Chapter 15
Lucky
As I turned away from them and walked across the room, I closed my eyes for a second and summoned every ounce of my DeviDraws domme persona as I surveyed the living room, suddenly realizing exactly what Devi would do.
I positioned myself in the center of the largest couch, the one where Bode usually sprawled in his hoodie and sweats. Tonight, it was my throne.
I crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up to show more thigh. The small intake of breath from Wade told me he’d noticed. I straightened my spine, arranged my hands on my lap, and looked up at them both.
“Stand there,” I said, pointing to the space directly in front of me. “Face each other. Close, but not touching.”
They were quick to obey, positioning themselves as I’d instructed. Wade’s broad shoulders were tense, his hands flexing at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for Bode. Bode fidgeted with his sleeves.
“Here’s your punishment, if you agree to it,” I said, leaning forward. “You’re going to give me control. Complete control. And my first rule is: you don’t get to touch each other without my explicit permission.”
“For how long?” Wade asked, his voice rough around the edges.
I smiled, slow and deliberate. “I haven’t decided yet. And for my second rule: I haven’t decided when I’m going to let either of you come.”
Bode bit his bottom lip.
A slow grin spread across Wade’s face. “This is going to be fun.”
“So you agree?”
“Yes,” Wade said immediately, nodding with enough enthusiasm that I almost laughed.
Bode glanced at me, then nodded, too. “Yes. I trust you.”
“We need safe words,” Bode said.
“You can use the safe word I use in my comics. Do you remember it?”
Bode’s face split into a grin. “Mountain.”
“What do we call you?” Wade asked. “Is there a title or titles we should use?”
The question caught me off guard, but I recovered. This was a test, I realized, a chance to see how far I would take this role. In my comics, the domme was addressed with honorifics. Duchess. Goddess. Mistress. Would I claim those titles for myself now, or shy away from them?
“Duchess,” I said, the words strange but right on my tongue. “Like in my comics.”
Wade nodded immediately, a smile spreading across his face. “Yes, Duchess.”
Bode hesitated for a moment, before inclining his head. “Duchess,” he repeated, and the words in his low voice sent a heat to my core.
I took a deep breath, against the rush of arousal. “Strip,” I commanded. “Both of you. And watch each other while you do it. Think about what you can’t have.”
Wade didn’t hesitate. He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion to reveal the broad expanse of his chest, dusted with golden hair that caught the evening light.
Bode was slower, more deliberate, his dark eyes never leaving Wade’s as he unbuttoned his sweater, the shirt underneath. I’d seen glimpses of his body before, but never like this.
“All of it,” I said when they paused at their waistbands. “Everything.”
Wade’s fingers worked at his belt, pushing his jeans down over his thighs, taking his boxers with them. Bode followed suit, kicking his jeans aside, then his boxer briefs.
I rose from the couch, my own body thrumming with need as I circled them.
Wade’s back was as broad as his chest, the muscles shifting under his skin as he breathed.
Bode was all lean strength, the kind that came from a lifetime of athletic discipline, his body a honed machine designed for explosive power.
“Beautiful.” I trailed my fingertips across Wade’s shoulders, down Bode’s spine, along their thighs. I could feel them both trembling under my touch, restraining themselves from moving, from touching. Their cocks jutted out, half hard already. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yes,” Wade breathed. “Please, Duchess.”
“Yes,” Bode echoed, his voice strained. “Please.”
I stepped closer, reaching out to wrap my fingers around Wade’s cock first. He was thick, heavy in my hand, and bigger than any man I’d ever been with.
The sound he made when I stroked him once, twice, was filthy.
I watched Bode watching my hand on Wade, saw how his own cock twitched in response, how his breathing quickened.
Releasing Wade, I moved to Bode, gripping him with the same deliberate pressure.
He was shaped differently, longer than Wade but not as thick, curved upward.
His hips jerked when I ran my thumb over the sensitive head.
Wade’s pupils were blown wide as he watched, his cock leaking pre-cum now, a bead of moisture that caught the light.
I moved between them, creating a triangle of tension, my body close enough to feel their heat but not touching.
