Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (22 page)

“That
wasn’t an insult, Faith,” Ezra calmly chides me, trying to cover his amusement. “You can do better than that. Cort really is an assmunch cocksucker. He likes both, very, very mu- uhhhh…” Ez wheezes out as the sound of pounding fists reaches my ears.

I snicker. “I wish it was Ez beating
the living shit out of you right now, Cort. You deserve it. Plus, you really are a cockgobbler,” I fling his shit right back at him. Cort hates that he loves Ezra’s body like that, which gives me an endless amount of ammunition.

A palm covers my face and grin
ds the cake into my pores. “Gobble that, girl,” Cort hisses.

I grab Cort’s wrist and pull. When I can’t move him, I crawl up his arm and tackle him to the floor. Ezra, with a fresh
blooming black eye, helps me hold Cort down as he reaches into the cooler for the rest of the cake. As a team, we smear it all over Cortez, spitting obscenities at the black-haired idiot. It bothers me that he rejects Ez in one moment, and kisses on him in the next. Ezra and I banter while we teach Cort a valuable lesson.

“Lick it off,” I point to my cheek. “Suck this, boy,” I demand.

“No,” Cort pouts. “I don’t wanna.” He turns his head to the side, so I shove some cake into his exposed ear. “Hey!” he shrieks like a little girl, nearly bucking me off his chest.

“You started it,” I childishly sing. “Payback’s a bitch.”

“And so are you,” Cort hisses back, struggling to get free from underneath me.

“I never said I wasn’t.”
I lick a wide path up his cheek. “Mmm… you taste good.” Cort moans beneath me and stops fighting us.

“I want a taste,” Cort
begs. “Please.”

“No, you didn’t wanna,” I use the same tone he did, and even pout. “Are you hungry, Ez? I wanna share my cake with you,” I seductively purr, and I’m shocked
that it has an effect on the boys. Cort gets comfortable under me, pitching his own tent, and Ez looks like he’s going to faint.

“Enjoy your feast… please,” Cort whimpers as if pained.
His lashes flutter, hiding the gray of his eyes as he smiles.

Ezra’s long-suffering sigh echoes around the tent. Without hesitation, he dips his head and licks Cort’s lips.
Stunned, I sit on Cort’s chest as Ezra laps at Cort’s lips. I’m almost jarred off as Cort tries to rise closer to Ezra.

“No,” Ez warns in a voice I’ve never heard before- it’s deep, husky, without its usual sharp edge. “You just sit back and take what we give you. You don’t get to touch us back- not until you earn the right.”

“I don’t want to play that game right now,” Cort whines, his hands slipping from my lax grasp. He tries to pull Ezra closer. 

“What game?” My eyes go between the Ezes, trying to figure out what’s going on.

“It’s the other half of his stupid
The Hunter
game. Whoever was captured had to submit to the victor. I’m lying here prone, I guess I lost,” Cort pouts, but he doesn’t sound like it’s a hardship.

“We’re not playing
The Hunter
,” Ez’s voice is even deeper. “I just don’t want you taking over and playing with Faith while I watch. Be good and take it like a man. You’ll get everything you want when I feel like giving it to you- be patient.”

The three of us stare at each other- friends- waiting to figure out what to do next. Cort is lax underneath me as I straddle his hips. His wide eyes are open in wonder and anticipation. Ezra is kneeling next to
me, hungrily staring at Cort… and he’s not hungry for the cake smashed all over Cort’s tan face.

Ezra is so aroused that he’
s panting, his chest rapidly rising and falling. He’s teased, taunted, and flashed his bulge as a joke, but I’ve never seen him fully aroused. He looks different, not self-conscious and confused. His eyes are darker- smoky and heated. Ez doesn’t act or look like the Ezra I’ve known- he is in charge… and he is radiating masculinity.

Cort’s eyes dart between Ezra face and my chest. Cortez keeps licking his lips like he wants to savor the sweet taste of cake that lingers there, but it’s Ezra’s taste he wants more of. The wild look in Cort’s eyes, we could ask him anything and he’d no longer deny his need for Ezra.

A frozen tableau of lust and need and hunger, we wait, but none of us have the balls to make the first move.

