Stray (18 page)

It was a lot harder than he’d made it sound. It took all of my concentration to stay still. Not to speak. Not to moan.
He’s keeping you out of subspace.
Just as Dylan had done in the past, Eric had found a way to keep me grounded in the same room as him. Only now, instead of asking me twenty questions, my Master was forcing me to focus on something else besides the pain in my breasts or the warmth around my clit.

Eric touched his finger to me again. Testing the waters. I bit my lip so hard I half expected to break the skin. My knees threatened to buckle, but I didn’t fall. He withdrew his hand, carefully guiding his cock to my pussy lips.

I drew in a deep breath, widening my stance when he asked me to. Unable to move, I waited, my anticipation getting the better of me. Heat pricked all over my body, and just as I was about to take another breath, Eric thrust deep inside. I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding against one another. Blinking through my surprise, I couldn’t tell if I was tight, or if Eric was a little larger than Dylan.

Not that either one made a difference. Every time he thrust, Eric hit my far wall, pounding into my cervix. Pleasure soon turned over to pain, but before I could use a safe word, Eric pulled out.

“Tight little thing, aren’t you?” Eric leaned over to grab something else from the table. There was the click of a bottle before he squeezed something into his hands. He closed the lid and set the bottle back down again. “No matter. There are other ways to make you come.”

I waited to feel his fingers on my clit, or inside me. Something cold pressed against my ass, and a cool wave of panic overwhelmed me.

“Yellow,” I squeaked, thankful when Eric pulled away.

Dylan came back over to us. “You okay?”

Eric released me, turning me around so he could undo the clamps. I whimpered from the new wave of pain, stronger than the last.

“Wrong hole,” I breathed, rubbing at my breasts.

Eric scoffed. “Don’t you worry, babe. I have everything under control.”

I gave Dylan the same look I’d used before.

He brushed my cheek. “If you want him to stop, just say so.”

“I…” Did I want him to stop? Dylan and I hadn’t done anal. We hadn’t even thought of it. Discussed it? Maybe after our night with Marnie, but I’d never really considered it. “I don’t know.”

“We’ll take it slow then,” Eric said, turning me back towards the wall. “Same rules as before.”

I closed my eyes. He reached over to replace the lube he’d wiped away before removing the clamps. Opened the bottle. Put some in his hand. Pressed a single digit against my ass. I held my breath.

“Alyssa, I need you to relax. This is going to sound really strange, but can you use the same muscles you use when going to the bathroom?”

He wanted me to what? Fart? My cheeks must’ve been bright red, because both Dylan and Eric laughed.

“When I push,” Eric explained, “I need you to act like you’re trying to push me out. Just until I get inside. Then you can stop. You might feel like you need to use the bathroom. This is normal. Ignore it, and it’ll pass.”

I watched Dylan. Inhaled when he told me to, exhaled moments later. Dylan was my focal point, coaching me while Eric got into place.

His finger pressed against me. “Do it now, Alyssa.”

I pushed, just like he’d told me to. There was a slight pinch when his finger slipped inside. I closed my eyes again, concentrating on the strange sensation. It wasn’t anything like I was used to. There was an odd sense of warmth. Pressure. Pleasure I’d never felt before.

I let my head fall back to rest on Eric’s chest. He kissed the side of my neck, withdrawing his finger.

“Think you’re ready for two fingers?” he asked, applying more lube to me as well as his hand.

I nodded.

“Good girl. Like before. Push back at me when you feel the pressure.”

Two fingers circled the outside of my anus. I moaned, already anticipating the pleasure his fingers were about to bring. He pressed down and, as before, I relaxed my muscles, whimpering when his fingers slipped inside. There was more pinching this time while my body adjusted to his fingers.

He turned them from one side to the other, forcing an array of sounds from my lips, none of them spoken in the English language.

“Do you want me to stop?” Eric asked, his breath warm against my neck.

Now that I’d felt it, there was no way I was going to use a safe word. “No, Master.”

“If I asked you to, would you be willing to take some more?”

If it feels as good as this…
“Yes, Master.”

Eric withdrew his fingers and stepped away from me. Without saying another word, he turned me around, helping me to the centre of the room. Once we were there, he played with a pair of cuffs that were hanging from the ceiling—something I hadn’t even noticed until now. He lifted one of my arms, then wrapped a cuff around my wrist, checking my fingers for circulation before moving on to the other one.

