Chapter 34
dirks
She dropped fast.
Jeremy stepped up behind her, towel still clinging low to his hips, steam rising off his skin. His body looked carved out of fucking stone—tattoos everywhere, shoulders tight, abs flexed, cock already thick behind the fabric.
He looked like control. He smelled like it.
I stood frozen, towel clenched too tight around my waist, doing everything I could not to palm my cock like a fucking horny bastard.
“The collar’s not for her.”
Jeremy chuckled low, but didn’t look at me. “I know who it’s for.”
He looked down at her—bare, waiting, beautiful—and stepped close enough that his cock brushed the back of her neck.
“I’m reminding her that she has to earn the right to boss you around.”
Luna sucked in a sharp breath, her thighs twitching.
He pointed at the edge of the bed—looking straight at me. “Sit.”
I dropped the towel, took two steps, and sat down where he told me to, cock hard, throbbing, leaking precum across my thigh like I was already halfway to coming from watching.
Jeremy dropped his towel and stepped around to her side. His cock hung heavy, flushed, perfect, inches from her lips.
“You gonna be good for me, honey?” he asked her, voice rough as he grabbed a fistful of her hair and tilted her head up.
“Yes, Sir.”
Fuck. I twitched.
She sounded so small when she said it. So needy. All that bite she gave me? Gone in his hands.
My heart thudded.
Jeremy glanced in my direction. “Watch.”
I did as he said because she might control me, but he controlled everything.
Jeremy didn’t hold back. He twisted one hand in Luna’s hair, the other braced at her jaw, and he fucked her mouth like he owned it. No warm-up. There was only the wet slap of his cock hitting the back of her throat over and over, her body jolting with each punishing thrust.
She knelt on the ground, spit trailing down her chin, fingers wrapped tight around the collar resting in her lap. She held it with both hands like something sacred, even as her mascara streaked and her moans turned to choked-off gasps.
She loved it.
I could see it in every inch of her—the way her thighs tensed, the way her back arched when he held her down, the way her fingers clutched the leather.
It was the same reason I loved when she pulled my hair, when she straddled me and made me hold still, when her voice dropped low and she told me I was hers. It wasn’t weakness. It wasn’t loss of control. It was being wanted so completely. It was the definition of true surrender.
Jeremy looked like a fucking god. Every thrust of his hips was calculated. He groaned once as her throat tightened around him. His head dropped back, chest rising and falling with ragged, barely contained restraint.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, my fists clenched at my thighs to keep from touching myself. My whole body ached, jaw tight, heart racing. I was burning for it.
But I hadn’t moved.
This wasn’t about getting off. This was about respect. About belonging.
I’d been with men in the past when I used to go to sex clubs, but Jeremy and I had never gone there.
We’d always kept it focused on her—our gravity, our anchor, our center.
The idea of touching him, being touched by him .
. . it hovered at the edges of my desire.
He never showed interest. I always assumed he was straight.
I think.
I mean, he never said otherwise.
I never asked because Luna had always been enough. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized I’d share that with him if he ever wanted it.
My cock throbbed, a hot, aching pulse that matched the frantic beat of my heart. I needed to touch myself so bad it hurt, but I couldn’t, not without permission.
I swallowed back every trace of pride I had left, looked at the two of them—my center and my command—and forced the words out past my dry throat. “Madame. Sir . . . ”
They didn’t look at me. Didn’t stop.
Jeremy drove his cock deeper, his hand locking her in place. Her throat stretched. Her eyes watered, but her mouth curved a little.
She’d heard me.
“I . . . ” My voice cracked. “Please. May I touch myself?”
She pulled off Jeremy’s cock with a wet pop, spit stringing between her lips and the tip. Her mouth was red and puffy, but she was fucking glowing. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, hungry breaths, and when she turned to look at me, something in her eyes shifted.
“Okay. Touch yourself.”
“Y-yes, Madame.”
My hands moved, one gripping the base of my cock, the other sliding up my thigh. I moaned as I finally wrapped my hand around myself and pumped once, twice, slow and tight, precum smearing across my palm.
Luna watched me with heavy eyes and parted lips.
“That’s it,” she murmured. “Nice and slow. Let me see you.”
Before I could get lost in the feeling, Jeremy’s voice cut through the room.
“Luna.” He was standing in front of her, naked, dripping, cock still hard and gleaming with her spit. “Back on my cock. Now.”
Without hesitation, she shifted back to face him and obediently opened her mouth. Jeremy grabbed her by the hair, no preamble, no delay, and shoved himself back between her lips with a guttural groan.
He fucked her face like he needed it, like she was his release and nothing more—and she loved it.
Her eyes fluttered. Her body rocked with every brutal thrust. She moaned around him as I worked my cock harder, my strokes synced with the movement of his hips.
Jeremy’s head dropped back, muscles flexing as he held her in place and drove deeper. His cock vanished between her lips with every thrust, her throat bulging to take him. Watching them—watching him slam into her mouth while she worked him with perfect, punishing rhythm—that was what made me ache.
This was worship. It was power, passed between them like a secret I’d been allowed to witness.
Seeing that chain of dominance shift between them, and being caught in the middle of it. That was the fucking turn-on. Because I knew exactly where I stood.
Between the god and the goddess.
Owned by them both.