Come Play With Me: An Erotica Collection. Madelynne Ellis
impossibly bright smile of Jason’s further widens. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he says as if that detail had somehow slipped his thoughts. ‘Couldn’t have you enjoying yourself too much.’
For a moment we do nothing but stare at one another. I want to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Instead I wait, but Jason seems content to leave us all hanging.
‘Why?’ I eventually ask. ‘Why wasn’t he allowed to have me?’
‘Ah … Why don’t you tell her?’ Jason says.
The sound of Saul’s wanking grows faster. ‘Why don’t you? Maybe I’m about to do it again.’
‘Stop,’ Jason snaps, and the sounds of Saul’s cock-stroking immediately cease. Instead, he sits grimly on the sofa, his fingers curled into the upholstery and his teeth gritted. He gives an inarticulate cry as Jason sweeps towards him and draws a single lick over the ruddy helm of his cock. ‘Tell her.’
‘Wanted you,’ Saul hisses through clenched teeth.
‘He had the temerity to call your name while we were having sex.’
I have to smile at that. What else can I do? We all have our fantasies, and sometimes they win out over our physical lovers. Frankly, the dream is often a more effective turn-on than all the subtle endearments fed to us by our partners. I look at the two men anew. I’ve heard the rumours, I’ve seen the evidence, but I still brand them both as straight in my own mind – curious, since they’ve no hang-ups about touching one another.
While Jason returns to the camera, I leapfrog my chair backwards to where Saul rests upon the sofa. ‘Did you really?’
‘I fuck you in my dreams every night.’
‘Silence!’ Jason swipes a lantern off the table beyond the tripod, leaving speckled dots of blood-red wax across the floor. The shattered glass crunches beneath his boots as he turns to us again. ‘No consorting among prisoners.’
‘So I’m a prisoner too now, am I? Are you going to tie me up?’ Saul holds out his wrists.
‘No. You’re going to sit there and sweat while I fuck your dream lover.’
‘Hey,’ I protest. ‘Don’t I get a say in this?’
Jason shrugs off his leather coat, beneath which he’s wearing black jeans. He’s shirtless, his torso ripped with hard-earned muscle. His smoothness is the perfect opposite of Saul’s hairy ruggedness. He cradles my chin in the V between his forefinger and thumb. ‘You took without permission. I’m going to take without permission. Later, you’re going to make Saul come, and you’d better make sure that it’s my name he screams when he does, or we’re going to be here a very long time.’
‘You’re insane.’
‘I prefer to think of it as mildly delusional.’ He presses his lips to mine, slowly building the pressure, to which I willingly yield.
‘I’ll cry out,’ I warn him.
‘Fuck, I do hope so. I hope you scream.’
‘Someone will hear. You can’t just take what you want.’
‘Saul will hear. The camera will hear. Beyond that …’ He brushes his lips against mine again. ‘I don’t think you’ll call out. I don’t even think you’ll run.’ He unfastens the knots that bind my wrists and ankles. On shaky legs, I stand. And he’s right: even as the blood floods back to my limbs, I don’t run, not even when he gives me the space to do so. I’m too intrigued, too excited by the idea of what’s to come. Besides, I’m free now. I’m in control. And running into the street with my clothing ripped up and my body exposed will likely gain me a whole lot more attention than I bargained for.
‘Suck him.’
Saul’s gaze fixes upon me as I drop to my knees between his legs. ‘This is my fantasy,’ I say, and it’s the absolute truth. ‘Why didn’t you want me to suck?’
He breathes hard through his nose. ‘I was supposed to be punishing you, and it’s not a punishment if you’re enjoying it.’
Jason shoves me towards my target. ‘Less chatting – suck!’
He can think whatever he likes, but from the moment my lips hover over the crown of Saul’s cock, Jason is no longer in charge. I am. Saul’s every breath hangs upon my actions. I dab at him with the tip of my tongue, barely touching the skin, which is berry-red and drawn so tight it seems to have outgrown its collar. He whimpers when I cup him and add the stimulus of my thumb to the mix. Still, I make him wait, just as he intended to make me await my release. I think the only reason Jason let’s me get away with the delay is that he’s as enraptured by the spell I’ve woven between myself and Saul with two tiny touches as we both are.
‘Please … touch me, Freya.’ Saul’s large hands form a fist within my hair. ‘Please … be kind.’
I’m not sure kind is truly in my nature. Besides, it’s heady knowing I could tease this man, with his scarred and rugged profile and his army boots, until he cried.
I scratch a fingernail down his shaft. ‘I don’t think kindness is what you’re really after.’ The cap of his cock is so smooth. I want to circle it over and over.
‘Don’t come,’ Jason instructs Saul. ‘See he doesn’t,’ he adds to me.
‘He’s a big boy, he can control himself.’ Of course, just me making mention of it implies otherwise. Saul is perhaps thinking the same. His thighs are trembling as I lower my head and take him in, all the way into my throat, right down so that my nose nuzzles into the root.
‘Fucking hell!’ he moans. ‘That’s hot.’
Easy up again. Now the impressive visuals are out of the way, I let my hands do the work along with my mouth, circling the shaft, tugging at the pulsing flesh. Slow, then fast – faster, bringing him quickly to the edge, and then drawing him back again. He croaks, and draws his bottom up off the sofa as everything pulls tight.
‘Not yet,’ Jason warns.
I fall back upon a tortuous tease. Saul’s muscles quiver. ‘Can’t hold it,’ he moans.
‘Of course you can.’ He’s bathed in sweat when I rise up from the next two sucks, and fluid leaks in a steady stream from the eye.
‘Just hold it there,’ Jason says, which I choose to interpret as an instruction to hold Saul on the precipice rather than an order to freeze. ‘Let me get in on this.’
Jason doesn’t unbuckle his belt. He simply releases the fly. The image he makes with his cock poking through the slash of fabric is utterly crude, and yet compelling. It grabs me at a gut level, leaving me tense and eager for the involvement he’s promised. I stare at his cock, which like the rest of him is lean and long, while he draws circles upon my bottom.
Somehow, the contrast of bare cock and his closed belt make his ethereal beauty more real. He’s no Lucifer exposed like this. His virility detracts from his power, because it proves that he isn’t as unmoved as his expression first suggests.
He raises me onto the sofa, so that I’m on all fours with my head in Saul’s lap, then shimmies up behind me and slides his cock up and down in the channel between the cheeks of my butt.
Up and down, he strokes, driving up the air of anticipation, until we’re all salivating as we wait. Waiting for that moment, when the teasing stops and the real fucking begins.
‘I think you’ve forgotten how to fight, Ms Thief.’ Jason spreads my cheeks wide and pokes his glans against the entrance to my arse.
It’s true, there’s no resistance left in me. I might have started out a prisoner, cajoled into this, but suggesting that I’m anything less than willing now would be an out-and-out lie. ‘Just do it.’
‘In the arse?’
‘Any