His palm cupped her bottom lovingly, squeezing and fondling the plump cheek. His fingertip feathered over the cleft and burrowed deeper until he brushed across the tight seam of her ass.
She stiffened and his coaxing words spilled over her.
“Relax, Serena,” he crooned. “I’m going to put the plug back in.”
She forced herself to go limp, lulled by the pleasure of his touch. He was patient, stroking and petting her. Each brush of his fingers across her entrance added more lubricant until her body was awash with fiery need.
A single finger breeched the tight opening, and she moaned softly. There was no pain, just an edgy need that left her quivering against his hand.
“Get to your knees,” he directed. “Head down on the bed, legs apart.”
Slowly she did as he asked, positioning herself so that her ass was high in the air and her face pressed into the mattress.
More lubricant eased over her entrance, inside, outside, stroking and gentle. And then the firm pressure of the plug, pressing with unrelenting force. Her body stretched and protested, held firm.
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together to keep out the soft moan of protest as her opening stretched to accommodate the thickness of the plug.
Back and forth, he eased, each time gaining more ground until finally, with one firm push, he seated it deep into her rectum.
Her head came off the bed as her body spasmed and clenched. She sucked air through her nose as she tried to steady her reaction. Her hands curled into tight balls, the sheet rumpled in her palm.
Damon pressed a gentle kiss to her bottom and then got up from his seat on the bed.
“Take your shower then come downstairs. Bring a brush so I can see to your hair. I’ll be in the dining room eating.”
She nodded, her eyes still closed.
Gingerly, she climbed from the bed, the unfamiliar sensation of the plug stretching her behind making her cautious. She gave a little sigh as she walked toward the bathroom. What she could really use was another long, hot bath, but she wouldn’t keep Damon waiting.
She showered quickly and stepped out to dry herself. The gold band on her arm gleamed in the mirror, and she paused to examine the intricate design. Wearing the band that marked his claim made her feel like one of the slave girls from Egyptian times.
A delicate shiver paraded up her skin as she glanced down at the matching band around her ankle. He’d claimed her publicly. Branded her his own. He’d done everything she’d fantasized about and more.
As fantasies went, this was certainly one of her more successful jobs. Everything had come together as planned and had gone off without a hitch. If only all her clients could be so well satisfied.
The reminder that this was purely business put a damper on the decadent thrill that had washed through her just moments ago. Damon had a way of making her believe it. Even when everything had been orchestrated, down to the most finite detail. He made her believe it was real.
She toweled her hair as dry as she could and arranged it so it was out of her face. The towel she’d dried off with was a temptation. She wanted to wrap it around herself to go downstairs in, but she sensed that him leaving her to shower and come down alone was a test. He’d specified that she not dress unless he instructed her to, and as awkward as she felt going nak*d, with a plug in her ass, she’d do it.
A blush staining her skin, she walked out of the bedroom, dreading the thought of running into Sam or Damon’s housekeeper en route to the dining room.
She picked up her pace when she didn’t immediately see anyone and hurried down the hallway toward where Damon waited. At the doorway, she stopped abruptly and would have turned and walked away but Damon looked up and saw her.
There were two men seated at the table with Damon. They were all in conversation and it sounded businesslike in tone. Had she messed up by coming down nak*d? Or had Damon not known of his visitors before he asked her to come down with the plug embedded in her ass?
Damon watched her silently then held out his hand. God, he wanted her to come to him. The other men, seeing Damon’s gesture, turned and saw her in the doorway. There was no surprise in their expressions, just the bright flare of lust.
When she didn’t immediately move, Damon raised one brow and continued to hold his hand out to her. Hell. He did mean for her to join them.
She started forward, feeling the men’s gazes on her bare flesh. As she drew closer, some of her embarrassment faded under the stark approval in Damon’s eyes. He captured her hand and drew her close against him.
“Serena, I’d like you to meet Mr. Phillips and Mr. Granger, two business associates of mine. Gentlemen, this is Serena. She belongs to me.”
His words echoed in her mind, sharp, reminding her of the e-mail she’d written when her fantasies had been alive and fluid in her mind. She gasped as she realized that this, like the auction, was an incarnation of one of those fantasies.
Her knees trembled, and nervousness skittered up her spine like a splintered piece of wood catching on silk.
Damon pulled at her hand and guided her down to the floor between his legs. There was plenty of space between his chair and the table, and she settled gingerly on her heels, careful of the plug stretching her ass as she moved.
He cradled her head in his lap as he continued his conversation with the two men. She didn’t even try to make sense of it all. Her nerves were jumping like frogs on speed.
The entire time he talked with the other men, his hand caressed and fondled her face, positioning her closer to his crotch. When her cheek was pressed to the inside of his thigh, he casually loosened his trousers and tugged his c*ck from the fly.
Never missing a beat in conversation, he cupped her head with one hand and grasped his c*ck with the other and guided himself into her mouth.
He was hard and turgid, filling her mouth and thrusting to her throat. She barely had time to catch her breath before his hands buried in her hair and held her tightly against him.
He never spoke to her, never gave her instruction, but his demand was clear. Pleasure him. There as he conversed with his colleagues, she was to perform as the slave she wanted to be.
Long, hard strokes. Breathless. His taste filled her. And then as she tasted his pr**um, he pulled sharply at her hair and held her head away from his cock. Her head was tilted back so that her neck was exposed and she stared up at him, helpless in his grasp.
And then she heard it. The line from her fantasy as one of the other men calmly asked if Damon would loan out the services of his slave so that he too might be pleasured.
Her heart thumped wildly. She remembered this, had almost been ashamed to put it down on paper. In her fantasy, Damon had commanded her to kneel between the knees of the other two men in turn and pleasure them with her mouth while he watched.
