Willing Sacrifice (Knights of the Board Room) (8 page)

The large man pivoted so his back was to her. As he began to unbuckle his belt, she savored the tightening of the denim over the superb buttocks before the jeans loosened and he pushed them off his hips. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so the jeans clung to the curves. He removed them with an inadvertently sinuous effort that made her want to heat her palms against the firm flesh, score him with a sharp bite of her nails.

He’d removed his shoes, so once he got the pants to his ankles, he bent, all that muscle shifting and rippling as he pulled the legs free. His feet were far enough apart she saw the heavy weight of his testicles swinging free.

“Knuckles on the floor, head down. Eyes closed. Straighten your legs, but don’t lock your knees.”

He obeyed. Stepping up behind him, she ran her hand over his ass, and down, closing her fingers on his balls, her grip tight enough that he grunted. He more than filled her hand, suggesting the size of the erection in the front. She stroked him, letting the crop she held slide along the inside of his thigh, tease the back of his knee. When she reversed it in a deft one-handed move, she pushed against that bend in his leg with the handle, taking him down to one knee.

“Forehead to the floor, baby,” she murmured.

She sat down sidesaddle upon the arch of his back as he did that. It put him in a pose similar to Rodin’s Thinking Man. Laying the crop on her lap, she stroked his thick hair with one hand, running her gloved palm over his buttocks with the other. In this position, she could turn her head and look at Max easily, so she lifted her gaze in that direction.

The look on his face made her part her lips. His gray eyes were the color of an impending storm. She wondered if he’d even looked at the other man. Everything in his expression said he was noting every infinitesimal detail of her reaction to mastering the male sub. The concentration evident in her glittering eyes, the tension of her facial muscles. Beneath her black lace bra, her breasts were full and aching, the thong beneath her pencil skirt already wet. Delicious tingles of heat kissed her throat, her jaw line.

She wished Max was wearing jeans. They were unforgiving, such that a man had to reach into them, straighten himself when he became erect, or else he’d be bent at an impossible angle. Slacks like he was wearing now gave way before that pressure. His cock would be stretched up along his lower abdomen, below the hold of his belt. If he had been wearing jeans, would he have adjusted himself in front of her? From the riveting power of his gaze on hers, the sexual heat pumping from him, she thought he would. She had no idea what to call this, but it made her want to take Thor on the trip of his life.

Rising, she turned away from Max again. “Thor, make the proper adjustments to the bench and lie face down on it. Guide your cock into the spacer that’s one size short of comfortable and then grip the handholds.”

The bench was broken into a long and short piece, the long piece for the upper torso, the short piece for the pelvis, with adjustments for different body lengths and heights. It essentially supported the torso while a sub was on hands and knees. Thor made those adjustments now, and as he did, she noticed he was rigid, his cock slit already wet with semen. Good. He was enjoying what was happening in this room as well. No matter her attention to Max, Thor was her first priority while under her command. She believed in doing a job well. And thoroughly.

As he laid himself down, he guided his cock between the opening of the long and short piece. There was a rectangular stainless steel frame there with different hole sizes that slid along a track. He didn’t cheat his Mistress. He centered the hole that was a size too small for his already turgid cock, working it through carefully. When he made it all the way through, he was flat on his stomach on the bench, his knees and hands on the floor. His testicles were pressed against the lower piece of the bench, his cock captured and pointing toward the floor. From her view behind him, his testicles were an intriguing, vulnerable nest of flesh on the bench’s vinyl surface. He locked his large hands around the handles provided beneath the bench.

“As far as you are concerned, your wrists are manacled to that bench, your thighs tied down, a strap over your shoulders and forehead. You are glued to that bench. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, Mistress.”

She never tied them down, not in a way they couldn’t easily escape. Thor was far physically stronger than she was, but it was her will and his desires that held him helpless. She inhaled that aphrodisiac, the energy swirling between her and him. The power emanating from the man watching was a solid, pulsing wall at her back.