Butterflies assault my insides- warring between anticipation and apprehension. I don’t know if I want to do this
, and I know why. Is it because my mother told me to touch these boys, and doing it would mean she won. Should I stop it because it would burn her ass? 

I go with my gut. I want them because they are my friends. I selflessly want to give them what
they need. I selfishly want them because I’ve been crazed with need- up and down… hot and cold… up and down… hot and cold… I need… release… and they will give it to me.  

“Ugh!” I grunt when firm lips press into mine. Never- never has Ez
ra touched me in this manner. Leave it to Ezra to make the first move. Cort said Ezra always does, but Cort always makes the last.

I expected a tentative kiss- unsure and untried- not passionate and hungry. Ez nips my bottom lip with his front teeth while he
hungrily growls into my mouth.

Out of nowhere, four hands are touching me, maneuvering me, playing me like an instrument- driving me to heights that should frighten me.
Ezra eats at my mouth and sucks at my neck, his hands squeezing my ass, fingertips inching my skirt up my thighs. Cort’s hands find their way up my shirt, tugging my bra until he can have the first taste of feminine flesh he’s ever touched. Cortez’s moan is louder than my own when he finally cups my bare breast.

“Kiss him,” Ezra orders in a slow, deep voice that sends shivers down my spine. He pushes me forward until I collapse on top of Cort. Eager arms envelope me as seeking lips locate my mouth. My gasp allows Cort’s demanding tongue to penetrate my lips, silkily sliding along the highly sensitive flesh.

“My turn,” Ez growls before I could really kiss Cortez back. He turns into a person I’ve never met- he is dominant, and will accept nothing but total submission. If Ez will take this ache away, I’ll do anything he says.

Fingers tighten in my newly shortened hair, yanking me backward. I present Ez my
mouth, lips parted for his kiss. But he viciously attacks my neck instead- biting me roughly. The sharp pinch of his teeth leaves a lasting mark- deeper and more painful than the accidental bite.

“That wasn’t an accident before, was it?” I ask in a voice deepened by lust. The only answer I get is Cort’s intoxicating chuckle, confirming that the bite was on purpose. “Watch out, I may just bite you back.”

“I’m counting on it,” Ezra breathlessly murmurs against my neck, skin tingling from the attention. “Bonus points for bites to the thighs and ass. It drives Cort insane. He’ll chase you if you stop, begging for more.”

I expect Cort to balk at Ezra telling his private desires, as he always does. Instead, Cort stares up at us, completely at our mercy, happy to take anything we give. The personality shift in the Ezes is dizzying. The more dominant Ezra becomes, the more compliant Cortez becomes. They complement each other, but it’s so unexpected. I could never do what Cort is doing.

“Don’t be confused,” Ezra purrs against my throat. He gently flutters kisses as he explains. “Marc told us where he went and what he was doing for that missing year he was gone. But it was only after Marcus accidently saw how Cort gets when we played
The Hunter
. I don’t really understand it, but it’s a dynamic of human nature. The more dominant I behave, the more Cort acts like this,” Ezra points down at a dreamy-looking Cortez.

“And I don’t care
for the why of it. All I know is that I love it. Marc called me a dominant and Cort a switch.” Ezra reaches down and strokes Cort’s cheek. The cheek lovingly nuzzles into the palm of Ez’s hand. “I don’t care what you call it. I’m just glad that Cort will stay still long enough to let me touch him.”

“What about me?” I mumble in confusion.

“You’re like him,” Cort sluggishly purrs, as if he is drugged on lust. “It’s why I can barely move. Jesus,” he hisses, “It’s a double punch- the two of you together. Fuck me,” he groans, writhing beneath my hips until he has me pressed against his arousal.

“Maybe we should stop,” I say in a panic.

“Why?” Ez sharply asks.

“I feel like I’m taking advantage. It’s like he’s drunk.”

“I’ve touched him thousands of times, when he’s sober and like this. He is drunk or high, whatever you want to call it. I’m sure Marc has a name for it. Cort likes it either way- he knows he gets this way. Right now, all he wants to do is get off,” Ezra chuckles in my ear. “I want to get you both off,” he breathes against my neck.

