She decided to ignore the throb in her clit and instead simply sigh.
A low noise floated up from the floor, and they both looked that way.
Now Ami appeared to be in real pain, which wasn’t a surprise, considering his huge dick was hard as a rock and trapped behind laces that had grown intensely confining.
But Tip was in a serious condition because he was liking what he was getting but he knew it couldn’t culminate.
“Maybe it’s time for her to trade off,” Stellan suggested.
“Not quite, she hasn’t done his balls,” Sixx replied.
Tip groaned.
Sixx smiled.
“See to that,” Stellan ordered Jennifer.
Sixx stopped smiling and snapped her eyes to Stellan.
“I thought you didn’t want to hurry things,” Sixx noted.
Stellan looked back to her. “Darling, Margarita makes exceptional sparkling sangria. And I’m dry. Ami’s already hard. He can fuck her face by the pool. We’ve got guests that are right now guests without hosts.”
She turned to Ami. “How does that sound, my gladiator?”
“Whatever you wish, my Mistress,” he bit out.
“You’ll have to stay trussed on the way to the pool,” she warned.
“As I said, as you wish, Mistress,” he returned.
“Cage Tip, Jennifer, and let’s go,” Sixx ordered.
She stopped laving Tip’s balls, he let out a relieved breath, and she said, “Okay, Mistress,” then sat back but reached for his cage.
Tip’s thighs were trembling.
She’d pushed him to fighting the thrust.
Lovely.
“How are you, Tip?” Sixx asked.
“Ready for anything, Mistress Sixx,” Tip answered roughly.
“Good answer,” she murmured.
“Are we done?” Stellan asked impatiently.
She looked up at him. “You gave me these toys, Stellan. Did you not expect me to play with them?”
“Not in a guest room away from the sangria,” he returned.
She sighed again.
He grinned again.
“You wet?” he asked.
Just the question made her wetter.
“Yes,” she gritted.
“From this,” he jerked his head to what was on the floor, “or me bending you over my bed?”
A noise came from Ami.
Indication Ami had a lock on visualization.
And a hard-on for his unattainable Mistress.
And there it was.
Wetter.
“You were mentioning sangria?” she prompted.
Stellan chuckled.
Sixx looked at the feast on the floor.
Tip was caged, except, well, his tip.
“Right, on your feet. Let’s go,” she ordered.
They got up.
Stellan moved his hand from her ass so he could hold her about the waist.
Thus he guided her out of the room, down the hall, down the stairs and into his massive open-plan kitchen/dining room/family room that spanned the back of the house, with its multiple sets of arched French doors beyond which was a pool, their friends and decadence.
Not a single thing she needed.
No.
Only everything she could ever have wanted.
five
Vital Understanding
SIXX
Sixx reclined on her hip atop a double-wide patio lounge beside Stellan’s fabulous pool, torso propped up on her arm resting on the thick white pad on the tilted back of the lounge.
She had a refreshing glass of chilled, delicious sangria in her hand that tasted of champagne and peaches, her sunglasses over her eyes, and a slab of muscled meat on display on his back in front of her.
She was in retreat.
And she was this in an effort to regroup.
This was because, half an hour before, Stellan had led her out to the pool deck and taken her around, attached to his side, so she could greet his guests, making a point she was there not as Mistress Sixx, friend and fellow believer in the right to partake of your kink.
But instead she was there …
With him.
Obviously, this caused a ripple of intrigued surprise and in some cases (these cases being the people she was closest to, Amélie and Evangeline) out-and-out shock.
Stellan was as smooth as ever, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary.
Sixx went along with the game.
But the instant she could, she found her oasis, removed from the rest in this remote and unoccupied corner of Stellan’s deck, close to the pool house. She walked the sangria Stellan poured for her there, set Jennifer lying on her back in a lounge close to the one Sixx settled in, with Tip on his stomach between her legs, ordered to keep his face in her crotch and nothing more.
Ami, she’d commanded to lay on his back in front of her. He was on a slant, as she was curved into him, but not touching him, his head close to her shins, his big cock released from the laces she’d ordered him to pull out, and he was lazily stroking it at her command.
She was not watching him.
Her eyes through her shades were all the way across the vast pool where Stellan was standing, now wearing his own sunglasses, aviator ones with blue lenses and gold trim, which of course looked ridiculously attractive on him.
Stellan’s friend and fellow Dom, Victor, was standing with him, wearing a pair of loose swim trunks, his furred chest bare, his slightly pouching belly working for him considering the breadth of his shoulders, the bulge of his pecs, and the command of his sub, who was on her hip on a folded towel at his feet like Jennifer had been upstairs.
Clearly Victor’s signature.
Sixx didn’t know Victor very well. He’d come to the club after she’d left. He seemed okay enough and was popular with the female subs.
He was also, she’d heard, like Stellan (but perhaps not as much)—ludicrously wealthy.
But seeing him standing there beside Stellan, tall and built as he was, he seemed … dull. Almost a nonentity.
Because Stellan was matchless. He outshone everything around him. Even just wearing jeans and a linen shirt (and those freaking aviator glasses).
Including outshining her.
Like he knew she needed it, the same as he’d done from Tuesday night to that day, Stellan was where he was, away from her, giving her space.
As were the others.
A benefit to having friends who were in the life. They were far more aware of, in tune with and sensitive to things than people who were not.
Sixx refused to take in the opulence of Stellan’s pool area, what that all meant along with all the rest, and instead looked down at Ami.
Another opulence.
From Stellan.
“Tell me, Ami,” she murmured, “you’ve put on sunscreen, yes?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he rumbled, eyes facing the sky, hand still moving on his cock.
“Do you know if the others have done the same?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “And they have.”
This was good, but if they got into the thick of things, she’d have to remember to give them a break to reapply.
“Do you need sunglasses?” she went on.
“No, Mistress. Thank you. I’m good.”
“All right,” she muttered, her gaze gliding to his slow manipulation of his dick and her mind wondering what it would feel like, what it would look like, to have Stellan laid out before her like that.
Too good by half, she was sure. She knew this because it was that, even just in her head.
Not fair to Ami.
She couldn’t touch him, but she needed to focus on him.
“We need to speak, you and me,” she said quietly. “And when I ask what I’m going to ask, I want you to be honest when you answer.”
“Of course,” he replied.
“When you battle for me, I need to know where you are at the end. In other words, the other night you offered to provide me with your opponent’s cum. Is that something you want to give to me?”
“If it’s something you want.”
The standard submissive reply.
She leaned slightly toward him, but not too close. When she’d looked, Stellan hadn’t been watching her.
But she knew he would find times to turn his attention to her, and she further knew he’d just simply sense if she’d broken his rule.
So she held herself in check.
Why?
She had no idea.
Except for the fact that she’d been claimed at the side of a gladiator pit, and she could think on it all she wanted. Hours. Days. Weeks. Years.