“Now, you might be wondering why I’m cuffing you to the middle of the room,” Eric began, turning me so I was facing Dylan’s chair. “Well, my pet, let me tell you. You see that man over there?”

I stared at Dylan, who had a grin splayed across his face.

“He’s going to help,” Eric continued, gesturing for Dylan to join us.

Eric went for the lube again, playing with his cock until it was good and hard. After replacing his last condom with a new one, he went to stand behind me while Dylan knelt at my feet.

“You ready?” Eric asked, making sure my feet could touch the ground. I bobbed my head. “Good girl. We’ll start with two fingers and work from there.”

Dylan wrapped his arms around the backs of my legs to hold me steady while Eric wrapped one around my waist. There was pressure again, only this time Eric’s fingers slipped inside with little to no pain. I instinctively thrust back at him, moaning when he scissored his fingers, stretching the tissue even more.

Eric pulled out his fingers, looking around me at Dylan. “We need a blindfold.”

Dylan got up and headed to one of the nearby tables, rummaging through the drawers before returning with the requested item. I remembered the last time he’d blindfolded me. This couldn’t possibly end in a bad way. I trusted him as much as I’d ever trusted anyone else, and since he trusted Eric, that meant I could trust him as well.

Although still confused as to why I had to be blind, I didn’t complain. So long as Eric kept doing whatever it was he’d been doing with his fingers, they could do whatever the hell they wanted to me. Dylan smiled at me. Raised the blindfold over my head. Covered my eyes. The rest of the world went dark.

“Can you see anything?” Dylan asked,
wrapping
his arms back around my legs.

“No, Master.”

“Excellent. Remember to use your safe words if you have to.”

I nodded, leaning forward as best I could when Eric slipped his fingers back inside. He opened and closed his fingers once. Twice. Three times. The pressure was gone. I heard the bottle of lube open again. It closed. Eric moaned, pressing the head of his cock to me.

I whimpered. Tried to lean forward. To push back against him. Dylan held me in place. I grasped at the chains that were attached to my cuffs. Eric pressed a little harder, the head of his cock slowly slipping inside me. The pinching from earlier returned, but after a brief moment, it passed. He thrust again, groaning as I took him bit by bit.

God, how badly I wanted him. I needed him. Wanted Dylan, Eric…either one of them to fuck me. Eric hissed as he pushed inside, then didn’t move for a long moment. It was obvious he’d done this many times before, since he knew just how long to wait until my body adjusted to his size.

He used long, slow strokes, holding my hips. “God, baby, that’s the way I like it.”

I screwed my eyes up tightly even though the blindfold was still there. I wanted him to go faster. To pound into me, to—

“Oh, my God…” My breath caught when Dylan licked my clit.

Dylan made fluid circles around it, going just as slowly as Eric’s thrusts. While one of them fucked me from behind, the other fucked me with his mouth. To say I was blown away was a complete understatement. And without the pain from the clamps to hold me back, I fell into subspace.

There was no pain. Just pleasure. So much fucking pleasure. I moaned, whimpering when Dylan’s tongue slipped inside me. Flicked against my clit. Licked my pussy lips. Eric’s thrusts increased, his breath coming out in fast, short pants. I was as far into orbit as I could possibly go. I struggled for breath, the first tremors of orgasm so strong that they shook my entire body. And it was building faster than I could have prepared myself for.

Dylan lifted his lips away from my pussy for just long enough to say, “Not yet, Alyssa. You will not come unless Eric tells you to. Clear?”

“Yes…” I choked on my words, almost sobbing as I tried to hold back. “Yes, Master.”

Eric rammed into me, harder now. Dylan tightened the circles his tongue made around my clit, returning me to subspace in no time. Every single one of the muscles in my body bunched together. Tensed. Threatened to buckle.

“Almost there, baby,” Eric groaned, his hands gripping at my hips. “Almost.”

He pumped into me. I lost track of time.
He’s not going to let me come.
I bit back the tears, shocked when a dry sob escaped my lips.

“Please,” I begged. A tear slid down my cheek. “Please, Masters, let me come.”

