CHAPTER ELEVEN
(Matthew)
The wine was good.
The view was better.
Charlotte was on her hands and knees on the table, wine and sweat and cum dripping from her body and the escaped locks of hair that obscured her face. Her ruined gown hung half-off, the skirt bunched up around her waist as the next “knight” got into position.
He reached for the lube, and I held my breath. I had to trust that Charlotte would use her safe word if she needed to. When the man slowly removed the plug, she arched her back and moaned, and I took that to mean she knew exactly what she was doing, exactly what she was asking for.
I only knew the man by his club name, Dean. I’d picked him out for my princess specifically because I’d been with him myself and had a fantastic time. But this context was much different than a casual one-on-one hookup. I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do with her.
His large, tan hands gripped her ass cheeks and parted them. He spit on her and she jolted. I saw the glimmer of panic in her eyes in the split second before he squeezed a stream of lube over her.
“You’re going to take this cock, slut,” he growled, lubing himself up so thoroughly that it dripped from his shaft and onto the table. “You’re going to take it all the way.”
When Charlotte opened her mouth to speak, another partner tapped his dick against her lips. Someone reached between Dean and Charlotte, a long, thick dildo in his hand. He slid it deep into her pussy while Dean eased into her ass. Her pretty eyes flew open wide while she choked on the dick in her mouth. The man fucking her face reached under her to fondle her tits.
I’d wanted to remain the aloof, commanding, nonparticipating presence from our shared fantasy, but it was too much; watching her get filled in every way, hearing and seeing her pleasure consume her overwhelmed me. I unzipped and freed my aching erection.
Dante was standing by and shot me a knowing smirk before tossing me a bottle of lube. I slicked my palm and slowly stroked, my frustration abating little by little.
Still, whatever beast in me that had created this character of the dragon roared in need. It demanded that I dismiss these men and keep Charlotte all to myself. It clawed at me, urging me to take her hard and make her come so many times, she’d forget any of them ever touched her.
Fuck, it was hot.
Dean gave Charlotte a few easy pumps before he drove in all the way. She screamed in shock and pain, and I kept a close eye on her hand for the signal while his hips slapped against her ass. She didn’t give it, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was all right.
“Princess,” I said, and she jerked her head free to look me in the eye. “I’m checking on you.”
Through panting breaths, she moaned, “I want more.”
I nodded to the man currently holding her hair. “You heard her.”
He directed her mouth back to its former duties.
I tried to hold on for as long as I could. I tried to make it last; stopped to drink something, pick at some food. I focused my attention for a long while on the men who’d already finished. Some of them availed themselves of the banquet, others stayed involved, reaching out to grope Charlotte, cheering on her partners.
The knight in Charlotte’s mouth thrust balls-deep into her throat and shouted, neck cording. She gagged and pulled back, cum dribbling down her chin.
“Fuck, this is tight,” Dean laughed, his voice strained as he pounded into her. “I’m going to fucking come, baby. I’m gonna fill your ass up with this load.”
I reached for my dick, and only a few tugs brought me way too close. I stopped touching myself and clenched my fists; maybe this was payback for the way I’d forced her to edge all day.
She wasn’t being denied anymore. The dildo in her pussy pounded faster. Another participant took up the vibrator. She screamed, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” and thrashed in Dean’s grip. He was too strong. There was no way to escape the sensation, even as she clawed her fingernails against the tabletop.
Dean slammed deep and I watched, entranced, as Charlotte sobbed in pain and the grip of her continued climax.
“Let me have next,” Dante said, slapping Dean on the back. “I’ve been waiting for this pussy all day.”
Dean withdrew, breathing hard, and grabbed some of the wipes from the table to clean up. When he moved aside, Dante took his place. “Turn over, baby girl. I want to see your face while I’m fucking you.”
“Get her clothes off,” a voice suggested.
If anyone other than Dante had picked up the knife with the intent to use it on Charlotte, I would have shut it down right then. But I knew him well enough that I didn’t have to doubt his intent.
When Charlotte flopped to the table, trembling with exhaustion, he rolled her onto her back and slid the blade beneath the last remnants of the dress, cutting upward to protect her. Hands tugged the sleeve from her free arm, and Dante peeled the sopping garment down her shackled one until the other half of the gown hung from the chain. She was completely naked now, her tiara askew, hair wild as it fell from the braid that had been loosened by numerous sets of hands.
