Wicked Desires (Wicked Affairs, Book One) (15 page)

One of his hands cupped the slut’s ass and then slid down her thigh.

The sensual moaning sounded like taunts of failure.

Clarissa took one step forward, her hands fisting at her side. Feverish anger washed over her. She was fully prepared to tear out the woman’s eyes without a moment’s regret.

Michael’s face was buried at the woman’s neck but he deigned to acknowledge Clarissa with a sleepy look and an easy greeting. “
Chérie
, won’t you join us?”

Clarissa’s panic welled up in her chest. She fought back the tears.

“Hurry,
chérie
. Your clothes,” he commanded.

Michael stood, the whore sliding from his lap to her feet, all bouncing breasts and wiggling hips, still clinging to Michael’s side. He was naked. His erection long and hard and the last thing she wanted tonight. He approached Clarissa and helped with the robe.

His French was silky smooth and hypnotic. “Now where did we leave off last night?”

Michael’s hands jerked at her bodice, each tug causing her breasts to bounce and her nipples to tighten. The whore that had been in his lap had found him again and her hands were splayed over his skin, touching him.

“Help me with this,” he switched to English and the whore who’d sprawled in his lap hurried to assist. “Tie her between the bedposts.”

Clarissa stiffened when the stranger’s hand gripped her wrist. After fastening a tight bind around her wrists and securing them between the wooden posts the woman slinked away.

“
Chérie,
it’s time you learn new things. Relax. We’ve had our play. It’s time to satisfy your curiosity about other activities.” His hands released the final string and pushed the barely there bodice to the front, letting it fall to the bed. Her body was now fully naked, except for the luxurious stockings and the satiny mask. One hand was already tied and Michael used slight pressure to force her other arm higher.

“No, I—” she said, her normally smooth French now squeaky and barely audible.

Then it was done, and she couldn’t hide. Standing secured between the posts, she was bared to them completely. Michael snapped his finger and the whore on the bed got to her knees, facing Clarissa, who turned her head away, not willing to see anything that happened. Michael cupped her chin and whispered, “Watch,
chérie
. You might learn something.”

The other man came in behind the whore.

Michael stood directly behind Clarissa, his hands encircled her waist and then slid his finger lower to the apex of her thighs. Clarissa stared as, opposite her, the other couple mimicked Michael’s activities. She stared as those fingers slipped between the other woman’s legs, just as Michael was doing to her. She gasped, lurched, jerked at her bindings.

“Easy,
chérie
. We’re just getting started.”

His fingers caressed along the hot, wet flesh between her legs. Her knees trembled.

Across from her, she watched the same thing, only the whore was moaning and shaking. Her hands, free of bindings, reached up and over her head to slide into the other man’s hair. Her abundant breasts lifted high in temptation.

One of Michael’s hands cupped Clarissa’s breast and kneaded. Both nipples were tight and achy and she could only think of his mouth sucking and soothing as he drew the pointy tips inside. He slipped his finger inside her sheath. Her back arched and she leaned her head into his shoulder.

Her reaction was shocking, given the fact she was naked with several strangers in the room.

“Watch,
chérie
. Look how excited she is and she doesn’t have my fingers in her pussy. Or my cock.”

Clarissa shuddered. An orgasm built and she moaned and squirmed trying to reach it, yet trying to make it stop.

Michael laughed in her ear and pulled his fingers from her body. “You hot little puss. Not yet, not until you are begging. Not until I have you stuffed full of cock and maybe not even then.”

“Please,
monsieur
,” she whispered.

Michael snapped his fingers and the two girls moved quickly, disappearing out the door.

The large, intimidating man with the frightful cock came closer. She couldn’t feel Michael behind her and she nearly screamed at the prostitute’s approach.

She almost called Michael’s name and begged to end the game.

She fought against the bindings, trying to get away from him and somehow closer to Michael. From behind her, he threw one of those dildos she’d seen on the bed.

Then he was there. The weight of his cock settled at the cheeks of her ass, his hand slid around her waist.

“Step up,
chérie
.” Michael lifted her to a step platform at the end of the bed, raising her to a level for—

“Here’s what you came for, isn’t it?” His cock probed at her behind, then she felt his hand separate her ass checks. “Bend forward,” he said.

Clarissa didn’t move. She had barely moved a muscle since she walked into the room, only propelled by Michael’s strong arms to do what he said. Michael’s hands moved, one at her waist, one at her shoulders, pushing her torso forward and her ass back. Her face burned at the subjection, at the knowledge another watched. And by bending forward, she was precariously closer to the upthrust penis of the other man.

Her humiliation was complete as she felt the wet excitement coursing down her leg, her sheath dripping with unfulfilled want.

Michael’s hands stroked her bottom and then he slid one finger down, sliding into the sexual wetness before massaging at the entrance of her tight ass. At the first intrusion, she clenched. Michael laughed behind her. “I didn’t know whores liked this so much.”

Behind her, Michael’s cock slipped between her legs, the gathering moisture bathing the length of his erection.

He circled, spreading and readying her. Her body ached for penetration, she reacted strongly and instinctually as the first touch of his cock pressed against the sphincter. She arched forward. “Good,
chérie
. I know you’re hungry for it. Take all of me.”

The first tight press had her puckering, he shoved steady and hard, breaching through the muscled barrier.

She gasped as he slid deep, deeper. The pressure had her panting and jerking against his body. “Ah. Ah,” she whimpered.

“Are you ready to come,
chérie
?”

He wrenched his cock from her, leaving her empty and desperate. She moaned with want.

