54. Concentration Check
Chapter fifty-four
Concentration Check
Cameron
I know my feet are on the floor.
This should be obvious information.
Feet are generally either on the floor or they are not, and considering I have spent the last however-the-fuck-long hanging naked from the ceiling, I feel like I should be able to appreciate the distinction.
Except my body has apparently not received the update yet.
Griffin has one arm around my waist. Micah is on my other side, steadying me while Ronan crouches in front of me, asking questions I understand about two seconds after he says them.
Anything numb?
No.
Tingling?
No.
Fingers?
Good.
Toes?
Also good.
Blood sugar?
Apparently good, according to Griffin.
Cool.
Excellent.
All systems operational.
My brain is still somewhere near the ceiling.
The strange thing is that I remember everything.
Not necessarily in order, but in pieces so sharp they almost feel separate from the rest of the room.
The rope compressing my skin.
The moment my weight stopped belonging to my feet.
Micah looking at me before the blindfold went on and telling me I was art.
Griffin's hand between my thighs, warm and familiar without actually giving me enough to chase.
The first impact from the flogger.
Then the next.
Dex making frustrated sounds through the gag somewhere I couldn't see him.
And Ronan.
Mostly Ronan.
His voice had been the only thing in the room that never moved.
The flogger moved. Griffin touched me. Dex eventually touched me. The rope tightened and shifted as my body reacted. Even my own sense of where I existed seemed to change once I couldn't see anything.
Ronan's voice stayed exactly where I needed it.
Show me.
And my traitorous fucking body did.
Twice.
In front of everybody.
That part is new.
He's talked me into coming before. I know exactly what his voice can do to me when he strips away everything else I normally use to orient myself.
Until tonight, no one else knew exactly what it looked like.
Now Micah knows.
Griffin knows.
Dex definitely knows, considering I'm pretty sure he nearly broke the gag trying to make noise through it.
I should probably be embarrassed.
Instead, warmth pools low in my belly again.
Apparently humiliation is still a hard limit, but being witnessed while Ronan demonstrates that he can basically hack my nervous system is not.
Good to know.
“Cami?”
I blink.
Ronan is still in front of me.
“Sorry.”
His mouth twitches. “You don't need to apologize. I'm checking that you're actually back enough to continue.”
Continue.
Oh.
Right.
We're not done.
That realization hits my body before my brain catches up. Heat rolls through me so quickly my knees soften, and Griffin tightens his arm around my waist.
I laugh quietly. “Yeah. I'm back.”
Ronan studies me.
I know that look.
It is not suspicion. It is verification.
“Color?”
“Green.”
“Still want everything we discussed?”
Fuck.
My stomach flips.
“Yes.”
That answer comes considerably faster.
Dex laughs from somewhere behind me. “She's suddenly processing at full speed.”
I turn my head.
He has removed the gag, obviously, and his hair is a mess from, I assume, Ronan's hands. His mouth is red around the edges where the ball sat.
He looks fucking wrecked.
I like that more than I probably should.
“Did you survive your cuck chair?” I ask.
His eyes narrow. “You don't get to call it that.”
“You called it that.”
“That was before I suffered.”
“You were there for like twenty minutes.”
“It was an emotionally significant twenty minutes.”
Micah snorts.
Ronan stands and starts loosening some of the rope still around my wrists. “He's fine.”
“I was objectified and silenced.”
“You volunteered for both,” Micah reminds him.
“Details.”
I laugh again, and somehow that does more to bring me back into my body than any of the careful questions.
The suspension rope is gone from my legs, but my wrists are still secured in front of me. Not tightly. Just enough that the position remains intentional.
I realize Griffin is staring at them.
Then at me.
Something has changed in his face.
Not concern.
I know Griffin's concerned face very well. There is usually a line between his eyebrows and some version of are you sure sitting behind his eyes.
This isn't that.
This is hunger.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
He reaches up and wraps one hand around the back of my neck, not pulling yet.
“Baby girl.”
The rasp in his voice slides directly between my thighs.
“Yes?”