I fall forward, twitching and quivering as my mind computes what Ezra just suggested. Cort pulls me up his body until I’m straddling above his hips, our lips pressed together in a slow kiss. Our tongues slowly duel, lips caressing in a gentle rhythm. Eager fingers that show no hesitancy or fumbling divest me of my shirt and bra until we’re pressed bare chest to naked breasts.

I fall into the simple pleasure of Cortez. No games. No jokes. No charming advances. No fakery. We connect as friends seeking mutual pleasure. I don’t feel flash-fried or confused. I feel safe and wanted. It’s as if warm bathwater surrounds me, soothes me. I feel drugged, sluggish, and lax in his hands.

When Cort moans, I moan. When I moan, Cort moans. One pleasurable sound draws, coaxes, and yanks it from the other’s throat.

“Hell,” I squeak, body undulating on its own whim. Ezra will not be forgotten. Cort makes me feel safe, Ezra makes me feel insane. Nimble fingers shred my tights, the nylon tearing- the sound of destruction fills the tent, joining the sounds of our labored breathing and rapid heartbeats. Each tug of the fabric jars me, pulls me- Ez puts a hand at the small of my back, stabilizing me, while the other hand decimates my black tights.

“Did Faith’s tights offend you, Ez?” Cort teases, but his voice is tight with caution that I don’t understand.

“Skin,” Ez grunts- monosyllabic- as if the more dominant he becomes, the less rational he is. My tights are his sole focus, and he attacks them with a single-mindedness of an insane person.

Cort and I help-
anything to calm Ezra down. When my pantyhose are gone, I relax against Cort’s chest. But Ezra isn’t finished. “HEY!” I shrilly shout. “What the fuck, Ez?”

“Skin,” Ez grunts again, ripping his prize from my ass. The fabric of my panties doesn’t tear easily, I’m yanked backwards again. That hand on my back makes a reappearance while the other destroys the satin that was covering my bits.

“Sorry,” Ezra mumbles, placing a soft kiss to the nape of my neck. He whispers against my skin, “Your panties were in the way.”

I look over my shoulder and say, “In the way…” My eyes pop out of my head. “
Of what… Holy fuck Ez,” I growl, eyes hungrily eating the sight.

“What?” Ez questions, fingers self-consciously roaming over his naked chest. Ezra is buck-ass naked.

“What?” I audibly swallow. “Is that you are… holy hell, Ez, you’re hot,” I mutter in amazement- shaking my head to and fro to clear it. Nope, the view doesn’t change. “Wow…”

Cort chuckles beneath me, snorting every few seconds. “I told you Ez likes to be naked. He literally walks around the house like that- all
… the… fucking… time... It drives Marcus insane. If Ez was younger, I bet Marc would spank him for being a little bitch. Cock tease,” Cort breathes while choking on a laugh.

“How… why… how did you get a six-pack?” I
breathlessly stumble over the words. “Do you work out?”

Ez’s skin is flawless, pale and milky. I could follow the grooves of his stomach with my tongue. I swallow the moisture that accumulates in my mouth, thanks to salivary glands that want me to drool all over the boy. I pretend that my eyes don’t go south of his belly button.

“So that’s what a cock looks like,” I mutter under my breath, tilting my head to the side for a better look. “No fuckin’ way.”

“Ez doesn’t work out,” Cort laughs. He pushes me up and yanks off his
t-shirt, revealing a slim chest with a bit of baby fat. “I’m not built like that insane fuck. Sorry, Faith. But I make up for it in other ways,” he salaciously purrs while rolling his hips.

“You should let me suck you off or
screw you sometime,” is said with a lot of resentment. I hadn’t realized Cort says no to that. “That’s how I work out,” Ezra cockily says, posing for us- flexing his stomach muscles, his thighs, even his chest. His perfect cock keeps bobbing up and down, begging for some attention. Nothing about Ezra is like what I saw in my living room last night- never will I have sex with an old geezer.

Boys like Ezra are why girls go insane after puberty- no fair.

“Huh?” I grunt to cover my needful whimpers.

“Who needs sit ups when you can just skullfuck Cort
mouth?” Ez flexes his long arms, the muscles appetizingly bunch near his elbows. “Or you can be on all fours, straining while Cort takes you from behind. Holding Cort up takes a lot of strength- it’s an excellent workout.” Ez flashes an evil grin that looks painful.