“I don’t share what is mine, gentlemen,” Damon said in a terse voice.
She blinked in surprise. Though the words had been directed at the two men, Damon stared down at her the entire time as though his statement had been directed solely at her.
“You are, however, free to observe as my slave pleasures me,” he finished softly.
CHAPTER 21
Serena sucked in her breath but it only made her chest tighter. Damon’s c*ck was hard and distended, reaching upward toward his waist as it lay flat against his open pants.
“Stand up,” he ordered quietly as his grip tightened in her hair.
She placed her hands on his knees and pushed herself up. His hand fell from her hair as she came to her feet in front of him, her back to the two men sitting at the table.
He grasped his c*ck and stroked, maintaining his erection while his gaze raked over her body.
“Turn around.”
Her eyes cast downward, she turned until she faced the table. Behind her, Damon stood, his hands skimming over her back. His hands cupped her shoulders and he pushed her down until her upper body lay on the table with her ass in the air and her legs dangling from the vulnerable position he’d placed her in.
Her br**sts pressed into the polished wood, the surface cool against her skin. Her cheek lay against the table, her gaze now focused on the two men who’d risen from their chairs.
They were attractive men, one about Damon’s age and one older. The bulges at the juncture of their legs told Serena they wanted her, wanted the pleasure of her mouth and her body, only Damon had been adamant in his denial.
And then, to her surprise, one of the men reached for her arm and pulled it upward until her palm rested against the table and his fingers formed a tight restraint around her wrist. She lost sight of the other man, but then her other wrist was captured against the table. Her breath caught, and nervous apprehension raced through her veins. She was captive and helpless, trapped against the table at her most vulnerable.
Damon’s fingers gripped the plug, and before she could draw in a breath, the still-lubricated device slid easily from her body. Her anus quivered in reaction, still stretched from the plug.
Before her body could relax and take back its shape, the blunt head of Damon’s c*ck pressed firmly against her sphincter. The two men held her tighter as if expecting her to resist. She could hear the rapid intake of their breaths. She could feel the tangible spark of their arousal as they watched Damon master her.
In one thrust, Damon pinned her to the table, his c*ck sliding deep into her ass. The sensation of him rasping across the delicate tissues of her anus was almost more than she could bear. She cried out, rearing her head from the table, but one of the men pushed her down again, his palm resting firmly against her cheek. The force and dominance sent a myriad of arousal tumbling through her shaking body.
He stretched her impossibly, his balls pressed against her p**sy as he strained forward. She was full, so full, the bite of pain making her head swim even as the fringes of ecstasy called to her, inviting her on a decadent ride.
His hand snaked up her spine to tangle in her hair, hair that he had yet to brush as he’d promised. The other man moved his palm from her face, and Damon’s fingers caught in the still-damp snarls and pulled, forcing her head up.
She knew what he wanted, knew that he wanted her to look at the men holding her down, to understand that while they could look, and touch, they could never have her.
His body was over hers, mounting her possessively, a show of his ownership. For a long moment, he remained seated in her, pinning her to the table as the two men watched with glittering eyes, their fingers digging into her wrists.
Then he began to move. Gently at first, he withdrew, sliding across the distended hole, opening her wider to him. Then, when the crown of his dick rimmed her opening, he surged forward again, slamming his h*ps against her ass.
She tried to process the barrage of sensations. Tried to put a name to the delicious thrill of having a man deep in her ass. Never before had she felt anything to rival the bite of pain and the kiss of pleasure that melded together so beautifully, so seam- lessly that where one began and the other ended she wasn’t certain.
The relief when he withdrew, when the overwhelming fullness abated, was intensely pleasurable. But when he thrust forward again, reopening her to his advances, the dark swirl of pain nipped and took hold until she gasped for breath. For mercy.
His hands left her hair, and his fingers gripped the globes of her ass, spreading her as his thick c*ck worked in and out of her tiny entrance.
She lay there, helpless against his passion, her vision glazed and the two men on either side of her as dim as her other surroundings. There was only Damon and the pleasure he gave her. The pleasure he forced her to take.
He withdrew, pulling all of the way out of her, letting the head of his c*ck rest between her cheeks.
“Tell me you want it,” he said in a guttural voice, raspy and hoarse with need. “Tell me you want my c*ck in your ass.”
“Please,” she whispered.
“I can’t hear you,” he said harshly.
“Please!”
“Tell me what you want, Serena.”
“Your cock. In my ass. Please,” she pleaded.
He tucked the crown against her puckered entrance and thrust forward, reopening her ruthlessly. And then he withdrew. Completely. Her aching ass pulsed and throbbed.
The hands at her wrists released her. Damon gripped her h*ps and flipped her over so that her back was now pressed to the table. For the first time, she stared into his eyes, and what she saw took her breath away. There was a feral light. Ruthless intensity as if the calm, cultured man had been replaced by a snarling beast bent on dominating his captive.
He spread her legs as the two men took her arms and pinned them above her head. The position forced her br**sts upward, and Damon leaned down, his hungry lips devouring the rigid peaks. His mouth was rough, ravenous, his teeth scraping her n**ples as he bit sharply. She stirred restlessly, wanting to touch him, but her captors held her tight against the table.
As Damon pulled away, he roughly pushed her legs up and the two men each grabbed an ankle and pulled up and outward so that her ass and p**sy were helplessly bared to Damon. He cupped her buttocks, kneading the globes forcefully even as he spread them.
The men spread her impossibly wide as Damon tucked the fat head of his c*ck against her now-closed rectum. Oh God. He wasn’t gentle. He reopened her with ruthless precision, and the new position made his angle something she wasn’t prepared for. She cried out and bucked upward but even as the bite unstead ied her, it gave way to a dark, edgy pleasure wrapped in pain’s embrace.