8. Killian
Chapter eight
Killian
“Not very honorable, doc.” I tut, patting him on the shoulder condescendingly. “But good on you for making a choice.”
He tries to rip out from under my touch, but I’m already moving away from him, crossing the room to pick Ivy up by the hair. Having my fingers tangle in the mess of red feels as natural as breathing, and I use the grip to pull her from Monty’s lap and force her to her knees in front of her husband. I’m sure she’s been in this position a thousand times—hell, she probably lives on her knees. I’ve seen the way she worships cock and how well she swallows it. The bruises on her legs are probably from all the time she’s spent in this position with her husband in her throat.
“She’s so fucking pretty like that.” Monty says, getting to his feet and coming round to lean an elbow on Cody’s shoulder, watching with his chin in his hand.
Theo grabs one of the bungee cords I left on the entryway table and yanks Ivy’s arms behind her back, looping it around the cuff of her arms a couple times. He’s not as doting as Monty, but he seems to avoid getting too near her injured wrist, favoring her left side a little more gently. It’s what I like about Theo—he’s the perfect midpoint between Monty and me. He’s the gravity that keeps me tethered to reality. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s so fucking beautiful, particularly as he navigates the firecracker that exploded our world years ago.
I don’t bother securing her with a padlock. She’s not gonna have the energy to fight me in a second.
Her pleas fall on deaf ears, the furious sound of her sobs doing nothing to abate the dark desire inside of me. I pin her calf to the ground with my knee, holding her in place as I slip my dick out of my pants and boxers.
“Fuck.” Cody whispers, a little bit of horror mixing with the awe in his voice as he gets a look at me, rock hard and so swollen I’m leaking a little in anticipation.
“For a homophobe, you look awfully interested in my cock.” I laugh, stroking a hand over my length to ease some of the ache there. Cody flushes red, his jaw snapping closed.
“It’s okay,” Monty reassures him, dusting the back of his knuckle over Cody’s cheek. “He’s fucking huge. It’s hard not to stare.”
Ivy whimpers, trying to throw me off the back of her legs. I grant her wish, slipping behind her and pulling her hips to be level with mine as she tries to twist away from me. My dick twitches when her soft skin brushes against the head, and I take in a measured breath, trying to get a little more control of myself. “You made the first choice so well. Let’s see how you do with this one.”
Cody grits his teeth, looking like a dog about to pounce, you know, except for the whole being bound to a dining table chair.
“She’s your wife, so you tell me. Where do you want me to fuck her?” I run a hand over the smooth expanse of her taut stomach, up and down slowly, waiting for an answer. When he doesn’t offer me any kind of response, I slide it upwards, gifting her throat with a quick squeeze to remind her that I control her air supply as much as I control any other part of her. When I shove my fingers into her mouth, she gags, and I rethink my assessment of her deep-throating skills. “You want me to fuck her throat? You want her to taste me? I’ll coat her tongue so good that every time you kiss her, you’ll taste me.”
I laugh at the look of revulsion on his face, disgust mixing with the outrage of his helplessness.
“No?” Monty muses, clearly surprised with that answer. I can’t say I’m surprised by it. There’s something especially intimate about having your girl’s mouth stuffed with another man’s cock, knowing she’s breathing him in, that she’s consuming part of him when his cum spills down her throat, knowing that I can pinch her nose shut and suffocate her on me.
“Her pussy, then?” I slide my hand down her stomach and cup her in my palm, adoring the warmth of her and how silky and hot she is between my fingers. “It’s wet for me, you know? I think your wife is a little bit of a masochist… She wants me to take her, even if she won’t admit it.”
“Fuck you!” Ivy snaps, trying to wriggle out of my grasp. I slip a single finger inside her instead, sinking up to a knuckle in her hot cunt, which clamps around me, trying to force out the intrusion. All she manages to do is embrace me, her body welcoming me in even as she tries to tell me no.
“She’s gripping my finger so hard right now it’s like she’s trying to snap it off.” I moan, slipping out and circling her clit slowly.
