Read Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel Online
Authors: Joey W. Hill
“Do you want to come again, Celeste?”
She was shaking her head, though she meant yes. She dropped it back onto her shoulders, and he had her, his arm around her back. Two of his fingers slowly pushed into her then, and her lips parted as she swallowed air. Then a third. A fourth.
Her head came back down, and though she couldn’t see with the blindfold still on, she sensed his eyes warm on her face. Intent. “Just relax, darlin’. Totally relax. Trust me. You’re tight, but you want more.”
He did something and suddenly she was feeling fuller, stretched in a not unpleasant but a little unnerving way. His thumb brushed her clit and it was like electricity, making her jump, though his arm constricted further.
“Drop your head back again.”
He kissed his way down her throat, over the slope of her breasts, began to suckle a nipple as she shuddered in his arms. Somewhere along the way she hadn’t cared anymore about their surroundings, about the question of what she would or wouldn’t do in a more public venue. She wanted to do anything with him, trusting him no matter the circumstances. Though there were people here, the dense energy to the room created a heavy, dreamlike state like that which existed when they were alone. The stimulation that came with having witnesses to their pleasure was there, not as a distraction or a worry, but fueling all desires, a continuous build and reinforcement of the releases that were happening again and again, in myriad ways. The scent in the loft was ripe with body heat, sex, perspiration, the fragrances of aftershave, lotions and other oils released from friction, exertion, pleasurable stress.
Every time she thought about how much of his hand might be up inside her, her instinct was to tense up, but then he’d speak or touch or kiss her in a way that reminded her to trust him. Her head would fall back again, her body limp in his arms.
She heard a male voice near her, one that wasn’t Leland’s. She made a hazy attempt to figure out what was happening, but the obvious occurred to her. She didn’t have to. She could trust him.
His hand slowly withdrew, stroking her as he did. Then he removed his shirt, giving her the pleasure of his bare chest and abdomen against her. It was a further intimacy, a reminder of how close he was to her. A second later she understood it was intentional, based on what he planned for her next. His baritone wrapped around her.
“Noah’s Mistress has been so impressed by watching my sub, she sent him over to offer me a gift. He’s going to make you come, at my command, while you’re secure in my arms.”
She felt Noah’s long, clever fingers on her thighs, slow strokes, learning her. His palms were warm and callused, the roughness a shivering pleasure.
“Keep your knees wide open like before. You’re entirely vulnerable, Celeste, but also entirely protected, because I’ve got you. Right?”
She nodded. “Yes, Master.”
“Good girl.”
She bit back a tremulous sigh as Noah’s mouth traced a path over her mound, her upper thigh. His lips and tongue teased her moistness, learning her, tracing her. As she arched up, Leland made a reproving noise, using the strength of his arm to keep her still.
It was impossible to stay completely still, because Noah’s tongue was tracing her clit, down over her labia. A blink later, vibration accompanied that stimulation, and she remembered the tongue stud. “Oh…
oh
.”
A deep, tremulous sigh rocked through her as she shuddered in Leland’s arms, moving with the rhythm of Noah’s pleasuring of her. He and Leland both probably knew he and that vibration could rock her back into a climax in no time, short and intense, but Noah took his good old-fashioned time, working her clit up to a more engorged state, making her labia more slick, playing all around that area, nipping at her thighs, rubbing his face in her cunt so she knew he’d take Celeste’s scent back to his Mistress like a trophy.
She kept saying Leland’s name, and he’d answer with quiet sounds, the stroking of his fingers on her face, the kneading of her breast, a tracing of her abdomen. The darkness swirled around her like a cocoon as both men’s barest touch took her higher. Earlier in the day, they’d both been certain that she wouldn’t want another man to touch her, but this was different. It was as if Noah was simply an extension of Leland’s will, a gift he was giving them both to enhance her overwhelming desire to serve her Master.
“Leland…close…really close…”
“It looks like it. Your pussy is a deep-rose color, all wet like after a rain. I want you to come for me, Celeste. Noah’s going to take you down that slide for me. Right…now.”
