Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SIRE
“You sure about this?” Grant asks before hissing a sip of whisky over his teeth.
“You saw where we found her.” I’m drinking water. I want to be fully sober for this. “You saw where she came from, too, and the hell she went through.”
Axel solemnly adds, “And then her childhood? Man, I can’t stop thinking about how cruel some were to her.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Exactly. Wren went from having no one to being my wife. She’ll have me forever, but I need her to trust you all, too. She’s afraid she’ll lose us.”
Thoughtfully, Jace nods. “You want us to make her feel it. How we care for her.”
“Yeah.” I turn to Nash. He’s oddly quiet. “You okay with this, bro? This is what she wants. You’ll be her second king, and it starts tonight. This is her test. Next week, we initiate her.”
“I’ll always be here for her.” Nash leans forward, opening his hands. “You know I will.”
“I’m loyal to Alena,” Loch explains. “But you know I’ll always serve our queens.”
My eyes slice to Grant, stifling a brotherly grin.
Grant let Delphine transform Loch from a closeted virgin into a skilled pleasure Dom. All so Loch could become Delphine’s second king, and long before Loch professed his love for Alena.
Nick and Zar share a chair. Cheekily, Zar adds, “We’re here for immoral support, of course.”
I raise my water glass to my second queen. Zar always lifts the mood.
Reclining on black leather sofas and chairs, we’re illuminated by two red neon bunny lights in a private VIP room of The Rabbit Hole.
A white faux rabbit fur blanket covers a low platform.
Mirrors line two walls. A black sex swing dangles from gold chains, swaying from the center ceiling.
Low acrylic tables supply condoms, lube, toys, and more.
I called ahead with special requests. Given my history in this Atlanta fetish club, they go to great lengths to please me.
Delphine is with Wren, getting her ready at the hotel. They’re on their way while my emotions threaten to end this night.
Possession. Passion. Protection. Perversion. Desire and the divine. It’s a war inside me.
I’m not sure I can fully share Wren, but I’m sure she needs this.
Outside the cousins’ brewery, I’ve never seen her so afraid. Tragically, she wasn’t as scared when I rescued her from a sex trafficking ring, or when we hunted down her captor, and she shot him.
No, Wren was fearless then.
But she’s terrified she’ll lose me now. That something will happen to me, and my family will abandon her. I understand. As a child, almost every night, I feared I’d lose my mom.
So, tonight is more than an erotic test for Wren. A prelude to her initiation. A taste of our carnal tradition.
This is proof. Vows made with flesh. Penetrating promises. A covenant of carnal bonds. Sacred sin.
Forever, Wren is mine.
Always, my brothers will care for her.
Some bonds last a lifetime.
She’ll feel it tonight.
“So, we go slow with her and take turns.” I pop my neck. Goddamn, this is true love because murder itches through my veins, even as I demand on Wren’s behalf, “Whatever she wants, we do it. And if you hurt her—”
“Off with our heads.” Grant stretches. “Got it.”
“Condoms,” I bark.
“Check,” they reply.
“Consent.”
They nod.
I slice my eyes over the soaring landscape of black-suited kings, my beastly brothers. I trust them, but still… “Do not come in MY wife.”
“What about on her?” Jace smirks. He’s a hidden devil. “She really liked it last time.”
“Fine,” I hiss. “But don’t do it in her eyes. Cum stings.”
Nick and Zar chuckle while Axel jokes, “Why yes, our proud bi brother, we’ll take your word for it.”
I smirk. “Like I didn’t impress you at our party with The Six.”
“Like you wouldn’t impress a group of silver-backed gorillas.” Nash’s eyes glimmer, amused. “Goddamn, man. You’re a National Geographic documentary on breeding in captivity.”
Our laughter almost drowns out the knock on the door before Delphine enters, holding Wren’s hand.
Lightning jolts my heart at the sight of my stunning wife, wearing a white silk robe and matching heels.
She’s biting her plump, glossy lip. I know her body.
