Oycher (16 page)

“Yeah, well.” She cupped her forehead. “I don’t know how much pleasure I can take. You’re both overwhelming.”

Terje scooped everything off the table by lifting the damask tablecloth as though it were a garbage bag, all while moving in blurring speed. Dishes were clanking and breaking, but neither seemed to care. The table he’d exposed was far thicker than a normal dining room table, and it housed some odd mechanisms. “Let us take all the worry from you, Isla.” He opened a paneled door and unloaded his arms.

Oycher had her back against his front. “You’re trembling for our cocks. Can’t you understand how perfectly we fit?”

“No pressure about mating, remember?” She went boneless against him, reaching over her head and wrapping her arms around his thick neck while he cupped her breasts, and then pumped them rhythmically with his heated palms and rough fingers.

Terje stood in front of her, tugging on both of her nipples as Oycher plumped them with his hands. She cried out when the sensation tightened her pussy.

“Relax with it.” Terje licked the divot beneath her bottom lip, moving up to tug and nip. While Oycher worked his hands on her clothing, his mouth trailing slow kisses down the side of her neck.

She tensed. “You know I don’t want you at my throat.”

“Not a problem, but you’re missing out on a serious erogenous zone. Just ask Terje.” Her dress hit the floor. His hand moved beneath her panties and cupped her wet sex. “You’re adorable down here.”

“Hurry.” She pushed against his hand, wanting penetration.

“Patience,” he demanded against her lips as he massaged her vulva. “Part your legs wider.”

She obeyed, the momentum rolling as he skimmed her dripping heat with his firm fingers. “Ah, come on.”

“Quiet.” He swirled his wrist, curling his fingers. “You’ll get there when I say.” He thumbed her clitoris, back and forth, before pressing in and maintaining steady pressure. All the while, he circled his fingers inside her vagina faster and faster.“Think of my cock here as you take every thick inch of me deep inside, while Terje runs his hands and tongue everywhere I’m not touching.”

Terje inhaled, “I can scent she’s close to climaxing.” He moaned. “My balls are as hard as my dick. I can’t wait to dive into that slick pussy.”

Oycher worked his hand faster, moving in what must be vampiric speed, but holding her clitoris steady. This was what she needed, speed and friction.

Terje trailed his open mouth across her shoulders, her skin pebbling. He stopped just shy of dipping down her throat. “Look at these, Oycher.” He heaved them in his hands. “These gorgeous breasts are ours.” He pinched the stiff peaks, rubbing them between his fingers and thumbs.

“Oh!” Her walls shivered around Oycher’s fingers.

“I’m going to slide between these velvety lips and fuck you so hard, you’ll never want to run from me again.”

She blew out a long breath, her mouth opening and closing. “It’s too much.” The intensity of her oncoming climax would likely shatter her in more ways than one.

“It’s never too much as long as we have you.”

“Look at her cheeks and breasts, she’s turning all rosy and delicious.” Oycher withdrew his fingers without allowing her to finish, cupping her sex in a possessive hold for a few breathless moments, and then handed her off to Terje.

She was going to punch a vampire! “What are you doing?”

Terje lifted her onto the table, pushing her back with a steady finger on her chest. He grabbed a few items from beneath a side table. Next, he placed a porcelain bowl next to her hips and what looked like three aloe leaves. He lifted her slightly, kissing her questioning mouth, and positioned a soft roll pillow beneath her neck. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, what are you doing?”

Oycher was standing at the end of the table, positioning her legs. “There’s a simple way that’ll make you more sensitive.” He protracted claws that could easily behead most creatures. Isla gasped at the way they gleamed beneath the chandelier. “Hush now.” He slid his hands slowly up her thighs, not scraping her, but the sight was horrifyingly erotic. He ran them beneath the edges of her panties and flared out his fingers, snapping the elastic as if he’d sliced it clean with a blade.

