Chapter 8
Emmy nodded, carefully removed the penis plug, and helped Zander release him, supporting Spence, helping him to the bed, where everything had been removed except the bottom sheet.
Emmy went to her back on the bed, and Zander ordered Spence between her legs and then guided his boy’s cock into her pussy.
“Halfway in, boy. No farther.”
Spence pressed in a short way and stopped, his gaze on her face. She could see the strain, the tension, but she could also feel power thrumming between them like a live wire.
Emmy gasped and wiggled under him, and Spence groaned deep.
Zander connected chains attached to the headboard to Spence’s wrist cuffs before he pressed back into Spence’s asshole and ordered, “Move boy.”
And just like that, Spence went into motion, thrusting — in and out, in and out — the motion driving him back onto Zander and then into her. His face contorted with effort, pleasure-pain twisting, but his eyes stayed on hers, submission burning bright.
Zander ordered him to speed up, to slow down, to move with more power, to slam back onto Zander’s cock with his full strength.
And Spence obeyed every order, powerful thrusts that rocked them all.
And then came the order to, “Make her come, boy. Figure it out and make it happen.”
Emmy’s breath caught at Zander’s command, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.
Spence’s eyes flickered with determination, his body still sheathed inside her, the stretch a delicious burn that made her inner walls flutter around him.
She felt the weight of the moment — the way Spence’s submission fed her dominance even as he took control of this singular task.
Spence adjusted, a subtle tilt of his hips, pulling back an inch before sliding forward again, pulling out and coming in at a different angle, testing.
She arched a little, meeting him, her hands roaming over his chest, fingers digging into the sweat-slicked muscle.
She avoided the clamps for now. They needed a little more time to work before she used them to torture him.
His scent wrapped around her — wolfish musk sharpened by exertion, endorphins, pain, and pleasure. And above it all, the heady spice of need, mirroring her own.
He tried again, slower this time, a deliberate drag that pressed lower, rubbing along her front wall, friction building warmth in her core, making her thighs tense. Emmy bit her lip, suppressing a moan, wanting him to work for it, to earn the sound.
Spence’s brow furrowed in concentration, chains clinking softly as he shifted his weight, angling deeper and up on the next thrust, and a deep moan escaped her chest.
He’d found the spot, and his cockhead nudged at it again, making stars burst in her vision and heat coil tight in her belly. Her breath hitched when he ran over it again, and her pussy clenched around him.
He found a steady rhythm and rubbed over it, again and again — pull back and then thrust in, over and over, dragging over it, and each pass sent jolts of electric pleasure radiating out until it was all-consuming, narrowing her world to the slick heat where they joined, the ache building in her clit without a single touch.
Emotions tangled with the sensation — power in directing him, vulnerability in the surrender to it, love flickering at the edges like a promise. Spence was hers, theirs, and this was proof, his body a conduit for ecstasy between the three.
Her breathing grew ragged, hips bucking up to meet him.
“Don’t stop,” she ordered, voice breaking, the world blurring at the edges until nothing existed but the friction and drag over that spot, pressure mounting like a storm about to break.
Her toes curled, muscles locking, and then it hit, shattering through her like lightning forking across a midnight sky.
Emmy’s orgasm detonated, waves crashing from her core outward, heat flooding her veins in pulsing surges that made her back arch off the bed, and a keening cry tore from her throat.
It was out-of-this-world visceral, infinite pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain, her inner walls spasming wildly around Spence’s cock, milking him in rhythmic clenches that stole her breath.
Scents exploded in her awareness: her own arousal, spicy and wild, Spence hanging onto an orgasm he wasn’t allowed to have without permission, and Zander’s coolness cutting through it all.
Sound blurred: her gasps, the wet slap of skin, chains rattling.
Tactile overload hit, every nerve alight, thighs quivering, nipples tightened to aching points.
“Keep moving, boy,” Zander ordered, his voice a low growl, thrusting deeper into Spence to force the rhythm.
Spence groaned but complied, rubbing over that spot through her climax, prolonging it, drawing out aftershocks that made her shudder and whimper, tears pricking her eyes from the intensity.