She had no idea what the man did with the vibrating barbell, the tip of his tongue and the strength of that muscle, the heated moisture of it, but as soon as the words came out of Leland’s mouth, she was hurtling up that ramp as if everything had suddenly hit fast-forward. Her fingers clawed at Leland’s arm, lying in a steel band over her abdomen, below her bare breasts. “Oh…God…please…”
She wailed out her climax again, and Leland covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the cries, rocking her all the way to the end. She jerked and thrashed and did everything she could not to close her knees. Noah helped, holding them down with strong hands, intensifying her reaction so when she came back to ground she felt like confetti someone had shredded and tossed into the air.
“There we go. I have you. It’s all right.” Her Master’s whisper was like the wind carrying those pieces, turning them, holding them. She pressed her face into Leland’s chest as Noah brushed a kiss on her thigh.
“Would you like me to clean her up with my mouth, sir?”
“No. I’ll do that. Thank your Mistress for me, Noah.”
“It’s my pleasure to serve her pleasure.”
It she’d had any energy left, she would have summoned a laugh at the ironic humor in Noah’s voice. He had such a smooth, easy timbre, one that slid over a woman’s nerves like a man’s hand. He gave her another teasing kiss on the opposite thigh, a tiny nip, and then he’d withdrawn, leaving her in Leland’s full care again.
“There you are. Easy. Just rest now. You’re all done. It’s all good.”
She mumbled it against his shirt, so she wasn’t sure if he’d heard her, but he eased her back and slid the blindfold off. She wasn’t sure if she was as brave without the blindfold, but when she saw his expression, completely wrapped in her responses, his golden-brown eyes on her face, the rugged planes of his face suffused with desire for her, the words repeated themselves without any reservation at all.
“I can’t be all done if I haven’t serviced my Master.”
How far had she come, that she would say such a thing and mean it so fervently? She was shaky, but she managed to push against his hold enough to show that she wanted to sink to the floor between his knees. He held her an additional moment, though.
“You want to take my cock in your mouth here. In front of all these other Masters and Mistress?”
She swallowed. “I want them to know I’m yours.” His actions had told them that, but she instinctively knew doing that for him, in front of them, put the stamp on it. Plus, his erection was as hard and straining as it had been right before he’d taken her on the bed, and she wanted to give him release, pleasure.
“Could get messy. I’ve got a powerful need, darlin’.”
Her gaze sparked. “I’m not afraid of getting dirty. Sir.”
He flashed her a dangerous grin. Letting her slide to the floor to her knees, he opened his jeans, then stretched his powerful arms out along either side of the back of the couch, adjusting to a casual sprawl. In that sexy pose, he gave her an intent look that told her the man could genuinely fuck her to death and she’d just ask for more. Especially when he used that tone of command on her, as he did now.
“Get busy, sub.”
Many of the other couples in the room conducting sessions had concluded them, so she could feel their eyes on her, Masters, Mistress and subs, as she gripped his cock, put her mouth on him and began to slide down, down. That was the point. To show him she wasn’t afraid to be seen as his, serving him as a submissive should serve her Master. Completely unafraid, trusting him and the environment, because he’d never put her in a situation that didn’t feel right and true. At its core, it was still about just the two of them, even if she were doing this in the middle of a football stadium.
The drive between them could be urgent, but taking a page out of her Master’s own book, she took her time now, savoring the taste of him, the way the meaty head of his cock stretched her mouth, the salty taste of the pre-come in the slit. When she worked her way down the shaft, she took as much of him as she could, played her tongue over every pulsing vein, every velvety inch of his organ. His balls convulsed when she slipped her hand under them inside his jeans, cradling their weight in her palm. She rubbed them, slow, kneading strokes as she sucked him, went down, came back up. It was like she was at one of those country bars he liked, straddling a mechanical bull, rocking with sensual intent, nothing in the world more important to her than just giving him the same mind-blowing experience he’d given her.
“Look at me when you’re doing that, darlin’. You know I love seeing your eyes on me when your mouth is full of my cock.”
Amazing, given the multiple orgasms she’d had, but his husky command sent tingles through her belly. She lifted her lashes, held his gaze as she continued to work him in her mouth, curl her hand over his base, squeeze and fondle. He reached out, cupped the side of her face in rough fingers. That, and the fact his hips were now twitching, beginning to add his own force to her movements, thrusting his cock into her mouth, said she was on the right track.