His thumb moves against my skin.
“You want me to use your mouth?”
Everything inside me tightens.
Not because the question surprises me.
Because Griffin almost never asks like that in front of other people.
Blunt.
Dirty.
Like he already knows what answer he wants and is only waiting to make sure mine matches.
I look at him.
“Yes.”
His grip tightens.
“Say it.”
Fuck.
“Yes. I want you to use my mouth.”
Griffin kisses me once.
Not gently.
Then his hand moves into my hair and guides me down.
I don't resist.
Not even a little.
By the time my knees hit the mat, my head is already swimming again.
Griffin gets himself free, and I have just enough time to look up at him before he guides my mouth onto his cock.
The first push is controlled.
The second less so.
I moan around him.
Dex mutters, “Holy fuck.”
That makes Griffin's hand tighten in my hair.
Apparently he likes an audience too.
Interesting.
My wrists are still bound, resting uselessly against my chest while Griffin controls the movement. I can usually touch him during this. Hold his thighs. Wrap a hand around the base when I need a break.
Now I can't do any of that.
I just take what he gives me.
And apparently my body is very fucking interested in that too.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Ronan says somewhere to my left. “Look at you.”
I close my eyes.
Bad idea.
The second I remove the visual information, Ronan's voice slides deeper into my brain again.
Griffin groans as he pushes farther.
“Fuck, you take him so well.”
My thighs press together.
I feel ridiculous.
Nobody is touching me.
Nobody is even trying to make me come.
Griffin is fucking my mouth while Ronan talks to me, and somehow the same warmth I felt while hanging in the rope starts gathering low and deep again.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Apparently Ronan has created a shortcut.
My breath catches around Griffin, and he immediately pulls back enough to let me breathe.
“You good?”
I nod quickly.
He waits.
“Green,” I manage.
His thumb strokes my cheek once.
Then his hand goes back into my hair.
The softness of the check followed immediately by him putting his cock back in my mouth should not be as hot as it is.
Ronan continues talking.
Not constantly.
That would make it less effective.
He waits until Griffin has a rhythm again, until I'm concentrating on breathing through my nose and taking him deeper, then his voice slides back in.
“That's it. Let him use you.”
My thighs squeeze harder.
“Such a good fucking girl.”
I moan.
Griffin's hips jerk.
Ronan laughs quietly. “Careful, Griffin.”
Griffin pulls out long enough to swear. “I know.”
“We have plans for that cock.”
Dex makes a choking laugh.
Griffin glares toward Ronan. “I'm aware.”
“I'd prefer you remain useful.”
“Fuck you.”
Ronan smiles.
I start laughing.
Which is difficult when Griffin's cock is approximately two inches from my mouth.
He looks down at me.
“You think that's funny?”
I bite my lip and nod.
His eyes darken.
Oh, fuck.
He slides back between my lips.
Harder this time.
The laugh turns into a moan.
And then somehow—some fucking how—the coil in my belly tightens again.
I don't understand this.
I don't need to understand it.
I have spent enough time with Ronan to know that trying to analyze whatever my body is doing usually just makes it harder to do.
So I stop.
I listen.
I feel Griffin's hand in my hair.
I hear Dex breathing somewhere behind me.
Micah says something too low for me to understand.
Ronan comes closer. “Don't chase it.”
There it is.
My whole body shivers.
Griffin slows just enough that I can breathe around him.
Ronan crouches down so he’s right next to me.
“You know what happens when you stop trying.”
My eyes close.
“Let it happen.”
The orgasm rolls through me without anyone touching between my thighs.
Again.
Not as violent as either one in the suspension, but deep enough that my knees spread against the mat and a broken sound catches around Griffin's cock.
He pulls out immediately.
“Fuck.”
I breathe hard, forehead dropping against his thigh.
His hand strokes my hair instead of gripping it now.
“That was fucking hot.”
I laugh weakly. “I'm becoming concerned Ronan has accidentally Pavloved my pussy.”
Dex loses it.
Micah actually bends forward laughing.
Even Ronan's control cracks enough that he covers his mouth with one hand.
