38. Valentin
38
VALENTIN
For the first time in my life, I was jealous. Angelo and I had never pretended to be monogamous—we were partners because we loved each other, no matter that we couldn’t fully satisfy each other’s sexual needs. But watching Ana sit on his lap, accepting his control over her body and trusting him to feed her?
Every moment she submitted was another crack in Angelo’s armor, letting in peace where only pain dared before.
Angelo’s eyes slid over to me as he fed our toy, gauging my interest. His fingers curled around her waist, as if he could see the grim direction of my thoughts.
Tomorrow, she’d be back to her usual antics. She’d been so fucking right about the Costas’ obligations to their people, and we’d been too wrapped up in our new toy to take advantage of her skills and connections. And Ana would tug on that thread until she unraveled us entirely. Or until I cut it.
“That’s my perfect little slut,” Angelo said, leaning hard on the degradation. “Opening those perfect lips I can’t wait to see wrapped around Valentin’s cock after we eat.”
Ana shifted in his lap, clenching her thighs together, and my cock hardened. She sucked the sauce off the chopsticks Angelo offered her, but when her eyes flicked to mine, she didn’t double down on the seduction, instead smiling shyly, as if she were hoping for my approval. Mon dieu , she had it.
“Ana,” I rasped. “Are you being a good girl for Angelo?”
“For both of you, ma?tre ,” she breathed before opening her mouth obediently for another bite.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I moved my chair closer to Angelo’s, picked up a piece of chicken with my own chopsticks and held it out to her. Satisfaction filled me when she took it without hesitation or complaint. This wouldn’t last—it couldn’t—but we would enjoy the moment of tranquility while we could.
“Sir, I’m getting full. For real this time,” she murmured.
Angelo eyed his and my plates. “Two more bites, sweet angel, and then dessert.”
She nodded, and obediently opened her mouth again. Ana’s shoulders were relaxed, and for once, her eyes glimmered with pleasure rather than fury.
“I really am full,” she said. “That was delicious.” She paused for a long moment, her face conflicted. I loved that she was relaxed enough to show us her true emotions, that she trusted us enough to take down her mask, even if it was only for a night. “Thank you for dinner.”
She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, as if steadying herself for what was to come next.
I steeled myself for her sharp tongue.
“Thank you for making me eat, sir.” She leaned forward to kiss Angelo’s jaw. “Thank you for feeding me, ma?tre .” Her eyes flicked to mine. “Thank you both.”
This woman. This fucking woman. I held her eyes as I adjusted my cock, and to my delight, her breath caught when her gaze followed my hand.
Submitting and admitting we turned her on. Wonders never cease.
Her eyes followed me as I pulled the ramekins of crème br?lée from the fridge.
“Does watching Valentin turn you on, sweet angel?” Angelo asked. “Knowing he’s made this for you and that he’s going to feed you?”
I lit the blow torch, my cock hard as rock in my pants as I anticipated feeding the dessert to Ana, her full lips wrapped around the spoon, her tongue curling around the custard.
Fuck.
The blowtorch hit the counter as I whirled around. “Strip, princess.”
Angelo raised an eyebrow, but didn’t contradict me.
If I waited to see her naked, I’d bend her over the table and fuck her right there, and tonight was about rewarding her for obedience, not slaking my unreasonable lust.
“Sit on Angelo’s lap, thighs spread over his,” I commanded. Without a word, Ana obeyed, spreading her legs and opening herself up to me. My mouth watered at the sight of her pussy, soaking wet. I showed her the clamps I’d pulled out of my pocket, and her pussy pulsed.
“Filthy slut,” Angelo murmured in her ear, “hot for us to play with, and eager for pain.”
Ana dropped her head back over his shoulder, arching her back and presenting her breasts to me. Unable to resist, I bent my head to nibble on her skin, the sinful taste of her exploding on my tongue. She moaned and clutched at my head, digging into my scalp and sending need shooting through me.
I teased her with my tongue, sucking hard, then biting until her nipple was swollen and red. She cried out when I affixed the clothespin-like clamp, moaning when I took her taut bud between my lips and sucked again, teasing the clamp with my tongue until she was a whining, writhing mess.
When both nipples were squeezed tight between the metal tines, I pulled two tiny weights out of my pockets.
“Hold out your hand.”
She did, and I nipped her forefinger with my teeth before dropping them into her palm, the metal balls and chains clacking against each other as she trembled.
“I’m going to attach these to the clamps,” I said. Her breath shuddered, turning unsteady.
“They hurt,” she gasped, “so much.”
“They’ll hurt more in a moment,” I told her. I took a weight and opened the hook at the end, threading it through the ring at the bottom of the clamp. She gasped when I took my hand away, her eyes glazing over with lust and pain. When I finished with her other nipple, I stepped back and admired my work, red and distended between the prongs of the clamps that tugged them downward.