The overstimulation blurred lines, pleasure twisting sharp again, her body a live wire still sparking, connected to them both in this endless loop of give and take.
And then, finally, Zander took over and pounded Spence, “Don’t you dare come without permission, boy.”
Zander’s power thrusts moved the bed and rocked them all, with Spence sandwiched between, overwhelmed.
“Please, Sir!” Spence begged.
“It isn’t me you need to beg tonight. Emerald gets to decide whether she wishes to have your essence in her, on her, or kept inside you. She can deny it outright, if she wishes.”
Emmy opened her eyes and met Zander’s gaze.
They hadn’t discussed this. She’d assumed Zander would keep this right-of-ownership, but she knew what to do, so gave him a tiny nod and met Spence’s gaze.
“After your Sir has filled you and plugged you, I’ll consider allowing you to jack off on my stomach. ”
Zander’s eyes flashed with dark approval at her nod, a predator’s gleam that sent fresh heat pooling low in her belly even as aftershocks still rippled through her.
He moved faster, vampire strength unleashing in a blur of motion, pistoning into his boy with ruthless speed.
The bed frame creaked in protest, and each thrust slammed Spence forward, burying him deeper into Emmy before yanking him back, the chain on his wrists rattling.
Spence was a bridge between them, his cockhead grinding over that swollen spot inside her again and again until the aftershocks never truly ended, turning her overstimulation into a fresh wave of bliss with an edge of pain that made her gasp and clutch at Spence’s clamped nipples until he whined and yelped.
“Fuck, yes,” Zander growled, voice fraying at the edges, centuries of control slipping as he chased his peak. “Take it, boy. Milk me with that tight ass. Show Emerald how perfectly you submit.”
“Please,” Spence gasped, voice shredded. “Ma’am—Sir—please—”
Spence’s pleas dissolved into broken sobs, his hips bucking wildly between obedience and overload, the nipple clamps swinging with each brutal thrust. Emmy watched his face — eyes wild, mouth open on silent cries.
Power surged through her, intoxicating, the emotional tether pulling tight: Spence giving everything while she and Zander held the reins.
Zander’s rhythm faltered, hips snapping erratic now, and he snarled while burying himself to the root.
His hips snapped forward one final time, locking deep.
Spence’s spine bowed, a strangled cry ripping free as his own cock jerked inside her, denied, trapped on the edge by nothing more than Zander’s will and her word.
She pulsed around him, and his cock swelled thicker inside her, his orgasm hovering close while he hung onto it with everything he had.
Zander held there, grinding slow circles, milking the last drops into his boy. Then, with deliberate care, he eased out, slow enough that Spence whimpered at the drag.
She noted Zander reached for the same plug Spence had worn all day to prepare. “Hold still,” he ordered, voice rough with satisfaction, working it in with slick efficiency. Spence whimpered as the bulb stretched him wide, and gave a little yelp when it seated inside him.
His scent screamed frustration now, sweet arousal laced with the bite of denial, and so much need.
“Please, ma’am,” Spence begged, turning pleading eyes to her, chains clinking as he strained. “Emmy—ma’am—let me come. I need … fuck, I need to mark you. Please.”
She cupped Spence’s cheek, thumb brushing sweat-damp skin. “Thirty seconds. Jack yourself off on my stomach. Miss the deadline, and you stay denied. Clock starts…”
She removed the cuff on his left hand and then looked at Zander, who had his phone in his hand. “Now.”
Spence’s hand flew to his cock and he pumped furiously, veins bulging under his grip. Emmy watched, transfixed, the sight of him frantic and beautiful, pushing her own arousal to a simmer. His breaths ragged, muscles rippling, nipple clamps glinting as he twisted for friction.
His scent spiked, sweet desperation flooding the air, wolf and man both begging.
“Twenty seconds,” Zander intoned, voice a velvet tease, leaning in to nip Spence’s ear.
Spence gave a broken sob and his strokes blurred, hips jerking, a low keen building in his throat.
