Sanctum_Saving Setora Page 9

  The other night, watching Patch with Diamond, I’d realized how much I loved seeing a man lick a woman to release, and it was no different with Pretty Boy and me.

  Patch. My fool of a mind settled on him, and I tried to push the thought down, my body freezing before I thought about it. Pretty Boy lifted his head, and a disapproving look clouded his face. “Don’t do that. Don’t think, just feel.”

  But the moment was gone, it seemed. “Master—"

  “Apparently, our Petal isn’t getting enough stimulation to stop her brain from working.” Steel jerked my head back, eyes on mine. When had he moved behind me? “Let’s shut that shit down right the fuck now.”

  “I’m sorry, Masters, I—"

  “Why are you talking?” Steel growled, and he slapped his hand over my mouth. Pretty Boy hummed his approval as he sucked my clit into his mouth, pulling on it with his strong lips. The powerful suction was almost too much. Then he released my clit and darted his tongue into my soaking core, mimicking the action of sex—in and out, then back to sucking my clit again.

  Having Steele silence me so forcefully nearly pushed me over the edge. It amplified everything Pretty Boy did, until I bucked against him, grabbed his head, and screamed.

  The orgasm ripped through me, shredding every dark thought. It scoured every ounce of guilt I had, scorched earth. Pretty Boy had slowed, and I wailed against Steel’s palm as I came down from my breaking point, but the next instant, Pretty Boy was crushing me into the carpet under his frame. His cock found my entrance, and he surged forward, burying himself in my heat.

  “Yes, master, please,” I begged. I needed to be pounded to oblivion. Instead, he fucked me hard once, twice, three times, just enough to make every inch of me ache for more. Just enough to let me know he was master and I was his. Then he pulled out.

  “Come here. I want to see you fuck my Brother.”

  Before I knew it, Steel was lying on his back across the carpet, and he’d pulled me across him. He and Pretty Boy helped me straddle him, so that I was sitting facing him.

  And facing the entrance to the cave.

  I froze. Outside on the walkway, people clattered past the entrance in plain view of us. I thought I saw Crash and Cherry staggering in each other’s arms

  toward the slave quarters. Most everyone who passed by looked too drunk or high to notice, but still, all anyone had to do was turn his or her head to their left and they’d see us.

  They’d see me, straddling Steel’s huge frame, his cock about to be buried deep inside me, Pretty Boy behind me, kneeling between Steel’s knees, his hands cupping my breasts.

  Embarrassment filled me, warring with an upsurge of lust that made my head swim. The idea that people might see us should have had me dying of humiliation, but it just made me hotter.

  “Yeah. This is how I want you,” Pretty Boy rumbled in my ear. He kissed his way along my neck and shoulder and palmed my breasts. “Take Steel’s cock, Princess. Take his cock inside you, baby, make him feel good.”

  Steel’s cock was thick and so hard the thought of him inside me made me writhe against Pretty Boy’s shoulder. Gripping Steel’s hardness, I raised up on my knees and angled him inside me. Slowly, I took him, inch by inch. The three of us moaned when he was sheathed to the hilt.

  Pretty Boy jerked my head to the side, his fingers pinching my jaw almost too hard while he ravaged my mouth. Steel’s giant hands squeezed my ass cheeks and moved my hips so they rocked the way he liked.

  “Show us how much you missed us.” Steel slid his hands around and up to my breasts and pinched my nipples.

  I moaned and arched for him, sucking on Pretty Boy’s tongue.

  Steel started pumping into me with hard, deep strokes. Pretty Boy released my jaw and started kissing along my shoulders, moving my hair aside and licking my back. He pushed my head forward to give himself a better angle. When I was able to raise my eyes a little, I froze. We were not alone.

  Maker, Sheriff stood in the entrance to the cave. This was the second time he’d come upon two of his men pleasuring me. A mix of arousal and thrilling fear spiked in me, seeing the deep lust in his hard gaze. Especially when I saw the bulge in his pants grow exponentially.

  I’d stopped rocking my hips, going motionless, and my mouth opened as I was about to tell them Sheriff was there. Neither one saw him, or they would have said something, certainly.