The huge dildo still protruded from her cunt. Gently, Dante eased it out and stepped back, his gaze fixed between her legs. “I bet you’re getting sore.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “I still want to please you, Sir Dante.”
I smiled at that. Sure, I might never get to her participate in a “nerdy” game of D he sat apart from the rest of the men, enjoying his meal and the entertainment with an expression of wry humor.
It was a testament to Dante’s charisma that none of the other knights touched her or used her mouth while he took her. But all eyes were on him and Charlotte as they fucked. Part of the fantasy for some of the participants was undoubtedly having access to a defenseless woman as an object.
For Dante, I think it was the performance. His attention was focused entirely on her. He whispered things to her that no one else caught, that even I tried not to overhear because it seemed too private. Just between the two of them. And he held her gaze while she trembled beneath him, whimpering as his slow, deep strokes brought her closer and closer to the edge.
I recognized the signs of his impending orgasm before he said, “Are you ready to come for me, baby girl?”
All she could do was moan.
“We’re going to do this together, remember?” He was losing his rhythm, but not his concentration on her. “Can you do that for me? Can this pussy squeeze every last drop out of me while you’re coming?”
“Hurry!” she urged, arching her back.
He flicked the switch on the vibrator pressed between them. One of her legs kicked out, and she moaned loud and long while he grunted, muscles strained, and froze with his cock buried in her to the hilt.
I came too. I didn’t even touch my cock. There was no way to prevent the surging pleasure. I couldn’t get my hand to my shaft in time and erupted all over my lap, my cock bobbing in helpless frustration.
I supposed I deserved that, after the torment I’d put her through all day.
I reached for some wipes and cleaned up as best as I could while the next knights took their places. It all became a blur, but not from the wine. The tender exchange between Dante and Charlotte illuminated the contrast between the debauchery from before, and that debauchery returned with a vengeance.
I lost count of how many of the men fucked her pussy or her ass. I watched her writhe helplessly as she rode Leif’s huge cock while taking another dick up her ass. Rafe came back for seconds, of a sort, jerking off onto her tits while another knight pounded her cunt. It went on and on, and though I checked in on her and waited for her signal, she never gave it.
The men who’d completely finished ate and drank and chatted. Some of them excused themselves after profusely thanking me, while Charlotte still moaned and cried and came.
It had been hours. Hours of getting fucked in every available orifice, hours of relentless orgasms inflicted on her vulnerable body, of taking twenty cocks, satisfying twenty men, before she finally cried out, “Mercy, my dragon!”
The man who’d finished with her stepped back. The rest of the knights followed suit. I stood and moved to unlatch the shackle around her wrist. She blinked up at me with tear-glazed eyes in her sticky face and asked, “Did I please you, my dragon?”
“You did, princess,” I said gently. “And are you pleased?”
She nodded weakly, an elated smile on her lips. “That was…incredible.”
I helped her sit up, but it was immediately clear that she would not be able to walk on her own.
Shame coursed through me. Shame that I knew was undeserved, because it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t carry her. My arms ached to, though, to lift her up and hold her against my chest and carry her off to tend to her.
Dante was at my side in an instant and said, low, “Do you want some help?”
No, I didn’t want help. I wanted to be able to carry my girlfriend back to the house by myself. But I nodded and managed to choke out, “Thank you.”
“Come on, I’ve got you,” Dante—no, in this context, in the way he was helping me out, he was my friend Alex—lifted her into his arms the way I desperately wanted to.
“Go ahead,” I said, nodding toward the doors. As I followed them, hating every step, I addressed the remaining guests. “Thank you, gentlemen, truly. This was a shared fantasy between Charlotte and I, and obviously it wouldn’t have been possible without your participation.”
I barely heard the smattering of thank-yous in response. It was one thing to need to involve other people in a fantasy. It was another thing altogether to not be able to provide the kind of aftercare you wanted to provide your sub after that fantasy had been acted out.
The cart waited at the bottom of the stairs outside. Alex stood beside it, still holding Charlotte, who appeared to be dozing off. It was no wonder; I’d never seen anyone do what she’d done in there.
“Get in,” Alex said, and once I did, he surprised me by settling Charlotte in my lap. “I’ll ride with you, and we can get her into the house.”
