17
ALANNA decided a wedding and reception were aphrodisiacs. Niall and Evan both danced with her at different times during the reception. Holding her close, the two men took turns stroking her sensitive neck, shoulder blades and lower, the curve of spine revealed by the low back of her dress, hands lingering low on her hips. Niall played a game with her, seeing if she could guess the Dominants and submissives on the guest list through body language, nuances of conversation, significant pauses. It made her think about the following night and what type of participation Evan would prefer. The anticipation gave her some very vivid fantasies.
But there was a strong emotional draw to the festivities as well. Watching her handsome males interact with other guests, smile and laugh, hearing the rumble of their voices near her, noticing how they both glanced her way often, maintaining the connection with her, she felt like she was being woven into the fabric of their relationship, a permanent and accepted part of it. Since it was clear she was involved with both men, she was the recipient of a few speculative and envious glances from attendees who were unaware of the orientation of the groom and the many other guests, but she had no desire to discourage Niall or Evan from their obvious physical possessiveness.
When the bride and groom were escorted to a garden house prepared especially for their first night as a married couple, and the reception concluded, she and Niall returned to the guesthouse hand-in-hand. Evan indicated he would join them after a brief discussion with Tyler. Shrugging out of his coat and pulling off the tie first thing, Niall draped them over the wicker chair, then tugged her to him.
“Ye can put that up later. Come here.”
“What happened to ‘If he knocked it off, he can pick it up’? ”
“That was before I realized how nice it is tae have a lass doing all the chores.” He fended off her punch, and tucked her in close, running his hand over her backside, thumb pressing into the crease with brazen intent as he gripped her hard. “Christ, I’ve wanted to do that for hours.”
“I wish we could all three share the cellar bed.” She breathed against his mouth. “I want to be with both of you.”
“So I heard.” His brown eyes warmed as he lifted his head. “Heaven in both our arms . . .”
She flushed. “I exaggerated for the bride. I didn’t want to remind her of the more tiresome and boorish habits males can have.”
“Tiresome and boorish? ’Tis a lucky lass who gets to be with the likes of us.”
Did he know what thickening the accent while he still wore the Highland garb did to her? She had a feeling he did.
“So you say.” She managed a credible sniff, but it was no contest when he pulled her closer, brushed her hair to the side and put his lips to her neck, her jaw pressed to his, feeling the working of his throat as he gently teased that sensitive vein. Her breath left her, fingers coiling in his hair, trying not to mess up how she’d arranged it. With an impatient noise, he pulled the queue loose, letting her know he wanted her fingers buried in it.
“Being pretty is done for the day. I’d rather look well-used by an eager wench.”
She bit his jaw, earning a chuckle as he returned the favor. She willingly dug her fingers into his scalp, enjoying the thick tangle of his hair, her body starting to pulse in fervent need. She thought of what Chloe had said about wanting to devour Brendan, and knew exactly how she felt.
Niall banded his arms around her waist to lift her. He didn’t take her to their room, but instead surprised her by taking her below, to the cellar. In Evan’s bedroom, he put his mouth on hers, holding the embrace until he laid her on the bed facedown. He moved the pillows so her cheek was against the mattress. “Arms and legs spread, muirnín,” he ordered.
She obeyed instantly, her body amping up its responses when he produced silken rope from a drawer next to the bed. The type of amenities available when one stayed on the property of a sexual Dominant. Not much different from being in the guesthouse of a vampire, after all.
Niall skillfully knotted the ropes around her wrists and ankles, drawing out the spread position until her body was pressed even deeper into the mattress, her mound and breasts tingling with the pressure. When he was done, he slid his knuckles down her spine, swept her hair off her back, so there was a clear expanse of flesh for him to see. “F*cking gorgeous,” he muttered. She tried to look toward him, but he made a quiet noise of command.
“Nane of your temptations tonight. Ye led me by my cock to get me to sleep, but ye only get away with that on rare occasion. Evan wants to peel ye out of everything but those flimsy stockings and heels himself.”
He slid a blindfold over her eyes, one with a snug Velcro closure on the back to ensure that it wouldn’t loosen. She was beginning to tremble. Though it was certainly not the first time she’d been bound this way, everything with them felt like the first time.
When he put his knee on the bed between her legs, her heart was beating high in her throat, her p-ssy weeping. True to his Master’s desires, he’d kept her in her wedding attire, the silver dress, thigh-high lace stockings. She wasn’t wearing any panties since it would have ruined the snug line of the skirt. He hadn’t even removed her heels, looping the rope over the tops of her feet so it kept the shoes bound to her soles.
Sliding down the side zipper of the dress, he slid his fingers into the opening, stroking her body from below her breast to her hip bone. At her noise of pleasure, he made an approving rumble.
“Aye, you’re hot for it. We could tell, those hungry eyes at the reception. Fair killed us, not taking ye then and there. But ’tis a drug to us, lass, drawing out your desire. Particularly to a vampire. I’m to leave you like this, let ye think about what Evan might have planned for you.”
She didn’t want him to leave. It wasn’t a demand—never that—but a plea. She wanted to give them both pleasure, let them take their fill of her, of each other. She could vividly imagine Niall buried inside of her from behind like this, while Evan f*cked him, held them both under his power.
“I serve our Master,” she responded. She wouldn’t let her own desires eclipse theirs. “Whatever he wants. Whatever either of you want.”
His fingers paused in their long stroke, then he pressed a kiss to her spine, just above the back of the dress. “You, muirnín. We both want you.”