  Sheriff put his finger to his lips, leaning against the wall of the entrance, eyes on the sight before him as if it was his personal show, put on just for him. How he managed to make that gesture for me to keep silent seem dangerous, I’d never know, but there was just something so predatory, so innately lethal about him, the command held the same power over me as if he’d whipped my backside with that belt of his.

  The way he had before the one and only time he’d taken me, claiming me while my ankles were tied to his bed posts, keeping me spread open for him. The memories of that day, the way he fucked me while he punished me, had me grinding on Steel.

  “Fuck me, Petal,” Steel grunted, and his palm slapped my ass cheek hard. I whimpered in pleasure and began to move up and down on him while Sheriff watched.

  Pretty Boy pushed my shoulders down a little, and something wet touched my puckered hole. Panic reared up, but then his finger pressed and circled, creating such an incredible riot of sensations that they quickly obliterated my fear.

  Then his finger entered me where no one had ever been before.

  I winced at the sting but groaned at the pleasure and he pushed deeper, causing me to lean forward even more.

  Oh, how could this possibly feel so good?

  “You like that?” He slid his finger in and out, deep strokes that sent tiny volts of pleasure-pain everywhere he touched, making me buck into and pull away from all at the same time.

  I nodded but my eyes were on Sheriff. His smile was mocking, his dark blue eyes, like pools of flame, raw with a potent mixture of mocking hatred and arousal. His rippling arms were crossed over his wide chest, but his cock jutted out from between his legs, leaving an impressive tent in the front of his leather pants. I bit my bottom lip, my mouth suddenly wanting to be filled.

  I must have stopped moving again, because Pretty Boy fingered me harder. The pleasure-pain made me whine.

  “Let’s not give that little head of yours time to get going again.” He bit my ear.

  I rocked my hips, panting. Some inexorable force had me simultaneously wishing Sheriff would leave, and hoping he’d stay and keep taking it all in. That powerful need to give him what was his tugged at me, and suddenly I pictured him feeding me his cock. Holding my head while he shoved it almost down my throat, ignoring me as I tried to pull away.

  The notion should have scared me, and it did, especially when he tensed, and I thought he was going to walk over and take his pleasure from me. But it also made me slicker, burning me up.

  Twice, I saw his hand move toward that bulge, then fist itself. Arousal and something that looked like accusation flashed in his eyes, a corrosive mix.

  Just then, Pretty Boy yanked my head back and devoured my mouth, while his fingers, two of them now, slid in and out of my back passage. The pain was less, a faint sting, pleasure quickly overriding anything else, and making me feel even fuller with Steel’s cock inside me.

  “I can’t wait to fill your little ass with my cock,” Pretty Boy said into my ear. His eyes lifted to the doorway. “Let everyone walking by see you getting fucked.”

  I jerked my eyes forward. But Sheriff was gone, and the entrance was empty.

  “You’ll be taking both of us at once, soon enough, but I want you prepared first,” Pretty Boy said.

  The implication—of these two large men using me up at once sent me over the edge. Steel started rubbing my clit with his thumb, and I bucked wildly, coming apart with a scream and a thrash.

  Steel pounded me until he came, grunting his release. As soon as he was done, Pretty Boy pulled me off him, flipped me onto my
stomach across the rough carpet, pinned me under him, and pounded into my wet sex, a single, harsh, hungry thrust.

  There was no time to get used to him, and he didn’t slow down, just started fucking me hard and fast. His knees spread my legs apart, and my legs scraped the carpet, but the roughness only added to my need.

  “Did you miss us? Did you miss getting fucked?”

  I loved the roughness in his voice, the wickedness in it. He was all badness and roughness and master.

  “Yes…yes…Master.”

  He panted, and his hips smacked mine. Then he stopped but stayed inside me. “Who do you belong to, Princess?”

  “You, Master,” I managed to get out. I pushed back on him, wanting him to keep fucking me.

  Pretty Boy squeezed my ass cheeks, spreading them. “That’s right. And who else do you belong to?” He pulled out of me and rubbed his wet cock up and down the crack of my ass. My stomach twisted with anxiety.

