Chapter 3
Emmy came out of a lust-filled dream when Spence’s alarm chimed softly.
Before either of them could move, the door opened and Zander entered, his timing perfect. He often arrived shortly after they woke, but showing up now made Emmy’s already-primed clit throb in anticipation because it was always fun when Zander arrived before they were out of bed.
“Good morning,” Zander said, already undressing with efficient grace. Within seconds, he was slipping into the bed, boxing Emmy between warm wolf and cool vampire.
“Morning,” Emmy murmured, rolling toward him. His lips found hers, the kiss slow and unhurried, cool tongue stroking hers in deliberate possession that made her inner walls flutter and ache.
Kiss her shoulder, she heard Zander tell Spence. Love her from behind.
Spence pressed against her back, his morning hardness evident against her ass.
“Sleep well?” Zander asked, his fingers tracing a nipple, circling until it peaked hard and aching.
“Always.” She arched into his touch, then Spence’s as he nuzzled her neck, teeth grazing her pulse point in gentle bites that sent sparks racing down her spine. “You finish what you were working on?”
“Mmm. Chance has found us a few flock candidates, and Kendra approves. Security ran the background checks, and I wanted to look everything over before they’re officially signed on.” His hand slid lower, cupping her ass and squeezing possessively. “Tedious, but necessary.”
Spence’s warm hands slid over her hips, pulling her tighter against his erection. Emmy’s breath caught, heat pooling between her thighs, the contrast of cool vampire and warm wolf overwhelming her senses.
Spence kissed the back of her neck and said, “I have a nine o’clock meeting to prepare for this week’s auction, Sir. Three hours.”
“Plenty of time,” Zander said, and dipped his fingers between her legs, circling her clit with deliberate slowness that made her hips buck. “So wet already,” he said, his quiet voice rough with approval. “Our dragon wakes hungry.”
He shifted her, lifting her top leg, pressing her back more against Spence’s chest.
Spence’s throbbing cock nudged her ass, and Zander’s hand slicked lube over him with efficient strokes that drew a muffled groan from their wolf. “Inside her ass,” Zander ordered softly. “Once you’re seated, you hold still. No thrusting.”
Spence obeyed, pressing in inch by inch, the stretch burning sweet as he filled her, his hot length dragging against sensitive nerves until she gasped, body yielding around him in waves of pleasure-pain.
He seated deep, hips flush against her ass, and stilled with his breath ragged against her neck, his cock pulsing inside her, but unmoving. His submission absolute.
Zander lifted her top leg higher, hooked it over his arm, and entered her in one hard thrust, a single claiming stroke that buried him to the hilt.
Emmy cried out, the dual fullness shattering: Spence’s heat locked deep in her ass, Zander’s cool length pounding her pussy in relentless rhythm, each slam dragging fire over her clit and nerves.
Pleasure built in waves, coiling towards a breaking point.
Zander drove into her with inhuman power, battering that spot inside her until the first orgasm crashed through her like wildfire, walls clenching wild around him, ass squeezing Spence in rhythmic spasms that drew desperate moans from their wolf.
Zander didn’t slow, but pounded harder, the rhythmic slap of skin echoing sharp until her second release crested and broke, convulsing her body in endless waves that left her gasping, nails digging into Zander’s shoulders as pleasure bordered agony.
Midway through, Spence thrust once, and Zander’s voice cracked sharp through the air. “Still, boy,” he growled. Spence froze, a whimper muffled against her neck, submission flooding back absolute.
The third orgasm detonated — shattering, infinite, her cries echoing as walls spasmed in violent pulses, milking Zander until he followed with a guttural snarl, cool seed flooding her in claiming jets that prolonged the bliss into oblivion.
They stilled, tangled and spent, Zander easing out gently before he ordered Spence, “Assume the position, boy.”
You’re going to punish him? Emmy telepathed Zander when she saw Spence bent over the bed without touching it, his hands locked behind his head, face locked on the far wall.
He disobeyed. It’s rare, but it happens. This will be consequences, not punishment, since I don’t believe he willfully disobeyed.
Zander retrieved a fiberglass cane from the armoire and, without a word, walked to them and landed a single, precise stroke across Spence’s sit-spot.
The sharp crack raised a bloody welt that made their wolf yelp and arch, and the scent of his pain and chagrin bloomed into the room.