Then he was gone. Being a wine cellar, the room was cool, but it wasn’t uncomfortable to her, not with the heat of Niall’s touch still affecting her. She was vulnerable, facedown, blindfolded, but an InhServ had no defenses against her Master’s desires. She submitted, surrendered. Heart, mind, soul, body . . . utterly his . . .
She used it as a meditation exercise, weaving arousal with acceptance, patience. She’d never had difficulty waiting on Stephen’s desires. Perhaps patience and indifference could look very much the same.
Now, however, there was no mistaking one for the other. Her p-ssy was wet, needy. As she squirmed, rotated her hips, the mattress gave her * the pressure it craved. She thought of Evan watching her, perhaps allowing Niall to do the same, and made the movement as provocative as possible, lifting her hips like an animal in heat, tempting a male . . . or males . . . closer. She licked her lips at the resulting wave of sensation, did it again.
Her continuing dance brought the short skirt high enough to expose the slick pink lips of her sex when she lifted her hips, begging to be f*cked, to be tongued there. She thought of Niall’s thick fingers pushing into that opening, the clever way he had of rubbing her, making her come apart. Her fingers flexed in her bonds. He’d used a knot that wouldn’t tighten on her wrists, keeping her bound but not restricted in circulation. No pain or discomfort. He and Evan cared for her, watched over her, and it made her long for them even more.
Tomorrow night, she would perform with any other submissive they required, but the end goal would be the same. Them touching her, taking her . . . She didn’t want anyone else, she wanted them. She needed them. Longed for them.
She wasn’t being deliberate now. Her body moved of its own accord against the mattress, rubbing her * in a faster motion, building the orgasm in her lower belly. She couldn’t go over, wouldn’t without her Master’s consent, but she wanted to show him how hot she could get for him, making her p-ssy cream to the point the scent would reach his enhanced vampire senses.
“You teased your Master into coming to you.”
He was here. She came to a shuddering halt, almost moaning at the sound of his voice. It held a sternness that made her doubt herself, though. She’d misbehaved, earned his disapproval.
“No, Alanna. You have not earned my disapproval. Only my punishment.”
Thin strips slid down her exposed buttock, the dress bunched at the small of her back. “So courteous of you to lift your skirt for me. There are craftspeople here who make things for Masters to inflict punishment. I got a tawse for Niall, which might be powerful enough to pull a grunt out of him. I look forward to the attempt. But this slapper of treated wood strips is perfect for you. Lift that beautiful ass of yours, like when you were begging for my cock. You hold it there until I say otherwise. I don’t want to hear a sound out of you.”
She complied, trembling, and when the first blow landed, she bit down hard to obey. Thin and flexible, the slapper stung like bees, and it smacked against her ass with a sound like a shot, increasing the reaction. The last time he’d punished her, it had been to chastise her only. He intended to goad her arousal with the pain this time, and with her current level of stimulation, she was simply swept away.
Thwack, thwack! He covered all the territory she’d exposed, and her muscles were trembling with the effort to hold her ass in the air, to hold completely still. She dug her fingers into her bonds, bit the mattress, tried not to scream into it, but before he was done, she was, trying to muffle the noise as best she could.
She was panting. When a few moments passed without further blows, she thought he was studying his handiwork, the marks on her buttocks. Was he hard? She imagined him opening the dark slacks he’d worn with his tuxedo, stroking himself over her, coming so that his seed splashed against her abused ass. She kept her hips lifted as he required, hoping for it.
He didn’t give her that, but something just as blissful. The heat of his breath, so close to her soaking wet folds. He didn’t touch her with his mouth. She just felt its proximity when he blew gently on her. A soft, continuous air flow moving over her * and labia, a ripple of sensation that made her sob. “Please . . . Master . . .”
“Shhh. Be quiet.” He kept doing it, that tiny little current of air across her engorged * until she would have given him anything to come. There was nothing in her mind but those sensations. Then he touched his lips to her *, one solid pressure, and she was lost.
Stay still, but come for me, Alanna. Do it.
He pulled away, leaving her bereft, yet she would obey him no matter what. All it took was the thought, the echoes of those sensations still vibrating through her. Her empty p-ssy spasmed, taking her over the edge. She was unable to quell the involuntary, short pumps of her hips, but he was suddenly there, hands now on her hips, holding them up higher. She shrieked as he slammed his cock in deep, working inside her.
“Oh God . . . Master . . .”
“That’s my sweet, sweet servant,” he muttered, the strain in his voice sending a surge of triumph through her. She clenched her muscles over him, reveling in the slick, excruciating glide of his shaft inside her. That strained note became a groan of release, and she cried out with him, sharing that ecstasy as aftershocks shot through her with his seed.
She couldn’t ever imagine wanting anything more . . . but then she was proven wrong.
When he finished, he slid from her, slow and easy. She made a noise of loss and yearning that seemed to please him, for he tugged her hair, a partial caress. Her bonds were released, but only so the vampire could turn her over, restraining her spread eagle once again. It was decadent, her clothes in disarray but still on her body, as if he hadn’t the patience to rid her of them. His fingers caressed her thighs, teasing the lace tops of the stockings.
Then she made another noise of pure ecstasy as she smelled Niall, the scent of his aroused cock, a moment before it was pushing into her eager mouth. As he straddled her, testicles brushing her sternum, bare thighs around her shoulders, equally bare buttocks pressing against her breasts, she realized he was blissfully naked. The mattress shifted beneath her as Niall caught hold of the headboard.