  “I belong to Steel, Master.”

  He entered my core again but applied several lubricated fingers into my asshole. The pressure was both painful and erotic at the same time, and all I could do was let out a long, low moan.

  “That’s right, baby. What a good little whore you are, so greedy for me to fill your holes. These perfect holes that belong to us.”

  He pumped into me slowly, deliberately, then reached under me with his other hand the pinch my clit. My body almost jumped off the floor.

  “Too much, Master, oh…please, Master, yes.”

  “Fuck, you’re amazing, Princess.” Both hands now dug into my hips, lifting me up slightly, while he pounded me for all his worth.

  Steel was suddenly in front of me, on his knees. “Lift her head up. I want her mouth around my cock.”

  Pretty Boy fisted my hair and yanked my head up, holding it there while Steel shoved himself inside. “That’s it. Suck him, Princess.”

  I moaned around a mouth full of man, still not accustomed the size of him filling my mouth. Steel’s cock was like the rest of him, thick and gargantuan.

  As they both found a synchronized rhythm, being taken roughly at both ends left no room for anything else. Pleasure and the sensations they wrought on me became the whole of my world until I lost myself in them.

  I truly, never wanted to come back from it, I wanted to be lost.

  I was not a slave, or a Violet, or a woman whose masters confused and distanced themselves as often as they pleasured me. I was just a woman, wrapped in her men as a woman of the Old World would have been. A woman before the time of slavery. Before the Virus changed everything.

  My men took me hard and viciously from both ends as though they were determined to drive out all thoughts but the here and now, with them. I went over the edge again, coming apart like a woman possessed. They came a moment after, nearly at the same time, a flurry of grunts and thrusts.

  When they finally stopped, we were panting and sweating, lying in a heap. Steel and I were lying across the carpet, kissing long and slow while Pretty Boy disappeared into his bedroom. I heard water splash as he washed his hands. When he returned, he leaned down on the floor near me, a wet towel in his hand.

  “Next time you’ll take us both,” he said as he gently cleaned me between my legs. This was the second time in twenty-four hours that Pretty Boy had washed me. “If Hawk ever gets his shit together, I want to see you with all three of us, one hole each.”

  “Ohh, yeah,” Steel murmured.

  The notion had my brows shooting up into my hairline. Every muscle in me clenched with a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. And did I imagine the command in his tone, the implication that I didn’t have a choice? I didn’t know what to say, so I just bit my lip, half dreading, half hoping.

  Pretty Boy finished cleaning me and set the towel on the floor. Then he flopped onto his back across the carpet and pulled me across him so my head lay in the crook of his shoulder. I sighed, content, my thoughts sluggish with the after-effects of sex.

  “You’re still so perfect, Petal,” Steel said in a throaty, husky voice, lying across the carpet beside us, sprawled out. “Don’t know what we’d have done if we’d have lost you.”

  I grinned and groped for his hand. Then I lifted my head. I didn’t want to tell them about the General now, but he might have come for something important.

  “Masters, Sheriff was here.”

  “When?” Pretty Boy lifted his head.

  “When we were…um.”

  “Oh.” He grinned. “He watched?”

  I nodded.

  “He probably wanted me to help with the preparations for tomorrow,” Steel said.

  Tomorrow. The execution. A cloud passed over my heart, blotting out the happy bubble swelling in me, but I banished it. I wouldn’t let anything ruin this moment before I’d had the chance to enjoy it.

  “I’ll go talk to him in a bit.” Steel massaged my rump with his palm, looking comfortable. It made my stomach flutter, thinking that he couldn’t bring himself to leave because of me.

  “Feeling better now, Princess?” Pretty Boy asked with his mouth to my ear.

  I giggled and nodded, loving this warm, pleasant glow I felt.

  “I am, Master.”

  He got to his knees and picked me up in his arms. He and Steel went to the bedroom and Pretty Boy laid me down. We were all exhausted. Both of them crawled into bed with me, one on each side, walls of protection I hoped would never leave me.

  I don’t even know when the change happened, but suddenly being near these men brought a sense of safety and comfort, a need to be near them that I’d never felt before. I just hoped my heart didn’t get too close.