I swallowed my self-pity the moment Charlotte’s head lolled onto my shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers curling around a lapel of my jacket. She toyed with it absently, silent as the driver took us back to the house.
Alex carried her in and to my bedroom, asked if I needed anything else, and believed me when I said I didn’t. That was more important to me than I think he understood; it had been a long time since I’d been able to tell someone I was fine on my own and had them believe me.
When he left, Charlotte, struggling to keep her eyes open, said, “The sheets… I’m gross.”
“Don’t worry about the sheets. We can wash them,” I promised.
“I need a shower.” But she couldn’t push herself up from the bed. “I’m so—”
“Exhausted,” I supplied for her firmly. “If you don’t stay there in that bed, your dragon will be very displeased.”
A sleepy smile touched her lips. “Okay, but I still feel gross.”
“Your dragon can take care of that,” I promised. “Give me a minute.”
I left her in the bed and went to the kitchen, where I found a large bowl in one of the cupboards. I took it to the master bath, filled it with hot water, then made a secondary trip for soap and a mound of towels and washcloths.
I’d had enough sponge baths in the hospital that I could pull one off for someone else, no problem. When I touched the damp cloth to her cheek, her eyes fluttered open.
I hushed her preemptively. “You sleep. I’ll clean.”
“That was amazing,” she said, her throat hoarse. “I can’t believe we did that.”
We. That was exactly what I’d hoped for, without realizing it. I’d wanted her to know that this was between the two of us, despite twenty other people being involved. We’d done it for each other.
“Did I get through all twenty?” she asked.
“You did. In one way or another.” I dropped the soapy washcloth on the floor and wetted a fresh one with clean water, gently wiping her face. Traces of makeup remained, but she could do a more thorough job of it in the morning. “Some of them, you did twice.”
“I feel like my vagina and my asshole are going to fall out,” she said, and I laughed along with her at her crude words.
“They both deserve a break,” I agreed.
She shook her head adamantly. “I could fuck you right now, Matt. I want you so bad.”
“You can want all you like, but you need to rest.” I moved on to her neck. The dried cum in her hair was another job for tomorrow, but I could help get some of it off her throat and shoulders, at least.
“At one point, I didn’t even realize the other men were there,” she went on, wonder in her voice. “It was like you were doing all those things to me through them. But it wasn’t enough. It’s like… I crave you. I know that sounds silly.”
“It doesn’t.” I soaped up another cloth and moved on to her breasts, mottled red from stubble and groping, stained with wine. “I feel the same way about you. Like I’m never going to get enough.”
Once her breasts and belly were clean, I rearranged the blankets to cover her top half so she wouldn’t get chilled. I gave her thighs a nudge. “Let’s check out the damage.”
Her vulva was puffy, her opening swollen. Her clit and labia were an angry, abraded red. I gave a low whistle. “I should have stopped you before you hurt yourself.”
“I liked hurting myself,” she corrected me. “You have to trust me to stop when I want to stop.”
“You’re right. You did stop when you wanted to.” I gently dabbed her still-leaking cunt with the cloth and she flinched.
When I moved on to her backside, she grimaced and covered her eyes. “This might be too personal.”
“Stop,” I said, commanding but gentle. When I pulled the cloth away, there was a small streak of vivid red. “We’re going to give anal a break for a while.”
“Is it that bad?” she asked, concerned.
I shook my head. “You’re bleeding a little. You’re a beginner. I’m not surprised you’d have a small tear or two after multiple rounds. You took a lot of dick up there tonight.”
She snorted a giggle. “Wow, you make it sound so sexy when you put it like that.”
“Some parts of aftercare aren’t sexy, sorry.” I got a fresh cloth to work on her thighs and calves, and when I was finished, I was too tired to deal with the mess. The cleaners could tend to it in the morning. I tucked Charlotte back in properly and got her water and ibuprofen from the bathroom.
“Take these, drink all of this,” I instructed.
She pushed herself up enough to sip the water and take the pills, then waved me off. “I’m not drinking all of it. I’ll worry about hydration in the morning.”
“In the morning, we’ll be on a plane,” I reminded her.
My heart leaped into my throat. In the morning, we’d be on a plane, in the evening, we’d be back in New York. And I would have seven days to prove I was worthy of keeping her.
If I lost her now, I would never recover.