“Now what do you say, when you want something desperately?”

“Please,
monsieur
. Please.”

“What do you want? Tell me. Exactly.”

“I want…I want your cock inside me.”

“Are you sure it’s mine you want and not that beautiful monster in front of you?”

Clarissa peeked open her eyes and her body spasmed when she saw the hideous length, hard and erect, near her.

She leaned forward, her body reacting. Wild, hot sparks shot upward and outward. Her orgasm was flaming and she didn’t even have physical stimulus. She started keening. Her mouth came open as her vagina clenched hard, grabbing onto nothing before erupting in deep, hard contractions that had her falling forward. Michael’s arm around her waist prevented her hanging from her arms with only the bindings to hold her up. Her hips jerked in shameful pleasure, the orgasm inadequate without the fullness of his cock to grip.

“I think she’s going to want more of that later,” Michael said, and dear God, she thought he meant from that behemoth.

“Brace yourself,
chérie
. You’re going to be screaming in a minute.”

Michael started into her again. She heard him groan as he pushed into her ass. “
Chérie
, I think I could die right here.” His fingers skated along her spine, then slipped under her arm as he grabbed a handful of her breasts. She heard him pant as his breath came in hard, harsh lungfuls.

“Hand me the dildo,” he said. Clarissa clenched against his cock.

The phallus he’d chosen was large and long. Intimidating. “Hold on,
chérie
. I’ve got to get you ready for him.”

Impaled on his cock, Clarissa couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. Her eyes got big as she saw him move the dildo between her thighs. Her legs were already braced wide, his cock keeping her open and unmovable except for the hard spasms in her ass that seemed to come more often and, embarrassingly, that she could not control.

Behind her, his body hadn’t moved as he held them together close and slightly bent forward. Clarissa’s bindings were the only thing that kept her from falling forward, that and the fact she didn’t want to fall into the stranger’s lap. She’d never been more thankful that she had a mask.

With slow, seductive movements, Michael ran the dildo along the wet lips of her cunt.

As he moved into the slit between her legs, she held her breath. Michael gripped her tighter. “Tell me how much you love to be fucked,
chérie
. Tell me how much you want cock and what you won’t do to get it.”

“
Oui.
” She swallowed back her excruciating excitement. She wanted to sit on the solid dildo and rock against both of them until she came and then start over again. The smooth, cool phallus filled her, pushed her wide, opened her to the invading pressure and unknown pleasure.

She pulled against the binds, squeezing front and back as a long, deep plateau of pleasure built.

She started gasping in short little pants. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Her scream turned into a desperate groan as another orgasm ripped through her. Her body jerked against the bindings. Michael started a slow undulation behind her and then his hand moved the dildo in and out of her body. A third, nearly painful climax started, but Michael did the worst thing possible. He pulled the dildo from her body and stopped her cold. High and frustrated. Tight and tense.

He whispered in her ear. “Now this is what you’ve been waiting for.”

The other man—strange and perverted—who’d watched her primitive reactions, her most intimate secrets, moved toward her. His hand grazed her stomach and then spread, fingers out, as he reached and touched her breast.

Clarissa gasped. “
Non! Mon dieu.
”

She couldn’t help the excitement, which made her even more disgusted.

She tried to get away, but the bindings along with Michael’s cock buried in her ass and his strong arm all braced her solidly, preventing any movement.

“You want that cock in you, no?”

“No. No!”

“
Chérie
, isn’t your curiosity killing you? Wouldn’t you like to sit on that, stroke yourself raw with pleasure?”

He surged in and out of her from behind, making her gasp. “Look how you want it.”

“No. I can’t.”

He slipped the dildo inside her again. Clarissa felt the tears burning in her eyes.

“No, please.” The male prostitute’s hands cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples.

Clarissa screamed, her body flexing and soaring. Deep, hard contractions that she couldn’t control beat through her, wave after relentless wave.

In all her life, she’d never had such a climax. Nor such deep shame that another man’s hands touched her breasts while it happened.

Behind her, Michael surged, pushing deep. By the sound of his harsh groan, Clarissa knew he’d released and climaxed as brightly as she had.

Tears coursed down her face.

Michael pulled from her body, front and back. She sagged in her bindings.

“C
hérie
, spread your legs wider. He’s ready for you now. And you are ready for him.”

Through the blur of tears, she saw the male terror move closer. His offending erection touched her stomach. She jerked away.

“No. Oh, no. Michael, please. You have to stop now,” she said in crisp Queen’s English.

* * * * *

Without a word, the male prostitute left.

Michael released her bindings and lowered her to the bed.

She wept.

The sounds of water told her Michael was washing himself at the basin. He approached the bed and spread her legs, running a cool wet towel over her well-used cunt.

Her limbs, limp and lifeless, might have been lead weights for all that she could do with them.

Michael left her again. After the tears dried up, she fought the recurring sniffles and shudders that seemed to beset her.

He hadn’t said a word.

When he returned, he knelt between her legs. He reached for the mask, wet with tears, and removed it from her face.

For a long moment, Michael stared at her, his expression hard and emotionless.

He bent low and pressed his lips to her stomach. He licked his way downward and opened his mouth over her sensitive and swollen bud.

The tears started again. Every stroke of his tongue brought sharp pleasure, heightened by her overwrought emotions. Lethargic and chastened, Clarissa wept and moaned in alternating currents. Until he suckled her long and hard, drawing a final despairing, wrenching orgasm from her body, as if it would never respond to a man’s touch again. As if she were dead.