Eric bit the back of my neck before letting go. “Come for us, baby. Come now!”

My world came crashing down in a flurry of stars. I stopped breathing. I didn’t exist. Every part of me liquefied, forming a puddle of bliss on the ground. By the time I came back down to earth, Eric was holding me in his lap. The cuffs had been removed, and both of my Masters were sitting with me on the couch.

“So,” Dylan began, brushing a hand against my brow, which was slick with sweat. “What did you think?”

I eyed Eric, who was just as spent as I was. “Can we do that again?”

Dylan smiled and leaned in to kiss me on the lips. “So long as I get to have a turn.”

Chapter Eighteen

The ride home took longer than I’d expected. Not because of traffic, but because I didn’t have Marnie to talk to or to share gossip with. There was so much I wanted to talk to her about, starting with Eric.

I knew better than to expect her before morning, but I hoped her evening had gone as well as mine had. I leaned my head back and sighed, fighting to keep my eyes open as Dylan drove us home.

“So, did you have a good night?” Dylan asked, glancing over at me.

I yawned. “Mmm-hmm.”

“Meet any Doms you like?” Doms as in one, unless he included himself.

Only you.
“A few.”

“Good. Good. So, do you like being shared?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Who you’re planning to share me with.”

“You liked Eric that much, huh?”

“Only a little.” I tried to smile through the haze of exhaustion.

Dylan bobbed his head. “There are two other Doms I’d like you to meet, but we’ll worry about that after we work a little more on your training.”

I glanced at him as he watched the road, headlights accenting his tightened jaw and narrowed eyes perfectly. “What training?”

He reached over and squeezed my leg. “As a wolf. Not just shifting or sitting in a crate either. I want to take you to one of our local kennels.”

Panic filled me. It was one thing to shift for him every now and again, and another to do it in front of other Doms. Other wolves. I’d figured just shifting and spending some time in my other skin would’ve been enough. Not for Dylan. Knowing him, he’d probably want me to fight, too. If only to prove to myself—to both of us—that not all Doms are the way Anthony was. Dylan had promised to help me take my life back, and that included reclaiming whatever pride I’d originally had in that ring.

“It’s okay,” Dylan said when I didn’t reply. “It’s just so you can watch. I want to show you that not all Masters treat their wolves the way Anthony treated you.” He shrugged. “I’m so proud of how well you’ve done. And I promise, this is the last thing I’ll ask you to do.”

“And then what?” Did that mean I was done being his sub? I wasn’t ready to get passed off to another Dom. I didn’t want him to give me away at all.

“Who knows?”

I stared down at my lap, fighting against the tightness in my chest. “So, when do we leave?”

“Tonight.”

* * * *

When Dylan had said we were heading to a local kennel, I’d figured he’d meant something that was maybe half an hour away. This would have made complete sense, considering how tired we both were. Sadly, it wasn’t. In fact, it took us over two hours to reach our hotel, and that was without traffic, going seventy-five on the interstate.

Local kennel, my ass.
I wasn’t sure if we were even in the same state anymore. I must’ve dozed off a handful of times, and I jumped awake when Dylan shut his door behind him.

We stopped at the reception desk first before trudging to our room. The gentleman who’d signed us in must’ve thought we were honeymooners, since he tossed Dylan a stupid grin as we headed for the elevators. Hell, I doubted we would be able to have sex at all—not even a quickie. I was lucky my legs still worked.

The elevator took forever, of course, and I still had to take a warm bath as part of my aftercare. Given the night I’d had between Dylan and Eric, I needed it. Especially from the crap Dylan had pulled to get me here. I wasn’t fucking ready for this!

My mind was spinning by the time I reached the bathroom, and whatever was left in my stomach ended up in the toilet.
How dare he?
What gave him the right to spring something like this on me without telling me about it first?
He’s your Dom. He doesn’t have to tell you a damned thing.
Even so, I really wished he had. At least then I could’ve taken something for my nerves, or drunk so much that I’d sleep through most of it.

But now, with the early hours of morning fast approaching, I probably wouldn’t sleep at all. It was almost like waiting up for Santa as a kid, only now, my insomnia was anything but pleasant. And when Dylan handed me my night clothes, which he’d mysteriously had in the car, I didn’t thank him.