She’d hung her toy bag by the sink. Now she returned her crop to it and withdrew her paddle, a half-inch thick oak rectangle with three holes cut into it to add a sharp bite to the sting.

Setting it aside, she slipped the buttons of her fitted blouse, sliding it off with a roll of her shoulders. She sensed Max shifting, but she didn’t look at him now. She eased the side zipper of her skirt up, all the way past the curve of her hip, and then unhooked it. The fishnets she wore tonight shimmered with tiny sparkles. A garter of sleek vinyl held them up. While her black thong would reveal a toned ass, her upper thighs weren’t perfect. Middle age and a job where she sat on her ass in front of a computer made that unattainable. Men liked soft strong thighs, though, ones that could lock around their shoulders. She could hold a man to her pussy until he ate her out to her satisfaction. Those soft thighs could also lock around his hips as he pounded into her.

It had been quite awhile since she’d indulged that fantasy in reality. She was imagining it quite vividly right now, but not with Thor.

She pulled her strap-on from the bag. It was a glossy black rubber dildo, six inches in length and thick, curved to ensure good contact with the most responsive areas. She buckled it over the thong, adjusting the clit stimulator to its proper place. As she did that, she slid her fingers over her mound, teasing herself with her own touch. Thor’s left cheek was pressed to the bench, so he could see what she was doing. Though she maintained an indifferent tilt of her head, her body angled away from him, she watched him in her peripheral vision to catch the involuntary flex of his hips as his cock jerked, expelling another drop of fluid. She heard the needy sound in his throat.

Though she didn’t look toward Max at all, the sense of being near a dangerous animal on a breakable tether had increased exponentially. She reveled in the attention of the two men, picking up on the growing electricity arcing between all three of them.

Pulling out two condoms and a blindfold, she crossed the room to Thor, enjoying the weight of the dildo pressing against her clit as the phallus moved in a lifelike way with her stride. In the mirrors, she saw the female sway of her hips, a provocative contrast. Max was motionless, a dark potent blur outside her range of vision. When she reached Thor, she swung her leg over his buttocks again, rubbing herself against the seam between, the movement similar to the way she’d thrust into him. The phallus curved up over his back. He pressed down in reaction, a groan breaking from him.

Tearing open one of the condoms with her teeth, she lay down on his back so she could reach beneath him, wrap her fingers around his shaft. As she explored the shape and weight of him at her leisure, she made a sound of reproof that kept him still. When he was quivering like a restrained stallion, she stretched the condom on him. Then she did the same to the dildo, making sure the lubrication on the outside was adequate for what she desired. Taking off one glove, she reached behind her, traced the dimple between Thor’s buttocks and went lower to tease his rim, pushing into the puckered entrance to confirm he’d already oiled himself up. She drew a playful circle between his shoulder blades with that slick substance, then rose, putting her glove on again, working it up her arm, past the elbow. She loved the close fit, the supple feel of it.

She always loved the pacing of a session. She could take her time, run her hands up her arms, feel how the tight fabric molded them. She could enjoy her own body, knowing Thor was watching her, suffering, lusting. The greater his anticipation, the more explosive his reaction would be, the more violent his climax. He would give her everything for one touch.

When she rose, she was well aware of what she looked like, one hip cocked as she displayed herself in the strap-on, black thong, matching bra, garters and knee-high boots. She wore a delicate silver chain with an onyx pendant and matching earrings, her dark hair in the slick bun. The heavy blush along her cheekbones would increase their severity, the piercing intensity of her dark eyes. She’d chosen an almost black lipstick that had a hint of rose color. She imagined what it would be like to fuck Thor senseless and then, as his sides were still heaving with exertion, straddle Max’s lap, grip his face, and kiss him with a vampire’s hunger with her rose-black lips.

A nice visual. As much as she hoped she was tormenting him by not looking at him, she knew the effort not to look his way was only driving her own hunger higher. And Thor would reap the benefits of that.

