Peter and Jon stopped, holding them still, and Jon dropped a kiss on Rachel’s shoulder. “Take a moment to breathe, sweet girl,” he murmured. “Just breathe.”
Once again, she had to admire the men’s ability to coordinate. They had to have made deals with the devil, because no mortal male had this kind of control. Or such synchronicity was as much a part of the charge for them as the sex itself, so they’d dedicated themselves to perfecting it for their own pleasure.
They teased one another unmercifully, but they were one of the most closely-knit group of men she’d ever met. Sometimes they almost didn’t seem to need to communicate in words; they picked up on what each wanted or needed, like a thought that continued in each brain, a thread of connection.
“Like a telepathic wolf pack,” Cass had observed once. Rachel didn’t disagree.
But the men’s bond with one another was intricately tied to the way they shared and protected the women they loved, with an all-encompassing passion and ferocity. It was as much a part of it as the rest.
Tonight only made her more sure of it, though an unexpected spurt of humor shot through her, muddled in the lust, as she remembered how the topic had been addressed on one of their girls’ nights.
“They don’t share women as an entire group unless she’s the one that will belong to one of them forever,” Dana said, when Cass had wondered about it. “Peter told me that.”
“Yeah, but how did that come about?” Cass queried.
“I’m sure it was an executive meeting. Janet has it recorded in the minutes somewhere,” Savannah offered, an amused sparkle in her blue eyes. “Peter proposed that there be a protocol whenever a member of the team chooses his forever sub. Ben seconded, and there was a brief discussion, after which it was agreed that the chosen woman should have at least one over-the-top sexual encounter with all five of them, to make it official. And then, forever after, said woman would be kept insanely safe from everything. Hurricanes to hangnails. The motion passed unanimously before the lunch break.”
Then humor was overwhelmed by pure sensation as Jon retreated, thrust. Gripped her hips, pressed his mouth between her shoulder blades. Peter tightened his grip, pulling on her scalp in a demanding way that made her lose her train of thought. Her sanity.
But she couldn’t climax until they went, so she had to figure out a way to hold back. Desperately looking for something to get her body’s spiral of reaction under control, she took her gaze away from Peter and Dana, because that certainly wouldn’t help. Instead, she let her fevered gaze slide over the room, the plants, the fountain, the bank of windows through which she could see the Mississippi.
It didn’t help. This was a room that emanated the power and sexual mastery of the men who met here. Savannah and Cass had both had their defining moments with the men in these rooms. Jon had even implied that tonight was happening because she and Dana had not had that experience. Because their circumstances, how they’d come into the inner circle, had been a little different. Savannah and Cass had been on the same playing field, Savannah the CEO of Tennyson Industries, and Cass an extraordinary corporate negotiator.
With Dana being a decorated soldier, and now training to be a minister, Rachel had felt like the plain Jane of the group at first. But that feeling was part of the same left behind debris that had nearly made her turn away from Jon, reject all he’d been offering her. He’d refused to let her.
She was so thankful for that, that sometimes she forgot that she was here today as much because of her own courage, and the will that Jon had helped her rediscover and build back up. “You can’t build something out of nothing, Rachel,” he’d told her, more than once. “Yes, I helped, maybe opened that door, but the treasure inside you was always there. I fell in love with you because of what shines out from your heart and soul.”
The emotional surge was oddly what helped her hold back. She gripped his hand at her hip, her head dropping as she pressed it between Dana’s shoulders. “I love you,” she said. “All of you.”
Dana’s hand found hers, where it was banded around Dana’s waist. The woman turned her head, Peter’s grip loosening so Rachel brush her cheek with her own. “Same goes,” Dana said softly. And she kissed a tear on Rachel’s face. “You’re crying and smiling at the same time. That’s the best kind of cry.”
Jon turned her face to him with an inexorable hand, studying her expression. Whatever he saw there eased his concerns about Dana’s pronouncement about her tears, and he kissed her mouth, the shift of his body moving him inside her, so she made a soft noise against his mouth. “With me, sweet girl?” he asked huskily.
It was a different version of what Peter had asked Dana, and Rachel understood it. Another thing they did. They never let their submissives get isolated in their own heads, always maintaining that heart, mind and soul connection above everything else, no matter the physical intensity of the session.
“Thank the Goddess, yes,” she said. Her body quivered at his look. “I want to come for you, Master,” she added, a break in her voice. “But I want your permission.”
The moment they started moving, she was going to lose the battle. She couldn’t resist what she felt for him, body or soul.
His lips curved, the look in his dark blue eyes caressing her, inside and out. He didn’t give her an answer, not right away. Instead, he eased her back down over Dana and resumed his movement inside her, pulling a cry from her with the very next stroke. She clutched Dana’s shoulder and felt the other woman shudder when Jon’s movements pushed the strap-on deeper inside her again. She made her own shriek when Peter apparently added to that, thrusting deeper into his sub and wife.
Jon pushed Rachel more firmly against Dana’s back so her breasts were pressed there, her hips working against Dana’s ass. When Rachel dropped her head fully to Dana’s nape, she let out a whispering sigh as Peter wrapped a big hand in her hair again, holding her pinned against Dana as effectively as Dana’s tether had held her head down when Rachel tied it to her leg. His other hand was at Dana’s hip, making her move how he wished. Down on his cock, back against the strap-on, in rhythm with Jon’s thrusts into Rachel. Her cunt convulsed on his length, and her cries grew more desperate.
“Master…please…”