“Yes . . .” She breathed it against his rigid flesh, sucking and working him as deep as she could, while Evan straddled her waist. Both men were over her body, and she loved it. She wished she could see them, but that wasn’t her job. She was here to keep Niall hard, to take him down her throat when Evan f*cked him to climax.
The Scot gave a grunt as his Master took him, thrusting deep into his ass, such that their knees pressed harder into the bed on either side of her. Oh God . . . yes. Yes.
Your ass is as sweet to me as hers, neshama. Tighten against me. Come in her mouth. Let me feel what I can do to you. To both of you.
Tonight the Scot was in full accord with the vampire. With a deep, guttural sound, Niall came, the headboard rocking ominously. They might have to compensate Tyler and Marguerite for damage to the furniture after all. Both men had found release quickly, telling her their need had built the way hers had, until it was pushing inexorably against whatever control they had. She loved the thought, as well as the idea they might do it again and again tonight, their need stoked that high.
Her throat worked, taking down the jet of Niall’s semen. It filled her mouth, forcing her to seal her lips firmly over him, holding it all in as she managed it in several swallows. She kept sucking on him, tongue sliding over the sensitive underside, pulling hard on the ridged head as he became progressively more sensitive. When he grasped her hair in a quelling motion, he let out a half chuckle, half curse as she nipped at him.
“Payback’ll be hell, lass. I can eat your cunt all day while ye wiggle and scream and plead for me to stop.”
She wouldn’t ever want him to stop, no matter how oversensitized the area became. Just the idea of his mouth on her p-ssy had her shuddering anew. It must have stimulated Evan as well, for as she predicted, he made the decision to start all over again, working himself deeper and harder in Niall’s ass, winning strained grunts from the big male as the vampire reached back with those long, clever fingers to tease her * to that high pinnacle again as well.
She’d never felt so . . . purposed. A true servant at last.
The full-sized bed might be too small for two sizeable men and one woman on a normal night, but not when they were tangled together like vines. They’d fallen asleep for a short nap, her coiled in between them. When Niall roused later, she would have gone with him, but Evan cinched her closer, and Niall put a kiss on her shoulder. “Sleep with our Master, muirnín,” he said. “You’ll need your strength tonight. I’ll take care of the things that need doing.”
Evan kept her in the curve of his body, one hand on her waist, the other resting on her throat, fingers along her pulse, elbow in between her breasts. It was an effective and sensual body lock that made her aware of every inch of her skin pressed to his, for not only had they stripped her fully following their thorough lovemaking, Evan had shed his clothes as well. She enjoyed the rare pleasure of their completely bare, hard bodies pressed against her.
They’d left her tied and blindfolded for a while, forbidding her to speak. They’d spoken to each other, though, casual conversations as they took their fill of fondling her body. It had aroused her to an excruciating level again, and she knew that was what Evan wanted. It was what a vampire enjoyed most, that sadistic infliction of pleasure, and the fact that Evan was unleashing it with her as well as Niall kept her in a lust-filled euphoria.
Now, still dozing, Evan pressed his erection against her. When she parted her thighs, he pushed inside, making her draw in a deep, shuddering, peaceful breath as he stopped there, simply staying inside her as he slept on. Wherever his dreams were taking him, he wanted to be buried in her cunt, joined to her.
Most vampires she knew would react to the idea of postcoital cuddling like having windows thrown open over their beds in broad daylight. But Evan and Niall . . . they’d done it several times, now. Well, Niall had. Usually Evan had to leave them to it, because they were above ground and the sun came up. But now she was in the arms of a vampire who obviously intended for her to stay in his company until it was time to rise for the evening festivities, where she would be presented as his devoted slave.
If she was to make a list of the most wonderful experiences she’d ever had in her life, she had a feeling all top ten would be counted among these few weeks. Closing her eyes, she slept.
In their skill for presentation, Tyler and Marguerite could compete with vampires. It being another nice night, they’d turned the elaborate back gardens into a dungeon play area. Expensive pieces of BDSM equipment were integrated into the landscaping as if they’d always been there. Staff from the club where Tyler shared part ownership moved around with hors d’oeuvres and drinks, taking requests for particular toys or accessories, if they weren’t readily at hand.
Beside a fountain pool graced with a center statue of Aphrodite, Alanna saw a male submissive kneeling. He was pressed down over the fountain wall, his hands flat on the pool’s bottom, arms immersed to the biceps in the water. Koi slowly swam around them, nibbling, as his Mistress worked herself inside his flexing ass with a sizeable strap-on. At her order, he would periodically lower his face in the water, keep it there for a few seconds as she f*cked him, until she put her fingers on the head harness he wore to draw him back up, gasping.
Niall, strolling along arm-and-arm with her, discreetly pointed out staff members in black shirts whose job it was to watch over the play, make sure nothing got out of hand, since there were obviously a lot of edge players in the ranks. As such, one was carefully monitoring the sub when he was underwater, but she noted the Mistress was just as alert to any signs of distress or choking.
“’Tis pretty tame, compared tae a vampire gathering, but for humans, this is as extreme as it gets, within the boundaries of mortal frailty and common sense, of course. Speaking of which . . .” He passed a hand over her backside, giving her a fond squeeze. “Any soreness left? You wouldnae know it to look at the skinny runt, but Evan can get . . . enthusiastic.”