Ana whined and shifted in Angelo’s lap. He held her thighs open with his hands, keeping her drenched pussy exposed to me.
“Don’t move, princess,” I murmured, and stepped away.
Angelo laughed quietly at her moan, but she didn’t protest, just draped herself over him, breathing hard, trying not to disturb the clamps.
Angelo reached around her to flick at the balls and she whined in protest. “No, please, don’t.”
He slapped the sensitive inside of her thigh. “Say that again?”
“Sorry, sir,” she whispered. “It hurts.”
“Good. It’s supposed to, slut,” I said, before returning to the kitchen to caramelize the creamy tops of the crème br?lée, then fetched two spoons.
Ana would be my dessert.
I set the dishes on the table. “Scoot forward and rest one hand on the table,” I commanded her.
She moaned as the motion jostled the weights, swinging them forward so they dangled straight down, instead of over the lower curve of her breast and stomach.
“Now, eat.”
Ana’s eyes widened. I moved to the floor and crawled to her, kneeling between her thighs, then wrapped my arms around her hips and dragged her pelvis forward. I dropped a kiss on Angelo’s knees, then licked a stripe up her thigh, inhaling the scent of her.
“Eat, Ana,” I repeated, my voice gravelly and low as I approached her core, glistening with the evidence that she loved everything we did to her.
Angelo kissed and nibbled at her neck, drawing the sweetest whimpers and moans out of her. When I pushed her thighs even further apart to wedge my shoulders between them, she gasped, then let out an animal moan, deep and primal, as I ran the flat of my tongue up the center of her core.
“ Ma?tre ,” she breathed.
“Eat, beautiful toy,” Angelo murmured. “I’ve never seen Valentin on his knees for anyone before. Show him how much you appreciate it so he can reward you for being a good girl.”
I ran my tongue over her clit, then circled it.
“And if I don’t?” she gasped.
“Then I’ll punish you for being a bad one,” I said against her clit, then nipped it with my front teeth.
She cried out, and I couldn’t tell whether it was in pain or pleasure.
I wrapped my hands around her hips and explored her folds, delicately, gently, as if she were a rare delicacy, meant to be savored rather than devoured, even if devouring her was what I ached to do.
“But you want to be our good girl, don’t you? Our perfect fucktoy, for us to use and hurt however we please?” Angelo said.
Ana moaned, but didn’t make a move to eat her dessert. I drew back, and she whined her protest.
“I’m only going to eat when you do.”
Ana dutifully scooped a spoon into the crème and lifted it to her mouth.
I dove back between her legs, eager to draw more sweet sounds out of our toy, reveling in her responsiveness, the soft whimpers as I played with her pussy— my pussy—and discovered what turned her on.
“You’re so beautiful, open and drenched for us,” I murmured into her folds, before focusing on her clit.
Short, tight taps with my tongue had her writhing in Angelo’s lap, moaning as I held her still.
“Concentrate, angel,” Angelo said into her neck.
“Please, I can’t,” she whined. “It’s too much.”
I sucked hard on her clit and slid a finger into her.
She jerked forward, and the spoon clattered to the table. “Please!”
With a final lick up her center to coat my tongue in her tart juices one last time, I reluctantly pulled away. “I’ll stop.”
“Fuck, no,” she complained. “Please don’t stop. Don’t leave me like this.”
I slid into the seat beside her, admiring her flushed cheeks, the way her nipples were bright red spots of agony on her chest and her pussy was swollen with need.
“Finish eating,” I murmured.
Ana frowned, and I could see her debating whether to brat. I let her stew on the decision for a moment, before leaning forward and picking up the spoon.
I wanted her to look at me with the same trust she gave to Angelo earlier, as if she depended on me entirely for emotional sustenance the way she did him.
Merde. Wanting her was the last thing I needed.
I scooped a spoonful of crème and held it up to her mouth. She leaned forward, her breath turning ragged as the weights pulled on her abused nipples, and then took the spoon between her lips. Her sigh of delight warmed my soul as much as it hardened my cock.
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t need her to want me.
I shouldn’t crave her approval and her appreciation.
“This is delicious, ma?tre ,” she murmured, her lips parted for another bite. Pride suffused me, not in my culinary talents, but that I’d pleased the queen before me. I searched her expression for a hint of cunning, of manipulation, but all I could find was uninhibited pleasure. I fed her another and another, while Angelo held her with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other on her thigh.
After the last bite, she closed her eyes and hummed. “So fucking good,” she murmured. “Thank you, ma?tre ,” she added, her eyes bright and clear.
Anticipation coiled low in my stomach at the night ahead of us. But first, Ana would beg for her punishment.
“It’s my pleasure, princess. Now get on your hands and knees and crawl to the bedroom.”