Moving behind Thor, she put her hands on either buttock, one finger at a time, so he felt the press of each of the ten digits. “I’m in a bit of a butch mood,” she purred. “I want to fuck you hard and fast, like a man would. If you don’t please me, I’m going to give you a sound thrashing with my paddle, make you sore inside and out. Think you can handle it?” She trailed her fingers up his spine, leaning forward as she did so, such that the strap-on pressed between his buttocks. She gave him her full weight, savoring the flex and shift of his body beneath her as her breasts mashed against his back. She gripped his nape, holding his head to the bench, a reminder of the power she held over him.

“Anything, Mistress. I’m all yours. Fuck me hard. Please.” He corrected himself quickly enough, but her lips curved.

“You’ll pay for that one.”

He didn’t apologize. Instead, his body quivered under hers, a much more pleasing response. He was enough of a man that he would forget himself in a moment of lust and make demands, enough of a sub that he relished the idea of being punished for it.

She was lying full along his back, her legs draped on either side of his hips. Now at last, she turned her head to look at Max, tilting her chin down, since he was to her left and somewhat behind her. He still bore that same hard-to-fathom expression, but the gray irises remained iron and fire. Stretching her arms back, she cupped her buttocks, arched her back and sat up using only her stomach muscles. She rolled her body in a lithe wave, rubbing the dildo against Thor’s crack and making his fingers tighten on the handholds.

Max’s eyes followed her every movement like the flow of water over her skin. He hadn’t moved by so much as an inch since she’d taken off her shirt. His hand was still curved loosely over the second chair. She found that incredibly erotic. Had he been a sniper with the SEALs, such that he’d had to sit motionless, waiting on a target to materialize, while staying intensely alert the whole time? If so, she had a feeling she was seeing that skill in action now.

She slid back off Thor, standing between his spread thighs. Now she removed the other glove, loosening the fingers then capturing the middle one in her mouth to tug it all the way off. She slid the garment along the small of Thor’s back, dropped it there. Then she did the same with the other. Putting both hands on his fine ass, she fitted the head of the dildo to his rear entrance. That tight opening convulsed, anticipating her.

His profile said he was highly experienced with ass fucking, but given that this was her first time with him, she wouldn’t slam into him first thing, as she might with Harris, whose ass was much more familiar. She preferred hands-on verification. The delicate tissues of the ass could be torn as easily in a man built like a brickhouse as one made out of straw. She was a female wolf that preferred to keep either type of house intact. As she eased in, the sphincter muscles released immediately. She pushed in to the hilt, and let out a sigh of pleasure. Thor didn’t exaggerate his abilities, and she’d reward him for that. Pulling back out,
now
she let go, slamming back into him.

Thor let out a fervent curse, but she was just getting started. She wanted the fast and quick hits on her clit, those tiny explosions of sensations that would keep her working Thor hard but wouldn’t spiral her toward climax too fast. It also gave her enough headspace to keep in touch with everything happening with Thor, how often he swore under his breath, the clutch of his powerful hands on the steel handles beneath the bench. The lift and drop of his hips, the trembling of his thighs. He was biting down on the corner of the vinyl, his gaze rolling wildly toward her, hungry and fierce. He wanted to see her come. That would never do.

Slowing her pace enough to accommodate her intent, she pulled free the blindfold she’d tucked beneath her garter. Elongating her upper torso enough to put it over his eyes, she made sure it was secure. “Just feel me,” she whispered, taking a sharp bite of his earlobe. “Feel me fucking you and know you’re helpless. I am going to make you come, keep you completely under my control, and you’re not going to want to be anywhere else.”

“Yes ma’am. Yes…Mistress. Oh…fuck.” She’d straightened again, and now started rocking in and out in a sawing motion that had him nearly foaming at the mouth. Okay, getting close now, but she wasn’t yet ready for him to come. The energy was swirling hot and tight around her, so she closed her eyes, slowed it down once more. In deep, work the tip of the dildo in a rubbing, pressurized motion that made him cry out, then withdraw, leaving him shuddering on that cusp as she stroked his channel, dug her nails into his ass.