I was her first. I’ll be her last. I know when Wren’s aroused.
Curious. Nervous. Her long lashes blink, adjusting to the red-lit room until they find my eyes.
Proudly, she gives me her smile, and love has a heartbeat. It’s living, breathing, changing, and growing even stronger inside me. How is it possible to love Wren even more, because I do?
My Iron Angel.
My, how your wings have grown.
Delphine leads her to the center of the room. Gently sliding Wren’s robe off her shoulders, she demands, “Be great for her, my kings.”
I’m an animal.
Unleashed.
Untamed.
Unworthy.
I shouldn’t be allowed to have a wife that glowing and so goddamn beautiful.
My swelling, possessive dick strongly agrees.
Wren’s ripe breasts perch over a white silk underbust corset. They’re not covered. Her dark, rouge nipples pointing proud and high.
I swallow down a growl at the naughty spot on her white silk panties. She’s ready and swollen. Wren’s pussy is already wet.
Fuucckk.
No.
I pounce to my feet, roaring, “We’re done! She passed the test.”
Suddenly, I’m not into the initiation thing, test thing, group thing, public thing, breeding thing, or anything with any human but Wren.
That convent on a cliff in Italy is our next stop.
“Oh, non!” Delphine wags her finger at me. “Your queen knows what she wants.” Smiling with Wren, she turns her around, presenting her backside.
Goosebumps bloom over Wren’s sweet ass. Her tawny skin a beacon with that white bunny tail anal plug begging for my mount.
Dear God, I’ll pay my penance and answer my prayers in that pussy. That ass. That body.
That woman who saved my soul.
Looking over her shoulder, Wren smiles, shaking her bunny tail at me. “Pastor Rutledge, I’m ready for you.”
She’s playing a game.
I’m not.
In four feral steps, I whip her around, grab her throat, and slam my lips to hers, swallowing her gasp. Her lips are soft and pliant, but Wren’s will is unbreakable.
Demanding her tongue, I can’t tame hers with mine. Her desire is too strong. She knows what she wants. Fisting my white starched shirt, she grinds into me, rubbing her soaked pussy over my fine dress pants.
We never wear boxers under our dark suits for tests and initiations. It’s to be ready, to show respect for our queens.
I do. I’m ready. I respect my queen.
But I’m about to fuck the living hell out of my wife.
“You’re ready to breed, Angel?” I reach down, ripping her delicate panties off. Silk threads don’t stand a chance against my animal urges. “You want everyone to see what a hungry little pussy you have for my cock? For my cum?”
She pants, “Yes, my sire.”
I slide a finger through her slick lips. “Fucking right, this pussy is mine to fill. Only mine.”
I whip my glare to Nash. “Help me with her.”
He rises, licking his lips. There’s not an erection that can hide in this erotic room, including his.
“Help me lift her and put her in the swing,” I demand.
The swing has three thick, padded straps. One to support Wren’s back. The other for her to sit on. The third strap has two stirrups that can be used for her feet or hands. Either way, the swing lifts her to our height.
Suspended for my use.
Dangling for her pleasure.
Presented for public viewing.
Fuck yes, I planned it this way.
Proudly, Wren lets us situate her, swinging before me. Her long hair, swaying. Her open pussy, glistening. Her bunny tail, maddening.
Falling to my knees, I growl at Nash, “Take a seat and watch me make my wife’s pussy drip for our cocks.”
My angel is so ready.
I press my nose to her clit, inhaling her feminine scent. When I lick, her tangy flavor floods my mouth. Her proud lips swell while I worship her, kissing, laving, fluttering my tongue. Hungrily, I eat her pussy while all watch, and I get to taste how aroused she is.
How open.
How hungry.
This has been her taboo fantasy for months. Confirming it, she grabs my hair, moaning.
“Good girl,” I praise. “Make your pastor taste the heaven in your cunt.”
It’s palpable after minutes of lavishing her hard clit, and curling my fingers inside her tight, slick walls.
