. If you don’t like it, just say stop… and we will stop.”

I lay in a daze as Grant silentl
y feeds at my mouth while Wil smoothes my hair back off of my face. I slowly relax, but the confusion is strong. Grant is my friend. His scent and the press of his body are familiar and comforting. I can feel Grant’s pain and I want to make him feel better, but I don’t know if I can do what his body is asking of me.

It’s just a kiss, I can handle that. But my libido and my mind aren’t communicating. I’ve always been attracted to Grant. I love the way he makes me feel wanted, even when he
’s picking on me. My mouth opens without thought, and my tongue slips between Grant’s parted lips. I groan when our tongue mingle and caress against one another- so firm and silkily smooth and hot and wet. Grant’s hands run down my back to cup my ass. He presses our hips together, grinding his insistent erection in between my thighs. He uses his body to voice his intentions, rather than with his words.

“Her breasts are sensitive,” Wil softly murmurs as his hands sneak inside my shirt and cup my breasts. “She likes it if you’re gentle,” he croons,
while slowly rubbing his palms on my nipples.

I gasp when Wil ya
nks my shirt up, exposing my chest. A second later, he unsnaps the front-closure of my bra. Air kisses my heavy breasts, but they are quickly covered by a callus-free, small hand. Wil takes Grant’s hand in his own and shows him how to touch me. Wil squeezes and caresses my breasts with the other man’s hand.

“She had to take her nipple rings out. Don’t pinch on them. Just swirl your palms around them like this,” Wil coaxes Grant. 

I moan and wiggle on the bed, unable to ignore how amazing Grant’s warm hand feels on my bared flesh. My nipples bud and abrade against the soft flesh of his palms.

My
eyes flick up to meet my husband’s. Wil’s eerie pale blue gaze is feverish with anticipation. He’s softly panting as if crazed with lust. Wil isn’t making suggestions; he’s taking control of the situation. The thought of telling Grant where to touch me is turning Wil on like nothing else ever has. Wil finally experiences the power surge I feel every time I hold a whip in my hand.

“Kiss her nipple… just like this,” Wil purrs. He leans down and runs the flat of his tongue over my nipple before he sucks my areola and part of my breast into his mouth. I grunt in shock as my body tightens and moisture pools between my thighs. I wiggle around on the mattress as Wil worships at my breast while Grant attentively watches. 

Wil pulls away from my breasts, leaving me whimpering in need. “Don’t use the tip of your tongue, it’s too much. And don’t suck on just her nipple. Your turn,” Wil orders in a voice thick with lust and power.

Like a scared rabbit, I watch Grant’s mouth descend. A hiss
is torn from between my clenched teeth when his tongue makes contact with my flesh. I whimper and moan, by mind already wondering what that scarred tongue would feel like on lower spots.

“Oh God,” I groan.
“The roughness is mind-bending.” My body erupts with a series of lightning flashes along my spine. It’s as if the tongue on my nipple has a direct line to my pussy. I lose all reservations about playing with Grant as he suckles at my tender breasts.

Knowing my resistance just evaporated, Grant gasps,
“Faith.” The word sounds ghastly from Grant’s hoarse voice.

My eyes slip shut as I luxuriate in the sensation of Grant feasting on my flesh. He mounds my breasts together in his soft palms. His mouth eagerly goes from one nipple to the next. Saliva thickly slides in the crevice of my cleavage and spreads across my belly. T
he sensation of hot flesh sliding against my back has me startle and gasp.

Wil divested his clothing
, and is now curled around my back. His naked body spoons me from behind as Grant kisses, sucks, and nibbles on my tits. Wil grinds his hard-on against my ass, circling his hips, trying to entice me.

“Holy fuck, you’re eager,” I hiss when Wil pulls my shirt over my head. His hands return for my unhook
ed bra. The elastic fabric gets caught on my elbow, causing me to giggle as we fight to disrobe me.

“You have no idea,” growls deep from his chest. “Just watching Grant suck on your tits is tightening my balls. If he touches your pussy, I’ll probably cum. I think we should find out.”

“We… should…” Grant forces out, but the harsh words belie the playful expression on his face. He wears a shit-eating grin on his face as he runs the back of his hand across his mouth, clearing away the saliva. Grant doesn’t do anything halfway. He went gangbusters on my tits, drooling all over the place. It sounds gross. But it just makes my pussy clench, craving to know how wet he’ll make me down there.

