The Greatest Risk (Honey #3)

His Mistress had commanded a man’s hand to work him.

And he totally got off on it like it was her hand that was on him.

Because, in essence, it was her hand on him.

Jennifer came with the towel and oil.

“Give the oil to Tip,” Sixx told her. “Spread the towel under Ami.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she murmured, carried out her instructions, and Sixx looked to Tip.

“Oil your hands and then reach around the side and jack him.”

Tip nodded and obeyed.

That was all for her.

Now something for Ami.

“Jennifer, to the front, Ami, as you please,” she said.

Jennifer got on her knees in front of Ami and then her head fell back almost instantly when he shoved his face between her legs.

Strong body and apparently that included his tongue.

Sixx drank sangria and did what any good Domme would do.

What Ami wanted her to do.

In this instance, she got off on watching.

When things progressed, and Ami’s powerful thigh muscles were straining, his sculpted ass clenching, he was no longer eating out pussy because he couldn’t, his breaths audibly heavy, she whispered, “Drive two fingers inside him, Tip. Hard and fast.”

Tip did as told, and Ami’s head shot back, his back arching.

God, better.

“Finger fuck him, keep jacking him, and make him come,” she ordered, her voice husky.

“Yes, Mistress,” Tip murmured.

“Take as much as you can, Ami, then blow for me.”

“As you wish…” he puffed, “Mistress.”

He took a lot.

And he had absolutely not lied.

He totally got off on giving her whatever she wanted.

“Mistress,” he groaned.

“Blow, Ami,” she allowed on a gentle whisper.

He strained back, and with a loud grunt, he shot his cum on the towel under him.

Sixx didn’t bother stopping her legs from rubbing against each other or beating back the delicate, unhurried, rippling climax that whispered up her cunt and through her lips as she watched him go.

Ami had earned that from her.

So she gave it to him.

“Milk him, Tip, and keep fucking him, get in there, Jennifer, and squeeze his balls,” Sixx ordered.

Jennifer moved in. Tip kept at him. And Ami thrust his cock into Tip’s hand, his ass moving through the air, making it hard for both of them to hold on, as his big body shuddered, he groaned and kept erupting.

Oh yes.

She needed to find someone worthy of this warrior.

When the convulsing turned to trembles, immediately she said, “Release him and step away. Back to your lounge. This time, Jennifer, you holding Tip’s cockhead in your mouth. Take the towel away before you go.”

They murmured their acquiescence, Tip bunching up the towel covered in the flatteringly large offering of Ami’s cum and whisking it away before they went.

Ami held position, breathing hard, head lowered, body still slightly quivering.

It was a beautiful sight.

And just like that, Stellan juxtaposed over the glorious spectacle of Ami, and that particular vision was so strong, Sixx had to shake her head to get rid of it.

“You’ve served me well,” she said gently, her hand itching to touch him, soothe him, her body poised to move to him, press into him, coddle him.

She’d never wanted to do that with any sub, and she knew it was him she wanted to do that to because he was hers through Stellan.

So he was part of Stellan.

Like Tip’s hand had been a part of her.

“I’m glad, Mistress.”

“Look at me, Ami,” she urged.

His head turned to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

A flare burned through his eyes as he understood what she was saying to him, pleased at what he’d given to her.

No.

What they’d shared.

She was highly sought after at the Honey.

But she’d never had a moment like this with a sub in her life.

“My pleasure,” he whispered back.

“Sixx,” she said. “For now and anytime we’re not in a scene, for you, I’m Sixx.”

She’d never given that to a sub either.

“Sixx,” he murmured, lips twitching.

Totally had to find this guy a good one.

“You can get up and take off your belt and cage, warrior,” she said. “Get in the pool, relax, recuperate. When you’re ready, you get to do whatever you want to Jennifer, and you can make Tip do whatever you want too. Though be sure I’m around, I want to watch.”

“Gratitude, Mistress.”

She gave him a small smile that his eyes honed in on, keen and hungry.

“No, gladiator, gratitude to you,” she said in a soft voice that didn’t even sound like it came from her because she’d never heard it like that. “Now go.”

He nodded, got up, unbuckled his belt, and let it fall to the deck. Then he went to the pool. Listing to the side, he fell into a hand at its edge before he swung his legs out from under him to slide into the pool in a way that only someone with immense upper body strength could do.

It was an awesome show.

But after his bald head disappeared under the water, her attention went directly to Stellan.

He was still with Victor.

But his eyes behind those aviators, she knew, were locked on her.

And his lips were turned up in a self-satisfied smile that told her he was pleased he’d given her a toy she enjoyed playing with.

Suddenly, she wanted to rush across the deck and throw herself into his arms to express her gratitude.

She wanted to do the same to beg him to take her back upstairs and finish what he started.

And she wanted to do the same to burrow into him and whisper in his ear that Ami was fantastic, Tip and Jennifer lovely, but all she wanted was him.

These thoughts tripped to a halt when her view of Stellan was blocked.

She looked up to see the sun playing on the profuse, glistening, brunette curls of the petite Evangeline Brooks and the deep, shining, auburn waves of the long and lithe Amélie Strand as the mismatched duo gracefully sank in unison, side by side, hip-to-hip, a two-woman, Dominatrix Busby Berkeley show coming to rest on the lounge right in front of her.

“Chérie,” Amélie started, “would you kindly share what on earth is going on?”

“What Leigh is saying,” Evangeline put in the second Amélie stopped speaking, “is first, thank you for that awesome show. And second, what the hell is happening with you and Stellan?”

“I—” Sixx began.

“I’d heard you were with him at the pit,” Leigh stated. “And by with him it was reported you were with him, but I didn’t believe it.”

“You know there’s a gladiator pit in Phoenix?” Sixx asked, mildly peeved she hadn’t shared that intel.

Then again, Sixx hadn’t exactly been available for very many girlie chats since she came back, what with brooding about Stellan and putting on shows to get his attention taking all of her time.

“Of course,” Leigh answered. “Aryas and I invested with Stellan.” She turned her head to Evangeline. “And as I’ve been telling you, Leenie, you really need to come. It’s magnificent.”

“Does Olly go with you?” Evangeline asked, openly intrigued by this idea just as it was clear Branch would not be.

Leigh shook her head. “Felicia, Mira or Romy. It’s not Olly’s thing.”

Sixx looked across the pool to where Olly was sitting (now, he was in board shorts, all big-boy-next-door with a damn fine kink). He was at the edge of the pool—calves in the water, a bottle of beer in his hand, talking to Penn and Shane, who were in the pool.

“Your stallion not playing today?” Sixx queried.

“He’s never been to a private party,” Leigh explained, shocking Sixx because the guy wasn’t twenty-one, and the way he was with Amélie, she thought he’d had to have been in the life for a while. “He wanted to get the lay of the land. I have a feeling after watching your recent demonstration he’ll get into the swing of things the next fête Stellan throws.”

Sixx wouldn’t doubt that. She didn’t watch them anymore, but when she had, she’d noted that Olly was a huge showoff.