Page 48 of His Keepsake

Was Emme my favorite kind of masochist—one I could hurt and hurt and know it was my dominance that was the key?

My heart stuttered as I looked into those eyes and was struck dead center with a susurrating revelation that whispered of …something unknown and beyond my understanding.

A tiny V of frown lines had formed between her eyes. Tears glistened on her lashes. Framed by still-damp blonde curls, her face was as exquisite as the rest of her.

This was a girl with hopes and a history. She had wanted to be a nun. I wasn’t averse to fucking a nun, or a would-be nun, but somehow knowing these few details had made her into a someone.

She was no longer merely my porno fantasy.

She was a woman, one with a seriously deviant kink for being fucked while forced.

But that was me, in reverse.

Quietly, slowly, I sat back into the chair, still watching her, while Axl tipped food onto our plates and slid mine at me, letting the plate travel under her—past her knee and through her hands—as if on a train track designed by a perverted engineer. The plate bumped one of the weights and she hissed as the clamp on her poor, squashed nipple tightened.

My balls tightened, also. I swallowed.

Damn, she was plain tasty. I ducked my head and licked at her, seeking access past the metal clamp, curling my tongue around that abused nipple. Her hands tensed into claws on the table. I gripped her breast to keep her still. Afterward, I grabbed a fork and began to eat, as if her plaintive sounds of arousal were nothing to me.

When Axl had mentioned strangling her until she turned purple, it’d made my rusty morals creak into action. I figured I knew myself. I wasn’t amoral, just a selfish, one-track man, and what I wanted, I often took, regardless of what others wanted.

And maybe, just maybe, I was not the same as Axl. I no longer trusted him with her. Of course, his threat might be a loud-mouthed fantasy.

Nevertheless, I did not want to see him fuck her. Sharing was caring? Not anymore.

In between mouthfuls, I thought, and I fed her morsels. She opened her mouth, took my forkful of food as if it were a dildo, stripped the fork clean with her petite white teeth and blush-red lips. Watching her chew and swallow was as sexy and fascinating as the abrupt sway of her breasts when Axl slapped them, or of her body when he did something to her butt.

I licked my forefinger and stuck it into her mouth. Without questioning, she sucked on it, and my cock pulsed. Less brat, more submissive, definitely, and normally that turned me off. Not her, not yet.

But…Axl. I needed to clear that up.

“Let’s not spit-roast her after this. Maybe at this party.” Liar, liar. “We can let her rest until then.”

“Huh.” Axl had a mouthful of Thai, and he waved his fork, then, “Sure. Also…” He swiveled in his chair, as if looking for something in the room. “Next time, find some chopsticks.”

“There are ivory ones in with the cutlery.” I added softly, “Keep sucking, Emme, until I say to stop.” My tone was a little strained. Fucking her now would have been a great dessert.

Her eyes opened wider, and she gave a muffled noise of acknowledgement around my finger, which created extra suction.

With my other hand I supported her chin, caressed her throat. “Such a pretty, warm, wet mouth…a hole made for dick.”

She blinked then slowly nodded, moving my finger where it sat trapped in that cave. I held the head in place and pushed my finger further, jamming it in until my knuckles were flush with skin. It stopped her sucking, made her retch. My toes fucking curled into the floor.

Axl murmured, “Going in back here…” From her stiffening body and burble, from her teeth on my finger, and judging by the subtle arch of her back, he’d inserted something—his finger from the soft sounds—as he pumped it in and out.

Whatever else happened at this party, Axl wasn’t getting inside her. But this was irresistible, still. Fingerfucked at both ends. Scantily clad woman on my gorgeous table. A naked woman dripping drool and girl come at both ends, soon, if we weren’t careful. Yep, I was a sick bastard.

I’d sort it out later. “Don’t make her come.”

“I won’t.” He grinned. “You know, little Emme, your friend Charity sounded keen on this—what we’re doing to you.” His voice lowered as he worked at her, fingerfucking her pussy. “We should take her, too. What do you think of that?”

She jerked, and I let her rip her mouth from my finger. She blurted, “No!”

Axl’s grin widened. “A maybe then.”

Her fear was obvious in the tension about her eyes, in the way she tried to appeal to me by raising her eyebrows.

It was a mindfuck, though. I smiled and shrugged. “She might like it.”

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