Jon made her wait and struggle, just as Peter did Dana, until Rachel thought they’d all go up in flames. Perspiration made them slide against one another with even more erotic friction.
“Now,” Jon whispered to her, and Rachel immediately obeyed, her body jerking. The rough, erratic thrusts only seemed to goad Dana to greater heights, for apparently Peter had given her the same go-ahead. She and Dana were rocking together on a wild ride of release. They were all locked together; her body caught beneath Jon’s, his cock inside her, her joined to Dana with the strap-on, Peter’s unrelenting grip on her hair, his body lodged inside Dana. The joinings kept her movements intense yet controlled, magnifying the sensations. She wondered if Dana felt the same, for she was even more restricted by Jon and Rachel’s combined weight and the demands of her own Master.
Then any other random thoughts disappeared, for Jon released inside her. From the burst of additional power in his movements, Peter obviously did the same with Dana. The jet of seed inside Rachel pushed her even higher. Her and Dana’s screams likely vibrated the glass. Despite the excellent soundproofing between offices, Rachel knew the other men must be hearing them, all while sipping their drinks in Matt’s office. It added a whole other level to her response, and as she went over one more pinnacle, she wasn’t sure if she could go any higher without being dizzy.
She did get dizzy before the intensity at last started to subside. As she came down, she was clinging to Jon’s forearm, for he had his arm wrapped around her waist, his mouth at her shoulder as Peter released her hair.
It was like listening to one giant heartbeat slowly come down in pace, then breaking into four different rhythms, a soothing pattern that helped them hold onto reality as much as each other.
It was a while before anyone had the ability to speak or move, but at length, when his breath caught, Jon was the first. He slid his arm across Rachel’s chest, his other at her waist, and slowly eased her out of Dana’s body.
With his clever fingers he released the buckles so the strap-on fell away. He placed it on the mat. As Rachel was lifted and moved, Peter brought Dana fully down upon him, wrapping both large arms around her graceful back, one hand spreading out over her small, tight backside as she nestled her head into his shoulder and throat.
Jon lifted Rachel in his arms. How many times had he done that tonight? It didn’t matter; it would never be enough. The way he did it so effortlessly, she never tired of it. He took a seat in one of the chairs, curling her up in his embrace. Also something he’d done several times tonight. Also something she loved. Being in his arms, spent and quiet. Loving and loved.
He’d refastened his jeans so her bare backside nestled into denim instead of a scratchy zipper. He was good at remembering things like that. He was murmuring to her, no real words. Just calming reassurances. Aftercare.
“Pizza,” Peter said abruptly, perhaps fifteen minutes later. Caught in a half doze, Rachel angled her face to see he was still holding Dana, nuzzling her hair, but he dropped his head back enough to toss them a grin. “I need pizza. Loaded with lots of meat, so we’ll have to get one with your falafel and veggies or whatever the hell you put on it.”
“I’m sitting here with far too good a view of your balls,” Jon said. “I’m not sure I have an appetite.”
“You wouldn’t be seeing my balls if you weren’t looking at my sub’s ass. Which always gives me a hell of an appetite. Though not for pizza.” Peter murmured to Dana and she lifted herself up on unsteady arms, so he could tuck himself back in and refasten his jeans. He sat up, clasping his arms around her, and scooted to the end of the table, his long legs easily finding their way to an upright position on the carpet. Holding her against him, her arms and legs wrapped around him, Peter found a chair a few feet from them.
As he sat down, he shifted Dana into a similar cradling position as Jon’s grip on Rachel. Peter rolled his chair to the table and picked up his open, unfinished beer. Taking a swig, he offered a sip to Dana, holding the bottle for her. “We’ll get you some water in a few minutes, since that won’t hydrate you,” he told her.
She nodded and dropped her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes.
“I can—” Rachel started to say, but Jon made a quelling noise and stroked the side of her throat.
“You do nothing right now but what I tell you. You’ve taken good care of us. Now we’re taking care of the two of you.”
In truth, that was probably a good idea. Even saying those two words had been an effort. Post-subspace haze was a contented, lovely place to float, so she just listened to the men’s voices as they discussed which pizza place should do the delivery. She was vaguely aware of the door opening and the others returning. She didn’t know if the climactic shrieking had given them a sense of when things were concluded, but she’d already seen just how well the men picked up cues from one another during multiple partner sex; figuring out when they should come back into a room for pizza was a piece of cake.
“I’m thinking Jon and Peter had the ultimate winning hands tonight,” Ben said, rocking back in his chair and tossing a balled-up napkin in Lucas’s direction. Lucas caught it and two-pointed it into the nearby trash. “After pizza,” the lawyer added, “I’m headed out to Progeny to enjoy a sub or four while you married folk head home to your cable and slippers. Unless anyone wants to join me.”
Though he spoke casually, teasing them, something about his tone struck Rachel’s empathic radar. Gazing at him through half-closed eyes, she realized for the first time what it must feel like, to be the sole member of this pack without a committed submissive. Ben didn’t show a lot of emotion about things like that, but she noticed she wasn’t the only one who had concerns about it. Peter and Lucas had exchanged a look that was faintly troubled; the look of friends who weren’t yet sure the best course to help another friend who might be hurting—or lonely.
For now, they let it pass, but she suspected the subject would be visited again. They’d watch out for him. It comforted her on Ben’s behalf. She knew what it was to be alone, to think she was going to reach the end of her life never once having the experience of being loved wholly, romantically, by another soul.
She suspected Ben would assert he wasn’t looking for that because he wasn’t wired that way, but she knew everyone was wired that way. She made a mental note to suggest to Jon that they do another guys’ night soon, with just the guys. Not that she had minded being part of this particular guys’ night.
“Yeah, M*A*S*H reruns,” Peter said with a grin. “I’m sure that’s exactly what Lucas and Matt have in mind to do with Cass and Savannah. Until they fall asleep on the couch in flannel PJs. What color are yours, Lucas?”