“I don't think that's how Pavlovian conditioning works,” he says.
“Then explain why I just came while nobody touched my pussy.”
His eyebrows lift. “I can.”
“Please don't.”
Griffin pulls me upright by my arms and kisses me hard.
Apparently conversation over.
Fine by me.
Once the remaining rope comes off my wrists, everything becomes less organized.
Not unsafe.
Just considerably more everyone is horny, and nobody needs another fucking seminar about it.
Micah rubs along the faint pressure lines left on my arms before kissing me. Dex immediately takes advantage of the fact that my hands are free again and drags me into another kiss from the other side.
Griffin's hands find my hips before he lifts me.
Ronan watches all of us for a few seconds before he points toward the table.
There is something extremely unfair about lying naked on a table while four shirtless men surround you.
I should probably file a complaint.
Instead, I spread my legs when Ronan steps between them.
His mouth curves. “Good girl.”
My entire body responds.
Fucking shortcut.
He hooks my thighs wider and lowers his mouth to me.
“Oh, fuck.”
My back arches and my head falls back.
Griffin is immediately there.
His hands slide under my head and shoulders, giving me something familiar to press into while Ronan's tongue moves over me.
Dex takes one breast.
Micah takes the other.
Apparently we have abandoned all pretense of restraint now.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Ronan's mouth works me with the confidence of someone who has learned exactly how I react and sees no reason to pretend otherwise.
Micah rolls my nipple between his fingers.
Dex puts his mouth on the other one.
Griffin bends over me from above until his face fills my vision. “You good?”
I laugh breathlessly. “Do I look not good?”
“You look beautiful, but well fucked.”
“That is not the same thing as good.”
“No.” His grin is slow. “It isn't.”
Ronan does something with his tongue that wipes every coherent thought out of my brain.
My hips jerk.
His forearm presses across them.
“Stay.”
I make an offended sound.
Dex laughs against my breast. “Dollface, you've been told.”
“Fuck all of you.”
Micah's mouth curves near my shoulder. “That is the plan.”
That thought does not help.
Griffin kisses me as the pressure builds.
There is no denying this one.
No clever voice trick.
Just Ronan's mouth, Micah and Dex's hands, Griffin's lips against mine, and enough overstimulation that my whole body feels like exposed wiring.
I come hard.
Then I barely get enough time to breathe before Ronan starts again.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
Griffin laughs into my hair. “You asked for this.”
“I know.”
Ronan's fingers join his mouth.
“Fuck—I—fuck—I fucking know.”
I lose another orgasm somewhere between Dex biting lightly at my nipple and Micah telling me how fucking pretty I look spread out for them.
By the time Ronan finally lifts his head, I am breathing like I've run a marathon despite having personally contributed almost nothing to the physical workload.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Still green?”
“So green.”
Dex whistles. “She's going to die.”
“I am not.”
“Your soul has left your body like four times.”
“Five,” Griffin corrects.
I glare at him.
He looks incredibly pleased with himself.
That seems rude.
Then his hands slide around my waist, and he lifts me enough to pull me toward the edge of the table.
I know that look too.
Not cautious Griffin.
Not husband checking whether the complicated polyamory is still emotionally okay Griffin.
My husband is horny.
Very fucking horny.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him.
He makes a low sound into my mouth and pulls me against him.
Whatever small amount of patience he had left apparently dies there.
His hands grip my ass.
Mine go into his hair.
And for a few minutes, the rest of the room almost disappears.
Not literally.
Dex is constitutionally incapable of disappearing.
But Griffin and I have always been good at creating our own little gravitational field in a room.
He pulls me against his cock, kisses down my neck, and says something filthy enough into my ear that I bite his shoulder.
“Table,” Ronan says.
Griffin freezes.
I look over.
Ronan is holding the vibrating cock ring.
Oh.
Oh, this is happening now.
The room shifts again.
Not because anybody is less turned on.
Because we've reached the part we actually planned.
Griffin looks at the table.
Then Ronan.
Then the cock ring.
His brows lift.