At fifteen, his balls drew tight; at ten, his scent exploded into a pure, desperate release.
His whole body seized, back arching, thigh muscles cording.
He aimed true, ropes of hot cum striping her stomach in thick pulses, splattering up to her breasts, the warmth of it branding her skin.
He milked every drop, shuddering, eyes locked on hers in grateful submission.
“Time,” Zander declared, but Spence had made it, and he gave a sob of relief.
Emmy’s laugh was breathy, triumphant. “Oh, how well trained you are.” She released his other wrist. “Now clean your mess. Lick every bit off me.”
Spence dove in eagerly, tongue lapping warm trails over her skin, gathering his essence with reverent swirls that sent shivers racing through her.
The intimacy of his submission, his service, his obedience — wrapped around her heart like a vow.
She eased the clamps off gently, and then Zander cruelly rubbed the blood back into them while Spence licked and cleaned.
When her stomach gleamed clean, Spence nuzzled into her side, spent and pliant, his breath warm against her ribs, contentment rolling off him in waves. Zander moved him a few feet away, settling the blanket around Spence’s body with a tenderness that belied the raw power he’d just unleashed.
He pressed a lingering kiss to his boy’s forehead and then turned to Emmy, blue eyes blazing with that ancient hunger. He settled between her legs again, his gaze locked on hers, the air between them crackling with unspoken challenge. Mine, his look said, possessive and proud.
But Emmy wasn’t prepared to submit. She wasn’t done claiming.
Tonight was about balance, about taking as much as giving.
She surged up, pressed her hands to his chest, cool marble under the heat of her palms. She pushed sideways, catching him by surprise, and straddled him in one fluid motion, thighs clamping his hips.
Zander’s brows arched in surprise, a flash of delight sparking in his eyes before he settled.
Emmy sank down slowly at first, savoring the stretch, the way he filled her completely, cool shaft contrasting the feverish heat of her core. A low, visceral moan escaped her as she seated herself to the hilt, inner walls clenching around him in greedy pulses.
Emmy rode him hard, hips snapping in a frantic rhythm that built like a gathering storm, the slap of skin echoing sharp in the room, her breasts bouncing with each descent.
Power thrummed through her veins, heady and electric: this was her claiming him now, dragon topping ancient vampire, the emotional stakes twisting tighter with every roll of her hips.
Love warred with dominance — vulnerability in exposing her need, triumph in seeing Zander’s control fray at the edges.
His eyes darkened, cool hands gripped her hips, bruising without breaking, urging her on.
And then she was on her back, looking up, Zander’s growl vibrating through her core, his weight pinning her to the mattress.
The shift was seamless, Zander reclaiming the reins, but his gaze held hers, the power struggle a dance they both craved.
“My turn,” he rasped, voice frayed with want, and then he pounded into her fast and hard, finesse woven through the brutality, each thrust angled to drag over that devastating spot inside her, cool cock heating from her body’s fire.
Zander proved he was no passive conquest, but it was perfect, and Emmy shattered all over again, the orgasm ripping through her like wildfire. Waves of heat crashed through her and she clenched around him in violent spasms that milked his length, her cry echoing off the walls.
Pleasure bordered on overload as she squeezed his biceps, holding him in place while he pounded her. He followed her over seconds later, burying deep with a snarl, cool seed flooding her in pulsing jets that prolonged the bliss, binding them in this final, visceral claim.
He collapsed over her, and Emmy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close.
The power settled into equilibrium, struggle resolved in mutual surrender. Spence stirred beside them, and Zander reached out, tugging him into the tangle of limbs.
Eventually, Zander rose, cleaned her with a damp cloth, and made them both drink an electrolyte mixture, but Emmy didn’t argue because her body needed the liquid and the calories.
And then the three lay together, tangled and sated, the bond between them no longer a promise but a claim.
They cradled Spence between them, both of them holding him, touching each other as well as their boy.
Magic hadn’t been spoken, no ritual performed, yet she felt bound to them in ways that transcended contracts and oaths.
And those were her last thoughts before sleep took her.