  A weepy feeling overtook me, and I buried my face in Steel’s chest, then in Pretty Boy’s neck. So much of my life had become such a messed up world, I could barely process it half the time. And yet, right then, I could imagine that all the craziness was worlds away and there was only us.

  Tonight, I’d claimed a piece of heaven. Tomorrow, how well would I handle hell?

  Chapter 8

  Patch in, Patch Out

  I woke in Pretty Boy’s bed the next morning to a strange growling. Blinking, I sat up slowly. Had Pretty Boy suddenly acquired a dog?

  No. The sound wasn’t from a dog. It was motorcycle engines revving.

  For a moment, my mind flashed back to my mother, to the night the road warriors had taken her. The way they’d road off into the dust, leaving me hiding the next day in the compartment of a transport pod, never to see my mother again.

  Why should the growl of motorbike engines bring such memories now? I no longer feared that sound, not since riding out of Zone 2 after my masters had saved me.

  I’d just tossed the blankets back and gotten out of bed when Pretty Boy came into the room, long blond hair wet, with Steel on his heels. Pretty Boy carried a tray of cabbage salad, tea, and binacca, while Steel picked up one of the cadris from a chair.

  “Time to get up, Princess. Here, eat this quickly.”

  “What? What’s wrong, Masters?” Their uncommon urgency unsettled me, but I sat on the edge of the bed and put the tray across my lap.

  Steel stroked my hair and set the cadris on the bed beside me but said nothing.

  I took his hand and looked at the cadris. This one was much more subdued than the one I’d worn last night, in a dark blue with a white sash offering the only contrast.

  “Masters? What’s going on?”

  “Eat first.” Pretty Boy nodded to the tea. “The iris root is already in the tea. Drink up. Then we need to get going. The execution is about to start.”

  My face drained of blood. “The execution? Wait, you mean I have to watch?”

  Steel frowned at me and sighed, a touch of sympathy etched onto his face. “Sorry, Petal. We tried to get you out of it. Tried to persuade Sheriff to excuse you, but he wouldn’t allow it. Everyone has to be present for an execution, no exceptions.”

  My stomach dropped sickeningly. I’d picked up a s
lice of binacca but at his words, let it drop back into the bowl.

  The truth was, Sheriff’s decision shouldn’t have surprised me. Perhaps I should have even felt a certain respect for him in making it. Maker knew, every zone had the same regulation. All citizens, regardless of age, gender, or status, had to be present for lawful executions. Only the executions of J’nai members, and those of similar ranks, were private, excepting only certain members. Though in a lot of ways, road warrior crews operated differently than other people, and the Grotto had its own sets of laws that didn’t apply to other zones, it stood to reason they’d have the same regulations when it came to executions.

  Still, the thought of seeing someone put to death publicly right before my eyes made my head feel unpleasantly light. Living with Damien’s people, isolated from the general public, meant executions weren’t something I was desensitized to the way most people were. And almost every execution I had seen had a note of injustice to it, someone killed for simply doing what was needed to survive. That hadn’t been the case with Patch, but I couldn’t help feeling the same sense of wrongness at the thought of being there.

  I slipped a piece of binacca in my mouth slowly, trying to think on how to respond. The normally sweet, succulent fruit was tasteless, like paper on my tongue.

  Part of me wished Steel and Pretty Boy hadn’t tried to talk Sheriff into exempting me from being present. He already thought of me as some pampered J’nai princess, Damien’s cultured plant. Now he would think I was weak on top of being a spy. He was probably only commanding I watch the execution because making an exception for me would be dangerous, but I couldn’t help thinking he was doing it to punish me.

  Shaking off the pity party, I forced myself to finish the meal. “Where is the execution, Masters?”

  “It’s on a green in a part of the Grotto you haven’t seen yet. Everybody will be there. Sheriff is overseeing the ceremony, so you’ll be with me and Steel. Cherry’ll be there too.”

  Tea and breakfast finished, I dressed, combed out my hair, and gave my teeth a quick brush in Pretty Boy’s washing closet. I looked longingly at the water pitcher, wishing I had time for a bath. It would have to wait.