She’d found one thing she liked about the blocker. The marks inflicted by her Master lingered, allowing her to touch them, see them. With the outfit Evan had ordered her to wear, they were also on display to everyone who passed. And she was overjoyed by it.
The upper garment was an arrangement of black velvet-coated straps that passed under and over her breasts, constricting them in a mild breast bondage to make them even more full and eye catching. The buckled strap beneath had an edging of silver chains tipped with tiny stars that pricked her skin as she moved. The bottom was a thong accentuated by thigh-high latex stockings, as well as teetering stilettos that arched her back and put her buttocks on high display, along with the marks of her punishment. Slim chains encircled her ankles and passed underneath the soles of the shoes, locking there.
Evan had sat in a chair, watching Niall dress her, his gaze passing over the curve of the Scot’s back as he knelt to lock the shoes onto her feet. For this event Niall wore only a utility kilt and Goth-style heavy boots with a series of buckles. She loved the look on him, had wanted to trail her fingers up his bare back, press her mouth to the dragon on his chest when he rose, but since Evan had told her to keep her fingers locked behind her head until he was done outfitting her the way he desired, she’d obeyed her Master. Tonight, she wanted nothing more than to serve his every desire, no matter if it left her in a mindless frenzy, caught up in her own arousal.
She loved the idea of wearing something that pleased them both, going as their servant, ready to perform for their pleasure. Stephen had rated her performance in terms of political advantage, but with Evan and Niall, she would be acting purely on their desires, their interests, and that gave her a swirl of anxious anticipation that was new and exciting.
Evan had left the last piece of the outfit for himself. When her Master rose from the chair, Niall stepping aside, her breath had caught, seeing that Evan was holding a collar. His eyes on her reaction, he put the wide strap around her throat. It fastened in the back, secured with a padlock. When he showed her the key, brushed his knuckles along her cheek, she pressed her lips fervently to the fingers that held it.
“If I had time, I would have had a tag made for it,” he’d said, his gray eyes caressing her face. “So they would know who your Master is.”
She’d closed her eyes as he tightened the collar, one step beyond restricting her breathing, just how she wanted it. Actually, she would have been fine with him stealing her breath away entirely. She knew who her Master was. It was stamped on her every reaction. The intensity of his expression had told her he heard her thought.
Niall brought her back to the present. “The rosy color of your nipples is driving everyone to distraction. If ye had a third mark, he’d have told me to pierce them tonight, put a pretty silver bar through each one.”
“We can still—”
“No.” Niall gave her that steady, brook-no-argument look that, unlike his teasing, could stop her words in a heartbeat. “He kens ye can bear the pain, but they wouldnae heal right away. He wants your breasts accessible to him. And so do I.” As they walked, he brought a hand up along her side to boldly cup one, heedless of the passersby. She made a needy sound as he caressed and squeezed it. “You’ll tell me if the straps get too restrictive, lass. We’re goin’ to loosen them in the half hour regardless.”
She could bear any discomfort for their pleasure, but Niall had made a good point. Without the regenerative power of a third mark, too much pain or discomfort would impair her ability to serve them. Of course, the healing of a nipple piercing, the loss of circulation to her breasts, were only problems if her agony was an issue to the vampire. But it was to this particular vampire and his servant, far more than it would have been to Stephen. Which perversely made her want to have Niall do it, prove she’d endure any pain for Evan.
Niall’s fingers tightened on hers. “Behave,” he murmured. “Submitting to your Master means submitting to his will in all things. Ye didnae get to pick and choose. Ye know that, lass.”
So Evan was close, and sharing her thoughts with Niall. It was a direct reproof. A few days ago, any rebuke had diminished her, emphasizing her failure and inadequacy. Now she absorbed it into this new fragile sense of herself, a servant eager to serve a Master who cared enough to protect her.
Him and his servant. Niall might appreciate her appearance, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. The hard muscles of his bare upper body shifted against her side and back where he walked close beside her. The way he moved in the dark utility kilt, his sheer size and presence, was mesmerizing, and not just to her. The other women might speculate, but she knew there was nothing under the kilt. She wanted to go to her knees in her provocative outfit, push the fabric up his strong thighs and put her mouth on him. Lubricate his cock from the arousal between her thighs and then rub him between her tender breasts until he came . . .
Niall gave her a rough, impatient kiss. “We should have kept ye in the cellar and f*cked ye a hundred times. Stop thinking thoughts like that.”
“If my Master wants to torment you with my thoughts, it’s not for me to deprive him of that pleasure,” she observed demurely.
His pinch made her jump. “Remember what I said about ‘Master’ not being around to protect you. I’ll put ye over a bench and strap you within an inch of your life. Evan’ll join us after his meeting, but Marcus Stanton isnae known for being short-winded when harassing his artists. I have a guid hour at least tae impress upon ye the wisdom of yanking a bear’s chain.”
She suppressed a smile, but when he rested his hand high on her buttock, long fingers wrapped around it to stroke her bare hip bone, she had to concentrate to keep her head up, to walk in a way that best presented her Master’s assets.
“I was watching Evan and Tyler at the reception,” she said, attempting to distract herself. “Their relationship seems to extend beyond a mutual appreciation for art. How did they meet?”
“Always the observant one.” Niall nodded. “Tyler used to work for the government. One o’ those mysterious agencies. He’s never said which one. Our paths crossed his in the Middle East. Tyler got betrayed by a key informant, and we stumbled on him in a tough spot. He was overwhelmed in numbers and firepower. Though we didnae know a thing about him, neither Evan nor I liked the feel of it, so we got him out of there.”