The power I held was intoxicating: Wade’s eager puppy-dog eyes following my every move, Bode’s reluctant submission had melted into raw need.
Their cocks twitched when I passed between them, and I could almost detect the effort it took for them not to reach for each other, for me.
I turned to Bode first, my decision spontaneous but deliberate. Making Wade wait would be a special kind of torture.
“Wade, put your hands behind your back and stay where you are. You don’t get to touch yet.” His face fell, but he obeyed, clasping his hands at the small of his back, his cock bobbing with the movement. “Good boy.” I turned my attention to Bode. “Now you get to undress me, sweetheart.”
Bode’s dark eyes widened, and for a moment he looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him, stripped not only of clothes but of the careful indifference he wore like armor. “All of it?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual.
“Everything except the stockings and boots,” I confirmed, stepping closer to him. “Slowly.”
He nodded once, reached for the hem of my tank top with hands that trembled.
The first brush of his fingertips against my bare stomach sent currents racing across my skin.
My nerve endings were already on high alert, my body humming with anticipation, and his touch was like striking a match to gasoline.
Bode lifted the tank top, his knuckles grazing the undersides of my breasts as he pulled it upward.
I raised my arms, letting him draw the fabric over my head, and felt the cool air kiss my heated skin.
His eyes dropped to my black lace bra, lingering on the way my nipples pressed against the delicate material.
“The skirt next,” I instructed, turning so my back was to him.
I felt his fingers at the waistband, fumbling with the hidden zipper.
His breath was warm against my spine as he lowered the zipper tooth by tooth, the sound loud in the quiet room.
The skirt pooled around my ankles, and I stepped out of it, now wearing only my bra, panties, thigh-high stockings, and heeled boots.
When I turned back to face him, Bode’s expression had transformed.
Gone was the careful neutrality, replaced by naked want so intense it was almost painful to witness.
Behind him, Wade made a soft, strangled sound, and I glanced over Bode’s shoulder to see him standing still, hands behind his back as instructed, but his entire body straining toward us, the muscles in his arms corded with restraint.
“My bra,” I said, returning my attention to Bode.
His fingers trailed up my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before reaching the clasp between my shoulder blades.
He was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his naked body, smell the clean, spicy scent of his skin.
The bra came loose, and he slid the straps down my arms, his fingertips tracing paths of fire along my skin.
When my breasts were bare, both men made sounds of appreciation: Wade’s open and enthusiastic, Bode’s an intake of breath that somehow felt more intimate. I stood before them, nearly naked, my body flushed and eager, more powerful than I ever had with my clothes on.
“Panties,” I instructed, my voice low now.
Bode knelt, gazing up at me with those dark eyes as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my underwear.
He drew them down my legs, his breath hot against my thighs, his face inches from my exposed pussy.
I stepped out of the panties, leaving them on the floor with the rest of my discarded clothing.
“Would you like to touch?” I asked, stroking my thumb across Bode’s chin. He nodded eagerly.
“Yes, Duchess.”
“My nipples could use some of your attention.”
He groaned, shifting so he could reach me.
The first touch of his mouth was exquisite: hot and wet and gentle.
He took my left nipple between his lips, sucking softly at first, more firmly as I arched into the contact.
His tongue circled the hardened peak, sending jolts of pleasure straight between my legs.
I threaded my fingers through his dark hair, holding him against me.
“Harder,” I breathed, and he complied, using his teeth now, an edge of pain that made me gasp.
I searched Wade’s face, seeing the hunger that was frightening in its intensity. His cock was straining upward, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, his chest rising and falling. I held his gaze as Bode moved to my other breast, giving it the same attention.
When both nipples were aching and sensitive, I pushed Bode away, down. “On your knees,” I told him, and he sank to the floor without hesitation. “Make me come with your mouth.”
I moved to the sofa, perching on the edge with my legs spread, one foot planted on the floor, the other leg hooked over Bode’s shoulder as he positioned himself between my thighs.
The first swipe of his tongue made me gasp.
It had been so long since anyone had touched me like this, and never with another man watching, never with this sense of control.