Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“You’re her master tonight, my love. She answers to you.” Mr. Bordeaux reaches for Loren’s erection from behind, and his fingers wrap around the base. “She’s my gift to you.”
“You’ve already given me so much, Master Bordeaux. A gift isn’t necessary.”
“Nothing is necessary, but I want to give this to you. You deserve a warm, wet place for this beautiful cock to go.” His strokes quicken, and Loren shudders. “You want to come, don’t you, my love?”
“Yes,” he hisses, jerking into his master’s fist.
“Then choose. Do you want to use her mouth, or her ass?”
Loren’s heavy-lidded gaze meets mine, and I silently plead for the first option, my expression stricken at the thought of option two.
“She has a beautiful mouth, Master Bordeaux.”
“Yes, she does. She’s beautiful through and through. Would you like to see her without clothing?”
“Y-yes.”
“Then command her. You are her master tonight. She knows not to disobey you.”
Loren licks his lips, the dart of his tongue more nervous than seductive. “I want you to remove your dress,” he tells me, lacking the hard-edged tone of his master.
I pull at the hem and work the dress up my torso and over my head, then I shimmy out of my panties, ass scooting on the soft leather cushion. My nipples pebble in the cool air, and Loren’s gaze latches onto them. With a deep-throated groan, he pushes into his master’s hand.
Mr. Bordeaux squeezes the tip, making Loren wince.
“I know she’s sexy, but you don’t get to come until I say you do.” Mr. Bordeaux’s zipper sounds, along with other movements that go unseen, and then he grips Loren’s hips, and by the way they both jerk, I know Mr. Bordeaux is claiming his ass. Teeth clenched, Loren hisses in a breath at the intrusion.
Muscular thighs slap against skin, chests heave, and cocks thrust—Loren’s into Mr. Bordeaux’s fist as his master seeks pleasure from behind.
“I need more,” Loren rasps, grunting a rhythmic song of agony laced with pleasure. Anytime he gets close to climaxing, Mr. Bordeaux squeezes the tip of his shaft.
That’s when I realize he’s using the maneuver to keep him from reaching orgasm.
“Do you want inside her mouth?”
“Yes, Master Bordeaux,” he groans.
“Then make her open for you.” The two tilt forward, and Loren holds onto the back of the lounge, his arms extended, muscles bulging from exertion as he thrusts the tip toward my lips.
“Do you want this?” Loren asks, dipping his head and searching my face.
I’m intrigued, and a little turned on watching them, but the honest answer is no, and I’m certain that isn’t what he’s hoping to hear.
“Y-yes…Master.”
I can do this for him, and I try to tell him so by holding his gaze as I part my lips.
Loren only hesitates a second before pushing inside. “Ah, God, Novalee.”
He’s heavy on my tongue, a mixture of salt and his own unique essence, and I work him the best I can, part of me wanting to give him pleasure.
The bigger part of me wants this to be over.
The three of us settle into a steady tempo, connected by sex and lust and submissive roles. Mr. Bordeaux pounds into Loren, his thrusts violent enough to pummel the cock in my mouth to the back of my throat.
I grab the cushion beneath me, fingers digging into leather, and hold on for all I’m worth. That’s all I can do—remain still, mouth spread wide as Loren rides my face. He’s so deep that the circle of Mr. Bordeaux’s fist pushes against my lips, gripping Loren at the base.
Every few minutes, he yanks Loren from my mouth and stops his orgasm with firm pressure to the head.
“Let me come, Master Bordeaux. Please.”
“Aren’t you enjoying her mouth?”
“Yes. Feels so good.” Loren shutters his eyes in frustration.
“When I come, you come.” Mr. Bordeaux gives a dark chuckle. “You should feel privileged, my love. Our beautiful queen doesn’t get to come at all.”
The reminder is a smack to the face, a splash of ice water on the sweat-inducing haze of depravity in the room. My mind steamrolls over the memory of my argument with Liam a few days ago, then slams into the brick wall of Sebastian’s taunting denial.
It seems every man in this tower wants to put my orgasms on lockdown.
Loren thrusts into my mouth again, and then Mr. Bordeaux grunts, both hands gouging Loren’s hips as he groans a series of unintelligible cries. He empties into his lover, and that sends Loren over the edge. His release is a fountain of completion, intense and prolonged from his master’s game of stopping and starting. I choke and cough as his climax hits the back of my throat, but afterward…
Loren smiles down at me, skin bathed in sweat, gray eyes brimming with gratitude, and I can’t find an iota in me that regrets being part of his pleasure.