Niall shrugged. “The lad was beat up pretty badly, so Evan took most his weight and dragged him out of there. Guid thing he was there to shield Tyler, because Evan took several slugs in the back that would have killed a human. I took a gun away from one of the bastards and laid down cover fire while Evan used his speed to get Tyler free of it. I caught up with them later. That third mark speed is fair handy at times.” He gave her a wink.
“After that, he must have realized the two of you were something . . . different. Or was he too out of it to remember what happened?” She didn’t like to think of bullets hitting Evan, or Niall in the line of fire, no matter how indestructible they imagined themselves.
“Ye could beat that lad’s head into a brick wall for an hour and he’d still have his wits about him,” Niall said dryly. “If I didnae know for certain he was human, I’d swear Tyler had vampire or Fae blood. But aye, I think he realizes we’re not exactly what we say we are. Never to this day has he said a word about it, though.”
Which was good, because the Council forbade knowledge of vampires among humans not integrated into their society through at least a first- or second-marking.
“Most folk find it easier tae overlook something like that than to entertain the idea of vampires,” Niall said. “But Tyler’s like Evan. He sees things other people dinnae, and he’s careful how he uses the information.”
She thought about that as they continued to wander through the party, studying the public scenes being executed by other Masters and Mistresses with their willing subs. While Niall nodded to several submissives not currently engaged, ones he obviously knew, he also demonstrated courteous deference to the Masters and Mistresses. She saw them acknowledge he was here as Evan’s, but she also caught the speculative looks, reflecting some of the same thoughts she’d had about Niall.
Evan and Niall reminded her of Tyler and Marguerite. Niall told her Tyler rarely exercised his rights as Master over Marguerite in mixed company, but she’d seen the subtle signs of her submission when Tyler touched his wife. Her gaze would briefly lower, her body gravitating toward his, her fingers docile in his grasp, seeking permission to touch. Yet when the woman looked toward a sub, she exuded a Mistress’s power, the sense she had the right to touch anything she damn well pleased . . . and he’d beg for her to do so.
“Oh . . . my.”
They’d reached the side lawn. Down where the wedding had occurred, a different ritual was occurring at the altar. Brendan’s upright body was a demonstration of Japanese rope tying, done by Chloe herself. A rope harness ran from throat to groin, with further diamond patterns and wraps down his legs and arms. His limbs were bound to the altar, holding him upright and stretched to the limits. He’d been thoroughly oiled beforehand, so his flesh glistened. His bride was on folded knees, staring up at him in adoration. She wore a brown velvet skirt that came to her ankles and purple Ked sneakers. A lavender T-shirt hugged her lush curves. She still wore the satin ribbon Alanna had put in her hair.
Brendan had been blindfolded, much like Alanna had been earlier on the bed. Apparently, Chloe understood as well as Evan and Niall did how sensory deprivation heightened and focused response. When Chloe reached out, slid her fingers through the oil on his thighs, up to the part of the harness that pressed against his testicles, his muscles flexed in instant reaction. She’d used a smaller grade of rope to do an intricate cock harness, the head plum-colored from the restraint. Now Chloe leaned forward and tasted, a kitten’s lick on the tip, and he bucked, showing how aroused he was. Loosening the cock harness, she slid it free and massaged him, rising to her knees to put her mouth on his abdomen, his hip bone, a reverent worship of the man who’d surrendered to her.
Chloe had woven a spell around those watching, yet it was obvious the new bride wasn’t aware of anything but her husband. When she stood up, she slid her arms around his bound torso. “I love you,” she said. “You are so perfect.”
He was unable to dip his head because she’d attached the wide collar he wore to two horizontal tethers, but the strain of his body against her gave his answer to that. Sliding under his arm, she went behind him. Her hands glided down the front of his body to curl around the ropes, tug on the ones that looped under his testicles. His cock slit glistened with fluid.
Alanna was at a side angle to the stage, so she could see the harness in back had a line of knots threaded between his buttocks. When Chloe worked them against his rim, he pumped against her hold, f*cking the air.
“Do you want to please me?” she whispered.
“More than anything,” he said hoarsely. “Let me please you.”
Niall had his arm around Alanna’s waist. She gripped his forearm hard, aware of his heartbeat behind her back, the press of his heavy kilt against her bare buttocks. He cupped her breast, thumb brushing idly over her nipple, making her whimper softly.
“Do ye want to please me, lass?” Niall’s voice was in her ear.
Yes. God yes. She was so wet she felt the sucking dampness when he moved the thong aside. His probing touch made her catch her lip in her teeth. She wanted him to lift his kilt, bend his knees and drive into her with third-mark strength. With Niall’s strength.
Despite the oil on Brendan’s skin, Chloe pressed fully against her husband’s back, wrapping both hands around his cock. “Come for me. Here. In front of all of them, so they know you’re mine. Okay?”
Her soft voice wasn’t a Mistress’s demand, but a sweet desire, a need expressed, and Brendan thrust into her fingers. “Please . . .” he said. “Yes. Anything.”
She began to work him, slow, long strokes. The gathered audience was absorbed in it, Alanna no exception. Niall brought her closer to a bench in front of them. The Mistress who sat there looked nearly six feet tall, black skinned and red-haired, intimidating even without the coiled single tail next to her. She wore a buckled corset over tight leggings and thigh-high boots.