He was mortified that he’d failed to follow orders, and Emmy picked up hints of more self-recrimination than she was comfortable with, but she remained silent, knowing Zander would scent it as well.
Zander stood Spence up and pulled him into his arms. “Consequences, boy. Not punishment. I know you’ll do better next time, and I’ll give you an assignment, to help.
Edge yourself six times today, in three sessions.
Jack yourself with your hand, and keep your hips absolutely still.
Right to the edge of coming, and then stop.
If your memory shows me you’ve learned, I’ll allow you an orgasm during tonight’s feeding frenzy. ”
Spence’s breath hitched, arousal flaring despite his pain and denial, or maybe because of it.
Emmy felt sympathy for him, but fully approved of Zander’s decree. Reinforcing Spence’s submission was important, and denial added the edge Spence needed to feel as if he truly belonged to them.
Well done, she telepathed Zander after he’d pulled her into a kiss. It’s nice that we have similar training styles.
It is, Zander telepathed back, his eyes sparkling, and then he was gone, no doubt off to handle whatever adventures the uber-powerful vampires were getting up to.
“Start the shower, please,” Emmy told Spence, and he met her gaze with a nod, his eyes dark with devotion and lingering need, his cock still hard and denied.
“Of course, ma’am.”
Emmy soaped Spence’s back, the steam rising around them as the water cascaded hot. “Submissives need to keep learning,” she said softly. “Even the skilled ones.”
He leaned into her touch. “I like to think I’m well-trained, but I know you’re right, ma’am.”
“Oh, you are exquisite, Spence. Absolutely perfect, even when you fuck up, and I adore you.”
She ran her hand along the blood red welt, then turned him around and held his balls in her hand without squeezing.
“Once we’re in Anchorage,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek, “when you’re not so buried in work, I’m looking forward to exploring some role-play ideas — the food scene from Nine and a Half Weeks immediately comes to mind, but also …
I really enjoy having orgasms in public.
Do you think you can get me off in subtle ways, so no one realizes what you’re doing?
While we’re eating out, or sitting in a park, perhaps in a movie theater? ”
His smile was quiet, but she could sense the devotion and honesty in his words. “I look forward to it, ma’am.”
Love practically vibrated between them, and she pulled him into her arms and just held him for a few minutes — and then let him wash and condition her hair. It’d become part of the routine, one that fit them both perfectly.
The days blurred into a rhythm Emmy had come to crave but was desperate to escape.
Ten-hour days at her desk, noise-canceling headphones blocking the world while she refined her breakthrough into something publishable.
The genetic sequences were there, the data solid, but writing it up required precision the research portion hadn’t necessitated.
Professor Chen’s voice echoed in her head every time she revised: Show your work.
Prove your conclusions. Make it bulletproof.
Spence appeared every couple of hours with a snack — protein bars, fruit, sandwiches, and once, a whole pound of fresh-roasted chicken.
Evenings were feeding frenzies in the theater.
She’d lost count of how many vampires had fucked her on stage or over a table in the audience, fed from her throat or thigh or wrist while she performed her role as willing vessel.
Their cold, powerful images blurred together, but it didn’t matter.
She continued to find vast pleasure in it, the exhibitionism that made her clit throb and her inhibitions dissolve — and often, the faux rapes she’d discovered just absolutely work for her.
And then the late nights, the intimacy of sleeping with Spence, the power to fuck him whenever she wanted, or to order him to fuck her.
Or, perhaps her new favorite, ordering him to go down on her while he was left without touch.
He loved doing it, and she loved the command it gave her.
Dominion over her very own submissive, and best of all, he was so fucking strong.
A power in his own right, choosing to submit.
Not to mention the couple of mornings per week that Zander came before they had time to get out of bed, when the threesome got to learn and figure out completely new configurations of their triangle.
And then, once a week, time in the Lupanar. No matter where they were, though, always with that telepathic thread connecting all three so she could feel Spence’s submission and Zander’s satisfaction as clearly as her own arousal.
She’d never been this settled, but still, she was losing her mind.
The problem wasn’t the routine or the sex or even the work. The problem was the darkness .
Or rather, being underground, trapped away from normal circadian rhythms, never seeing the sky brighten and darken.
Artificial light just wasn’t doing it for her, and now, she couldn’t even go to the Aurora Ballroom to see sunlight filtered through glass.