He opened it, drew her inside, and she honest-to-God nearly melted to his feet.
This was because there were three gladiators in there—Ami, as well as the one who had won in the pit and then gone to his partner and force-fed him his cock, and that partner who’d been forced to suck cock.
The two partners were wearing locked leather shorts that had a zipped-up-the-sides panel at the front covering their packages that could be opened to free their cocks, this locked to the belt at the waistband. The shorts also had a zip between the legs that was locked closed at the back waistband that could be opened for access to other parts.
Currently, they were all closed in tight.
But it was Ami she couldn’t take her eyes from as Stellan led her into the room.
He was fully naked.
And with a complicated strapping of black rope around his waist and over his shoulders, he was somewhat suspended from the ceiling with his wrists tied behind his neck, the ropes going down his back, along his waist, and fed through the eye of the anal hook that was inserted up his ass.
His feet were on the floor.
But barely.
His back was to the room so they had the full view.
And she didn’t take her eyes off that superlative view even as she felt Stellan arrange her in his lap as he sat them both.
“I take it you’re enjoying your reward,” he murmured amusedly.
Slowly, she turned her eyes from the spectacle before her and looked to Stellan.
They were cocooned in the wide seat in what could only be described as a modern throne. It was upholstered in blue velvet almost the exact color of his eyes. A broad, curved hood rose gracefully out at the sides and up high over their heads.
The king was in attendance, and she was his slave queen, settled in to watch their servants perform on command.
Unable to hold it back, she shivered full body in his hold.
“You’re enjoying it,” he whispered, his lips forming a sexy, satisfied smile.
She raised her hand to the side of his neck, curled her fingers in and lifted up so her lips were at his ear.
“Ami,” was all she said quietly.
“Is all in, but ungagged and has a safe word,” he replied in her tone.
She pulled away, looked him in the eyes, and nodded.
He curled her into a closer hold in his arms, inclined his head toward the room, and when she turned hers at his unspoken command, he ordered, “Position him to face us and one of you drop to your knees and take his cock.”
The partners moved; one turned Ami on his hook so he was no longer back to them, the other one fell to his knees, and the minute he had Ami’s engorged cock within range, he grabbed onto it with his hand and took it deep in his mouth.
Ami let out a low groan.
Lord, a man blowing a man was almost as fabulous as a man fucking a man.
But a man blowing a restrained warrior that was suspended on an anal hook was sublime.
Sixx squirmed in Stellan’s lap, eyes riveted to the bobbing head of the man on his knees.
“Not enough, darling?” Stellan asked.
This wasn’t a reward.
It was more torture.
She lifted her gaze to Ami’s face.
His eyes were locked to her, his face flushed, the muscles in his neck straining, his gaze a scorch of heat.
Totally in the zone.
Performing for her.
His Mistress had entered the room as a slave, and he still gave it up for her.
She felt her face soften.
Then she heard Stellan bark, “Take his face.”
Ami immediately started thrusting so hard, the guy on his knees had to lift his hands to Ami’s hips to hold on and not fall back.
“Release the panel and the zip. Rosebud,” Stellan ordered.
The free man moved immediately. Crouching beside his partner, he unlocked the locks, unzipped the back down through his legs as well as the panels at the front. Sixx couldn’t see the latter, but she did hear his thankful grunt, so she suspected his cock was hard and releasing it from its confines was a relief.
The free sub then moved to one of Stellan’s cabinets, opened it, selected a rosebud plug, lubed it, and moved back to the players.
Situating himself to the side so he didn’t obstruct the view, Sixx watched and listened as another, deeper grunt muffled by thrusting cock sounded in the room as he plugged his partner’s ass.
A wave of wet hit between her legs.
“My queen can’t see,” Stellan called.
The man on his knees tipped his ass so she had a better view.
Okay, plugged ass getting fucked in his face by a restrained warrior …
Now that was sublime.
So enthralled, she had no idea she let out a purring mew.
And then it happened.
What she should have known would happen simply because Stellan was Stellan.
But she definitely should have known it would happen after he mentioned her giving herself to Aryas.
And now, here was Ami performing how he was performing.
Stellan had a number of messages to send.
And he was sending them.
Thus they were up, Sixx in Stellan’s arms.
Then he turned around, sitting her back in the chair but suspended over it, her legs splayed wide to the sides, his eyes locked on her, his mouth issuing commands.
“Unhook him. Fuck his ass. Come inside. Ami, shoot your cum down his throat. My queen can listen.”
But he actually had no intention of her listening.
Because Stellan drew his waistband back down over his big, thick, hard cock.
Curving it under his balls, he moved into her, whispered, “At your pleasure,” and slammed inside her.
Taking him brutally, ready for it, gagging for it, so loving every inch that invaded her, Sixx’s heels dug into the sides of the chair. Her back arching, her pussy rocked into his hips, she came immediately, staggeringly, all her molecules scattering. Her head pressed back into blue velvet as her body lurched violently in the chair from her orgasm and from taking her Master’s cock.
For leverage, Stellan had his hands planted in the arms of the chair close to the back, the drives of his body keeping hers from exploding off her perch, but the world had fallen out from underneath her.
She had to find purchase, and she did that on him, throwing her arms around his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh, crying out again and again and again, rolling her hips out to meet his thrusts also again and again and again, her first staggering orgasm shifting into another one, this one dazzling.
“Stellan.” His name came as a plea, a brand, a claim, a demand, an appeal, a wish … the realization of a dream.
This was her dream.
Spread for him.
Offered to him.
Serving him.
Taking her fucking from him.
Nothing but his.
He owned her.
But he could only do that because she owned him.
“Fuck,” Stellan groaned.
She shifted her hands so she could curl her nails into the back of his neck, and her eyes focused on his.
“Fuck me. Keep fucking me,” she commanded breathily, still climaxing, lost to it, destroyed by it.
Ruined.
He pounded into her, their eyes locked, a snarl curling up his throat and lacerating the air.
Yes.
He kissed her.
His tongue was a lifeline. The noises he drove down her throat sustenance. She clutched him with her pussy, her fingers raking up, gripping his hair. She took her branding, her claiming, the demands of her Master, but there was no plea, no appeal …
He was staking his claim of her.
For the gladiators.
For Ami.
For Stellan.
For Sixx.
He ended the kiss but left his mouth at hers, their breaths clashing.
She vaguely heard the strident chorus of manly grunts in the room, pierced by her feminine gasps and cries; nothing existed for her but taking her fucking from her Master, her marking, her claiming, and giving him everything.
She succeeded and climaxed again when she watched Stellan’s head jerk back, the veins in his neck pop out and felt his thrusts turn savage as he came inside her, and she found a new struggle, orgasming at the same time, forcing herself to watch him do the same.