When she looked back at them, her dark brown eyes coursed over Alanna’s features, measuring her aroused state, as well as Niall’s hot male intent.
“She’s welcome to put her hands here, Niall.” She nodded at the back of the bench, her voice a husky purr. “I’ve seen what meat you bring to the table. She’ll need something to hang on to.”
“Do it,” Niall ordered, breath bathing her neck. Alanna clamped down on the smooth wood. As Niall adjusted his kilt, the Mistress tilted her head to watch, her tongue touching her top lip at what he revealed. Her gaze shifted to Alanna’s face as Niall drove into her wet cunt.
Alanna shuddered, internalizing the incredible energy, because she wouldn’t distract from Chloe’s beautiful display, any more than she would deny Niall. The Mistress was right, however. She needed the brace of the bench, especially when the Scot lifted her off her feet enough that she hooked her stilettos around his calves for further support.
The Mistress turned her attention back to the stage, but a feral smile curved her lips, showing her pleasure in the rhythmic vibration going through her seat as Niall mirrored Chloe’s pace, thrusting in slow, pulling out slow, making Alanna come apart.
At this angle, she realized Brendan had a brand on his lower back, a fleur de lis like her InhServ mark, with two decorative elements around it. The mark of a willing slave.
The air was so dense with lust, it didn’t surprise Alanna when the Mistress put her hand between her own legs, began to play with her p-ssy through the latex. She threaded her other arm beneath Alanna’s grip, so that Alanna’s exposed nipples were brushing her forearm, increasing the friction. That female–female contact galvanized Niall as well, and Alanna clutched the bench harder, biting back an involuntary grunt at the power he used to drive into her.
“Showing ye about like this brings out the animal in us, muirnín,” he muttered in her ear. “Evan wants me to take ye hard, remind ye and everyone else you’re ours. And so do I.”
So did she. Oh God, she did.
The Mistress was still masturbating, her fingertips sliding along the bench edge as if she was caressing flesh.
“Now, baby,” Chloe said. Brendan began to release, ropes of come spurting through Chloe’s fingers and over the platform. He groaned loudly, all the swimmer’s muscles flowing under her touch. Chloe had her face pressed into his back, but as she turned her cheek so it was pressed against his heart, Alanna could see she was whispering to him, words of utter devotion as she held herself against his flexing ass.
“Niall . . .” She was gasping herself. There were other similar interactions happening on the lawn, helping to cover the noise, but then the Mistress began to idly tug on the buckle beneath Alanna’s breasts, teasing her compressed cleavage with scarlet nails.
“Come quietly, muirnín.” Niall put his large hand up to Alanna’s mouth, and she sank her teeth into the two fingers he pushed against it like a bit gag. She shrieked, unable to control herself. The stimulus was overwhelming, Brendan coming before her eyes, the Mistress’s contact with her breasts, Niall and Evan’s not-so-casual decision to possess her in public to validate their claim. Most of all Niall, releasing in her spasming p-ssy.
He kept thrusting well after the major crash, so that she was still bleating against his hand, small aftershocks. She wanted nothing more than to go to her knees and clean him with her mouth, finish her duty.
“Nae right now, lass. We owe Mistress Regina a debt.”
As he eased her back to her feet and her mind steadied under the Mistress’s close regard, Alanna understood what he meant.
“Is your servant practiced at giving a woman pleasure?” the Mistress asked, looking past Alanna, treating Niall as her Master-by-proxy. “I thought you might sit with me while she licks my p-ssy.”
Niall pressed a kiss to Alanna’s sweaty neck, pulling his kilt down. “She’s not my servant, as ye well know, but Evan demands I be courteous to all ladies.” He gave Regina a wicked grin. “A hot poker in my eyes is the only thing that will keep me from looking, though, so I might still be in your debt when she’s done for you.”
The woman chuckled. “If I was Evan, I’d put your cock in a sharp-pronged chastity device to keep your mind where it should be, Niall.”
“What fun would that have been, just now? You’d have missed the chance to ogle it.”
Niall guided Alanna around the bench, fingers on her elbow to steady her wobbly knees. “Do as the lady desires, Alanna.”
She was still vibrating, could smell the woman’s desire strong and sharp. Going down on her knees in the grass exposed her bare backside to those whose attention turned to their activities. She could handle the physical demand; it was no different from much more strenuous things she’d done at vampire dinners. But wrapping her mind around what had just happened—her reaction to Chloe and Brendan, Niall’s claim spoken hotly into her ear, how she herself reacted to his touch, to the way he and Evan were—gave her a lot of emotions to manage.
As such, it was good to have Niall’s reassuring presence. He slid onto the bench next to Regina, stretching out a leg so Alanna could grip his thigh to steady herself. She positioned herself between the woman’s legs.
“I can order my boy to do whatever you desire to her exposed parts.” Mistress Regina nodded to a pretty, slender man in a submissive posture a few yards away. When he thought he could get away with it, he was casting her brooding looks. “He’s being punished for insolence, so he gets to watch his Mistress be pleasured rather than doing it himself. I’m certain he’d be able to give her a most enthusiastic whipping with the object of your choice.”
I’ll break him like the twig he is if he puts a finger on her. He’s looking a little too angry for my tastes.
That came from Niall, but Evan had let her hear it. Throughout their evening, Niall had purposefully steered her away from any interaction with males. Was that Evan’s desire or his own? Or both? Stephen hadn’t cared one way or another, but then Evan never fit the mold of what she expected.