She stiffens against me, her shoulders going tight. I think she tries not to breathe as I work her clit, in case she lets out a moan that tells her husband just how much she likes having another man’s hands on her. I admire her effort, but it’s wasted when the moan slips out of her throat, and it’s not entirely full of hate. The pain isn’t the torment of agony, but the betrayal of her own body responding to my touch.
“Oh,” I laugh. “She likes it when I play with her pussy. Do you like it, Cody?”
“No.” Cody snaps, trying to turn his head away. Theo grips his chin roughly in his fingers and guides his face back to the display.
“What about you?” I ask, tilting my head against her cheek so that she can feel the heat of my breath. I want to kiss her hard, sink my teeth into her lip, taste her tears and blood. But I’m not ready to let her in on who we are just yet, so the masks stay on. “You like the feeling of a stranger rubbing your clit? You want me to let you come on my fingers first?”
“N-no.” She sobs, the word coming out strained between her clenched teeth.
“Fine.” I sigh, letting my hand fall away from her pussy. She cries out in relief, the sweetest fucking sound because I know it’s only going to make the hatred about to come that much sweeter. I push her down with the flat of my palm against her spine, angling her head toward the ground. Predictably, her hips push back toward me, and I lick straight up the center of her asshole.
“No!” Her voice quivers a little, like she’s doubting the conviction in her own words. She must realize it, because she tries again; this time more panic crowds out the word. I can practically taste the desperation in her scream as she realizes exactly what’s about to happen. Her hole constricts under my tongue, trying to deny me entry, and I can’t help laughing as I pull away to glance at her husband for assurance. “Ass it is, right, Cody?”
Cody’s shaking so violently, I almost worry for a second that he’s seizing right in front of us. Ivy takes advantage of my moment of hesitation, throwing herself flat on her stomach and scrambling away from me, crawling on her elbows.
She doesn’t get far; all she does is bring us closer to the others, offering them a better view of the pain on her face when I wrap my arm around her thigh, trapping her in place, and sink a dry finger into her ass.
The way her breath stops so suddenly is volatile. She freezes as if she’s been electrocuted, everything in her rigid, her asshole trying to push me out despite the fact that I’ve barely even breached the first barrier with more than a knuckle.
“Fuckkkk.” I groan, unable to help myself as my dick jumps, leaking precum at the stranglehold she has on my finger.
My voice must bring her back to the moment, because she begins to fight like I’ve never seen her do, as if she thinks I’m going to kill her right here and now.
“No, no, no!” Her voice is a chorus of the word, desperate and heavy and shrill as she tries to twist her entire body out from under me.
I can’t help the laugh. “Christ, you’ve never fucked your own wife’s ass?” My eyes flick up to meet Cody’s, which are wide with shock as he watches her fight for her life to no avail. “You’re that homophobic?”
“That’s fucked.” Monty says coldly, disapprovingly. “You’ve never fucked her ass, but you’re going to let him do it for the first time? She won’t be able to sit for a week. Killian’s dick isn’t meant for first-timers.”
“She’ll stretch,” Theo assures him, though he licks his lips nervously, the tip of his tongue flashing beneath the mouth hole, like he’s starting to doubt the truth of that claim.
“She’ll tear.” Monty says, leaning forward like he’s trying to appeal to me. “We’ll have to take her to the hospital for stitches.”
“Her husband’s a surgeon. He can just fix it, right, doc?”
Cody shakes his head, suddenly pale. It’s a sharp contrast to the brick-red color from earlier. “No.”
“Well, you chose this.” I remind him, forcing her to stay still beneath me again and slipping my finger out before adding another and thrusting back in.
I do her the kindness of doing it all in one go, blowing past the ring of muscle that controls her sphincter and breaking into her ass. Her scream is guttural but short-lived.
I feel the sweat break out over her skin, her body going clammy as I pull her back against me, sitting her over my hand so that she has nowhere to go, no way to ease me out of her. She’s completely under my control, and I guess she finally is capable of recognizing it because she stops fighting me, stops squirming, and stops making sounds altogether.
A triumphant smirk pulls at my lips, and I glance at Cody, making sure he’s witnessing his wife’s submission.
But when she falls back against me, limp, all sense of triumph disappears.