It’s audible in the heavy breaths of others, watching as Wren shamelessly gazes down, fisting my hair and panting at the sight of me devouring her pussy.
It’s visible when I tell her, “Now, be a good girl and show them how your pussy loves to squirt on your pastor’s face.”
Brutally, I pound my fingers inside her clenching cunt. Together, we’ve taught her pussy how to do this. Her thighs shake as she screams, throwing her head back, rattling the swing’s chains with her first orgasm.
Her gushing desire leaves no doubt, her juices flooding my mouth. Proudly, I swallow her cum, letting some drip down my chin before I slowly rise, lowering my zipper.
No warning. No tender nothings. I growl, “Now, let’s make this tight, squirting pussy come on your pastor’s cock.”
I drive my aching dick inside her, and she cries out, “Yes, Sire!”
“You want it rough, Angel?” Grabbing the gold chains holding the swing, I lean over her, crudely gliding my cum-slick lips over hers. “You want me to breed you, hard?”
“Yes,” she pants. “Yes, fuck me. Fill me with your cum.”
“If you can survive my fuck…” Savagely, I thrust into her cunt, and she moans. “Then you can take all five of us, can’t you, Angel?”
“Yes,” she rasps, her eyes rolling back with pleasure.
It’s a true test. Grabbing Wren’s hips—satin, silk, and soft flesh filling my grasp—I unleash, relishing her pulsing, wet heat. I’m an animal fucking her harder than I ever have. I may even bruise her, but I’ll never break her.
I believe her now.
Wren loves me. Accepts me. Wants me. Needs me to love her, and with all my soul, I do. I’m hers. She’s mine. I’ll never leave her, and I will make sure she’ll never be alone again.
A testament to her need, she pulls on the straps, lifting to kiss me while I hammer my hips, driving deep inside her. Our lips meet with her heavenly gasps rising higher and taking me with her. We’re climbing to the edge together.
White heat coils tight at my spine. Blood builds, swelling my heart, my cock. I could die right now, a complete man inside her.
“You’re such a good girl.” I press my forehead to hers. “You like this, don’t you? Wanting me to fuck you so hard.”
Her lips shake. “Yes, Sire.”
“Show my brothers how you love my fuck. How you play with your pussy for me every morning, driving me crazy to fuck you, don’t you? How you’re a naughty girl, fucking a dildo while you suck my dick. How you love my cock in your ass now.”
“Yes.” Her eyes roll. “Yes, I’m such a slut for you. Please, Sire, show them.”
Damn me to hell; you’ll find me fucking her there.
My thighs shake. So do my lips. I’m right here with her. Always with Wren. She’s every reason I breathe. Why I live. Why I can’t stop. I won’t stop. She’s my life and death.
“You’re going to take my cum, all of it. You’re such a good girl, letting me breed you.” This instinct, I need to fulfill it. Like my life depends on it. Why? “I want to see you swollen with me.”
“Yes.” She grabs the base of my throbbing cock, squeezing. “Don’t you dare pull out. Give me all your babies.” It’s the point of no return. She knows how to make my fall from grace so devilish and divine. “Yes, Pastor. Fill my pussy with your warm cum. Do it.”
“Fuucckk, Wren.” She grabs me, owns me, yanking me over the edge.
I grunt, pressing my huffing lips to hers, my fists holding the straps, afraid my body will fall as hard as my heart has for her. My dick comes so fucking hard inside her. With another pulse, I spurt again. “Fuck, I love you.” And again, grunting, spurting, I open my eyes to watch.
To pull out.
To worship.
My pearly cum drips from her pink pussy. Her ripe cream coats my swollen cock. Proudly, I want all to see it.
I leave my dick out, exposed, as I walk around the swing and grab her from behind, kneading her nipple while I reach down, strumming her clit.
“Open your eyes, Angel.” I taunt her ear. “Look at my brothers and show them how you come when you feel my cum dripping from your pussy.”