He bit back a growl as his fingers traced her lips, stretched over him. “Yeah, that’s it. Going to fuck that pretty mouth all night long. Next time you mouth off to me, that’s what I’ll be thinking about. How putting my cock in there works better for both of us. Doesn’t it, darlin’?”
He chuckled, gave her hair a sharp tug as she nipped him. “Yeah, there’s my brat.”
Her eyes glowing, she went back to playing and sucking, squeezing and fondling. His fingers locked over her shoulder, and now he started to push into her in earnest. Mindful of his order, she kept her eyes on him all the way until the end, because it was obvious how much harder it got him, seeing her staring up at him like that, his sub serving him on her knees. She could feel the eyes of others on her still, and wondered how many other subs in this room would be serving their Masters the same way shortly, the seed planted in minds on both sides.
His fingers flexed, his cock pulsed and jerked in her mouth, and he started to come. She finally closed her eyes at that first jet, having to turn all her focus toward hanging on, milking the last bit out of him, giving him full satisfaction. She swallowed, choked, swallowed again, kept pumping her head up and down, some of his seed escaping and sliding over her fingers. She didn’t stop, kept going until the grip of his fingers told her he was coming down, that she needed to ease up because his cockhead was getting more sensitive. She was tempted to keep teasing him, but she wasn’t sure if she could handle another punishment, pleasurable as Leland could make it. She’d save that for another time.
Slowly, she slid off of him, licking the sides of his still hard shaft, getting every salty drop of him on her tongue. She sucked on his ridged head, nipped and then licked her fingers while he watched her with a glow in his eyes.
“Come here.” He tucked himself back in and zipped the jeans but left them unbuttoned, apparently too impatient for what he wanted next to wait for that. He drew her back up onto his lap and sealed his mouth over hers in another kiss that promised an endless cycle of wanting between them, no end in sight. She curled her arms around him, held on, hummed her agreement in his mouth, and then let out a little jerk of reaction as he slid his hand between her thighs, putting his fingers back inside her, a slow invasion, cupping her on the outside with the other fingers. “Hold your breasts in both your hands. Tilt them up toward me.”
She did, and gasped as he started suckling, holding her with one arm around her back. “It’s never enough,” he said, a fervent oath he’d uttered before, but one she’d never tire of hearing. Nor could she do anything but agree, because her body started to go up that incline again. She couldn’t refuse his demand, even if she gave him her last breath and last drop of energy.
§
He pretty damn well took both of those. A long time later, Celeste was back in his arms again, cradled in his lap, in a near comatose state. She suspected it was close to dawn or just past that time. He’d wrapped her in a blanket but hadn’t wanted her dressed. After stroking and exploring her thoroughly beneath it as part of her aftercare, his hand had come to rest over her pussy, his thumb playing over her labia, the other fingers in a loose curl resting on her clit and mound. A not-so-restful reminder of his promise earlier in the night, that he’d own all of her by the end of it, could touch her however, whenever he wished.
She wasn’t in the mood to argue, so she’d just let him have that one. For now. Her lips curved sleepily as he kissed her forehead.
“Bastard,” she muttered. “You made me thank you for this. Bet you won’t let me live that down.”
He chuckled. “You’re right about that, darlin’. But whenever it bothers you, I’ll make sure you want to thank me again.”
She gave a half snort at that, but had no energy to do anything else.
Sessions were all done throughout the room, submissives in various stages of aftercare or fully recovered. Those that had been naked now wore light robes or heavier terry cloth ones if they were chilled. The group was in a loose circle spread out over couches and chairs that had been drawn closer to this end of the room. Marcie and Ben alone remained in a private world on the other side, behind the sheer panels of the canopy bed. They were stretched out under the covers, Marcie naked in Ben’s arms, her cheek pillowed on his bare chest. It appeared the wedded couple had given themselves to sleep.
Dana was in Peter’s arms on one end of a couch, half-asleep, while Jon and Rachel were in a mirrored pose at the opposite end. Peter had his head back on the headrest, the beer in his free hand propped on the armrest as he studied the ceiling, digesting whatever Jon was saying to him. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but there was a light smile on the face of Dana’s Master.