Of course, she herself had unexpectedly tensed at the Mistress’s suggestion, that feeling easing when Niall stroked her hair.
“It’s not necessary.” He drew Regina’s attention to the marks on Alanna’s backside, gently sliding the toe of his large boot along the curve of her buttock. “Her Master already attended to her discipline today. Alanna, proceed at the Mistress’s order.”
She completed the task to Mistress Regina’s satisfaction, though the woman had formidable control and drew out the torment of her male servant until the young man was fair quivering with vitriol. When she finally came, her fingers locked on the back of Alanna’s neck, she left the imprint of her nails there, though she stopped short of drawing blood.
Once done with that, Niall took them strolling again. He must have realized she was a little drained, at least emotionally, so he set a relaxed pace, and made it clear they were just observing. Evan had been silent since letting her hear Niall’s thought, obviously now too deeply into his meeting to interact with them. She was starting to miss him quite keenly, seeing so many Masters and Mistresses interacting with their committed submissives. Though he didn’t say so, she had a feeling Niall shared her restiveness about it.
While some groups were still using equipment, others were merely socializing, sitting in chair groupings, sipping drinks refilled by the circulating staff. Others were in the indoor pool, whose windows and doors were thrown open to allow viewing of the naked, wet bodies.
She studied the Dominant and submissive pairings, guessing which ones were in more intense, permanent relationships versus those still in “dating” or play mode, perhaps together for this event only. Niall played along, confirming or denying, but she was warmed by his surprise at how many she guessed accurately.
About an hour later they ran into Chloe and Brendan again. Now they were both dressed, Brendan in a pair of faded jeans, Chloe on his lap, the couple sitting on a large blanket on the lawn. Chloe hadn’t changed her shirt, and it had an interesting, artistic stain pattern, transferred to the fabric from the oil on Brendan’s body. The couple was surrounded by a chatting group of friends, but when Chloe saw them, she waved them over, jumping to her feet. “Niall. I didn’t get to say hello to you earlier. The whole wedding thing and all.”
Alanna blinked as Chloe took two steps and leaped upon the Scot. He’d anticipated the reaction, adjusting as she wrapped legs and arms around him and squeezed. “Hey, what happened to the other dragon? You used to have two of them, here.” Chloe thumped his broad chest.
“Evan drew a few on me until he decided what he wanted—fighting dragons, mating dragons—but I told him I’d prefer not having beast pornography on my chest for the rest of my life.”
Chloe grinned. “I was so happy you were able to make it. Tyler was sure you guys would be in an Antarctic cave. It blew me away to find you were so close by. It was fate.”
“How could ye doubt it, little sprite?” Niall kissed her soundly on the mouth, then let her slip back to her feet. “Brendan, ye’ve walked right into a fairy ring with this one.”
Seizing Alanna’s hands, Chloe turned her toward her husband. “Brendan, this is Alanna. She belongs to Niall and Evan.”
Brendan might have gotten to his feet in courtesy, but Chloe flung herself back into his lap, so he caught her with one arm, grinning as he and Alanna maintained precarious balance through a handshake. “My pleasure, Alanna.” His voice had a sexy, firm timbre.
Chloe shook her head, already on to another topic. “Niall, go rescue Evan from Marcus. Josh and Thomas haven’t come back, either. Lauren couldn’t make it, because of a pediatric emergency, so Josh has no one to rescue him, and of course Thomas is Marcus’s, so he’s stuck with his bullying. Don’t send Alanna. She’s much too sweet. Marcus will do the Dom thing to scare her away, and I’ll have to punch him in the face. You’ll tell him to piss off and drag Evan out of there.”
“Dinnae underestimate Alanna. She’s handled Masters far scarier than Marcus.” Niall shot Alanna a droll look.
Chloe sighed. “Knowing Marcus, he’s trying to make them create his next hefty commission check right out of their backsides, here and now. I want to see Evan, and I’m getting sleepy. I know how you guys are. You disappear in the middle of the night, and I won’t see you again until forever.”
Niall gave Alanna’s hip a caress. “I cannae refuse the bride. Stay with Chloe until I get back. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Guid lass.” He gave her backside a firm squeeze, a reminder. As he strode away, she watched the graceful power of his movements until he disappeared past the pool house.
“See, even she does it.”
Chloe spoke to Brendan, drawing Alanna down to sit on his feet on the blanket. Brendan courteously adjusted so Alanna could prop her back on his calf while Chloe leaned against his hip, a casually intimate pose. “Does what?” Alanna asked.
“You don’t treat Niall like another sub. No one does, except Evan, and even with him it’s hit or miss. I thought Niall was a Dom when I met him, until I saw him with Evan, and then you can definitely see it. Niall’s an über-alpha sub. He can flip the Dom switch when he wants, but I bet Evan’s the only one who gets the awesome benefit of the sub side.” Chloe gave her an impish wink. “Both the artists I know, Josh and Thomas, they’re subs to the bone, but with Evan, you’re around him two seconds and you know that’s not him.”
Brendan nuzzled Chloe’s ear, his fingers slipping along her side, thumb caressing the underside of her breast. The gaze Chloe turned upon him, the press of her lips to his jaw, suggested it might not be sleepiness that would have them retiring soon. On the altar stage, they’d given and received pleasure for the audience as well as themselves. Now it was obvious they wanted to indulge the quiet intimacy of a married couple.