Wil’s fingers hook in the waist band of my yoga pants. Even a badass Sadist can’t wear leather when she’s pregnant. I’m barely showing. I’m only up one pant size, but I’d rather be comfortable than fashionable.

“I think we should lose these.” It’s a demand, not a request. Wil doesn’t wait for my answer before he slides the fabric from my hips. “Kiss her,” Wil orders Grant.

Lips are on mine before I can catch a breath. I groan into Grant’s mouth as Wil yanks the back of my hair, opening me for Grant’s
kissing assault. Neither of us disobeys. Wil takes over and we allow it. He tells Grant what to do with verbal orders, and he tells me what to do with his actions.

“Suck his tongue like it’s a cock, Pixy,” Wil growls into my ear. His hand is still fisted in the back of my hair. It’s either obey or be in pain. His grip tightens when I don’t do as he said. My lips fuse to Grant’s. I suck at his mouth, trying to get him to give me his tongue.

Grant laughs deep in his chest, a nightmare of a sound that has all my hair standing on end. He denies me. He makes me work for it. He punishes me for avoiding a decade’s worth of his sexual advances.

“Stick your tongue out, Grant,” Wil orders in a husky deep voice. “I want to watch her suck it. I want you to have a preview of how good her tiny mouth will feel wrapped around your shaft. Suck it,” he groans, “suck it hard.”

“Ah,” I grunt when Wil fists my hair tighter, shaking my head. Grant offers me his tongue and I accept. I lick at the tip, tasting him. Slowly, so that Wil can watch, I suck Grant’s tongue into my mouth. I moan as his scar-roughened tongue is sucked between my lips. I bob on it as I do a dick.

“Mmm… that’s nice,” Wil purrs. “One thing about Pixy is that she is too impatient for foreplay. We could make her wait. But we don’t want to piss her off, now do we? We want to make sure we get seconds and thirds. Don’t we, Grant?”

“Yesssss,” Grant hisses out, looking pained.

“Good. In a few times we will make her wait,” Wil says, sounding highly amused… and very, very sure that there will be a next time. “Take two fingertips and rub on her pussy. Make her ready to take my cock. Do it,” he orders Grant
while hitching my leg up and hooking it around the crook of his arm. Wil spreads my legs far and wide. In order to hold my leg up with his arm, he wraps his fingers around the front of my neck, anchoring his position.

“Ugh,” I grunt, expecting Grant to go slowly like he has been. Two slim fingers impale my flesh. He hooks his fingers and starts fucking me as if afraid I’ll tell him to stop. Looking down the length of my body and seeing a hand thrusting fingers inside of me, and knowing they aren’t my husband’s, does strange things to my body. My back arches, pushing my hips closer to his pumping hand. I whimper in need as I grind on him.

“Now who’s eager,” Wil chuckles in my ear. “Are you wet for Grant? Is Grant making you hot? Watching is making me hot,” he growls, the sound reverberating down my spine.

“Is that rhetorical?” I ask about his questioning, and receive two sarcastic snorts in answer.

“One would assume so, since your juices are dripping down Grant’s arm. You’re a wet little pixy, aren’t you? I love that you’re always ready to take my cock.” Wil shifts his hips, nudging me in the ass with his erection.

Fingertips pinch and roll around my clit, ripping a scream of intense pleasure from my throat. My body shakes in Wil’s arms as Grant brings me to the brink of release.

“Grab my dick and slide it in her,” Wil orders. “My hands are very busy.” One is wrapped around my hair, controlling movement of my head, and the other is palming my neck. I’m going nowhere, unless Wil wants me to move.

Grant gives us a spooked horse look- the white of his eyes glowing in his dim bedroom. “That’s right, you’re touching my dick,” Wil growls. “Grant’s not homophobic, but all he loves is pussy. Do you have any idea how powerful I feel knowing that if I told him to suck me off, he would? That’s how badly he wants you, Pixy. He’d do just about anything if that meant he could
finally fuck you,” Wil sounds high with power.

“Holy fuck, do you want him to suck you off?” I mutter in disbelief.

“No.” Wil’s laugh trails down my spine. “But I love having the option to order him to do it. He wants what’s mine, and it’s up to me to share it.”

“Is it now
…” I angrily murmur, but secretly I love that Wil feels possessive of me. I also trust him never to hurt me. What we’re doing is feeding the needs of all three of us. Wil feels in control, marking his territory. Grant is getting dominated, and even though it’s a guy controlling him, he gets sex with a girl. And I just want them both to be happy.