“Evan has a different kind of Dom vibe though,” Chloe mused, a little more breathless. She offered another cheeky grin. “Marcus and Tyler, they broadcast theirs like a moose’s mating call. They can’t hide it. But Evan’s sneaks up on you, surrounds you. You sense it like a pittosporum bush in bloom. Have you ever smelled one?”
When Alanna shook her head, Chloe inhaled deeply, stretching out her arms as if she was about to embrace the referenced foliage. “The flowers have a light, barely there scent, but after the first or second whiff, suddenly it’s all inside you. If that makes sense. Evan probably doesn’t want to be compared to girly flowers though.”
“I think Niall worries more about that kind of thing than Evan does.” It was new to Alanna, speculating on the type of Master she had, but it seemed all right in this context, as long as she chose her words carefully. “Evan’s focus is different. Being a Master is part of his blood, almost an afterthought. So he doesn’t pay much attention to it. It just is. The art . . . that’s what drives him first and foremost.”
Chloe nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly it.” Slipping her hand around Brendan’s calf, she slid down farther against his body so she could lean her head against his knee. He stroked her head, his expression absorbed, quiet. Familiar with the state of mind, she could tell he was taking in not only their conversation, but everything else happening. He was tuned in, ready to anticipate Chloe’s needs, but also easy, content with it. It was how she’d felt earlier in the evening, sated by both men, dozing in between them. She wondered if Evan or Niall experienced a contentment like that. She’d like to give that to them, but sometimes it was difficult to know what would bring a Master ease.
“If you’d rather follow Niall, go be with him and Evan, that’s fine.” Chloe touched her arm. “I can tell you want to.”
“Niall said I should wait here.”
“I don’t think they mind if you disobey a little. That’s part of the fun, right?”
Perhaps in the human world. But Niall had particular reasons for wanting to keep her where he knew where she was. But there was no danger here, and Evan knew where she was at all times. Still, she waffled. She listened to the conversations, participating when invited to do so, but she had an increasing sense of needing to go to Evan, needing to go now.
When she rose at last, her mind made up, Brendan squeezed Chloe’s shoulder, rose as well. “I’ll go with you, make sure you find them.”
Safely hung in the air. It seemed absurd, since Tyler’s staff were everywhere, and they were in a rural environment well off the main roads, but her uneasy feeling was growing. Perhaps Brendan had picked up on it. She thought about speaking directly to Evan in her mind, but he was in a meeting. There was no concrete evidence that she should disrupt him.
“Thank you. I’m sure that’s unnecessary, but . . .”
“Not at all.” Exchanging a look with Chloe that showed the couple were in agreement on it, he offered his arm to Alanna. As he guided her away from their group, he put a warm hand over hers in the crook of his elbow. “I recognize when a Master has a specific concern with respect to his property. Niall had that concern.”
Niall had said he wasn’t her Master, but her mind wasn’t concerned with correcting semantics. As Brendan skirted past the pool house, and took the winding path by the river that led up to the west gardens, her heart started to beat more rapidly, her pulse rate increasing.
She stopped, scanning the darkness. “We need to go back toward the pool house, Brendan,” she said, low. “Please. Right now. But . . . don’t look like you’re hurrying.”
Nodding, he took a more secure hold of her hand, his other one moving to her waist, altering their direction but maintaining a casual pace, taking them toward where the swimmers were. “Who is it?” he murmured.
“I’m not sure, but . . . it’s best to be where more people are.”
“I’ll let Tyler know once we get—”
“No.” She caught hold of his arm, squeezed hard enough to earn a startled glance from those vivid hazel eyes. “It doesn’t concern Tyler or . . . any of you. I’m seeing shadows. I’m on some medication that makes me a little more . . . nervous. It’s nothing. I just need to find Evan.”
Sub or not, this male had a broad protective streak, just as Chloe had intimated. It was obvious from his expression he didn’t believe her. He was going to let Tyler know, putting all the human guests, including himself, at risk.
Evan? Master, forgive my interruption, but there is a vampire close by. It’s not Stephen. He’s detected your presence and is investigating. I don’t know how bold he will become.
Most vampires avoided human gatherings like this, but the very fact that a vampire not normally part of this territory had been detected had brought him closer. He also might call a few other vampires to help him investigate. Like Niall, she knew there were vampires far less civilized about Council directives on territory crossings.
Understood. Stay where you are. I’m coming.
She realized then Brendan had slipped away from her. He was a few yards away, talking to Tyler, who’d come out of the pool house. Damn it. Though the men’s backs were to her, Tyler’s posture changed to one she recognized very well, a male preparing to defend his territory and what was his within it. Why couldn’t she have acted less concerned, so as not to tip Brendan off? She was so rarely around humans uninitiated into this world, she had no skills in that regard.
Tyler might be a dangerous human to cross, but he’d have no chance against a vampire. Chloe would be widowed before she finished her honeymoon, Tyler torn apart. She imagined Marguerite standing over his body, that austere demeanor forever shattered. No matter her strength as a Mistress, the unique submission Marguerite gave Tyler suggested he was her foundation, the strength that helped her with everything else.
InhServ training had always been that for Alanna. Her fail-safe. She realized it was also what could save their lives now.
Master, the men are thinking of confronting the vampire. I will stall him, but they must be dissuaded or they will come to harm.
Alanna, no. Stay with Tyler and Brendan. That’s a command.
Please protect them, Master. I know I will be all right.