Terje hovered over her mound, catching the piece of silk with his extended canines. He rubbed it between his lips a moment, as if savoring her flavor, before dropping it to the table. “Delicious.” He took the leaves next to him, raking his canines down the center of each and exposing the clear gel.

“It doesn’t smell like aloe, but it looks like it.” It didn’t have the cactus-like bumps, though. The leaf was smooth and velvety.

“It’s a special plant grown by immortals and used for precise purposes.” He grinned teasingly.

“One of which is an awesome shaving lather.” Terje reached around her, placing a hand on each of her knees, spreading her until her outer thighs touched the table.

Her skin burned, and Isla knew without looking in the hanging mirror that a flush had crawled beneath her skin. “You’re going to shave me?”

Oycher kissed her knee, lowering his hand between her thighs. “You’ll feel every glide of our tongues, every whisper of a touch.” He raked the backs of his claws over her trimmed hair. “And when I grind my dick right here,” he said, placing a kiss on her throbbing clit, “you’ll feel it even more.”

“Ready?” Terje asked, brushing his lips across her nipple, making her curl off the table toward his touch.

“I guess so.”

Oycher lifted one of the split leaves and butterflied it. “Hold her steady, Terje.” He placed the opened side of the leave on her pussy, rubbing in downward strokes, the gel seeping all the way to her skin. It wasn’t cold as she expected, and it had absolutely no smell.

Terje stared at the flesh between her shoulder and throat. “Feel good?”

She knew, with his canines down, that he was stoked to mark her. “So far, but what if he cuts me?”

Oycher held up his clawed hand. “I am a precision instrument.”

She gasped in outrage, “With those?”

“Nothing better than my claws, I use them on my beard, too.” He turned his index finger over and ran the back of his claw down her mound, in one smooth gliding stroke. A cool waft of air hit her. She looked down, meeting his glowing gaze between her legs, and spied him blowing on her.

“Why is your breath so cold?” Her vagina tightened with his next puff of air.

“Feel familiar?”

She scrunched her brows. “I had this dream…”

He derailed her oncoming thoughts, when he proceeded to shave another line, then another, until he was moving in inhuman speed. Even with her near immortal sight, Isla could barely keep up with him. With one final wintery blast, he blew his breath all over her freshly slick mound, causing her to groan in need. “Oh, my.”

“Exactly,” Terje said huskily, leaning in with a damp towel and wiping her up. It was personal, the way he was handling her, and her skin grew even warmer. He lifted her by the waist and Oycher flipped a lever on the table. A pop and then a slide sounded, before a peculiarly textured padding presented itself in the center of the wood. He placed her knees down on the padding that resembled ostrich skin. She leaned forward on her hands and knees, the air stimulating her bare sex was something to get used to, and she could understand the whole sensitivity thing working out for her.

“No,” Terje said, correcting her position. He wrapped her torso over the textured surface, which was slippery yet bumpy enough to hold her in place. “Hands over your head.”

Oycher stood behind her, his leather-covered thighs pressing against the backs of her legs. He rimmed her sex with his thumb, circling. “Do you have a hungry pussy?”

“Yes, since you left me hanging.” She reached down to pinch her clit, just the right pressure and she would detonate.

“Don’t,” Terje threatened. “Bring up one knee and lower the side of your face on the table.” He lowered his head beneath her chest and suckled a nipple insistently while kneading the other with his thumb and fingers. Her fingers sunk into the leather padding, her brain fogging in need. He pulled the wet suction of his mouth away and clamped her reddened nipple with a small suede covered clamp. She lost her breath for a second but it wasn’t necessarily pain, merely an aching pleasure. He repeated on the other side, suckling and groaning. The blood rushing into the now equally reddened tip, he placed the remaining clamp there, making her hiss at the bite. Terje leaned back so Oycher could admire her breasts.

“When I remove these,” Oycher said, his fangs lowering more, “the blood will rush back to your tips during your climax, cranking up your body’s awareness.” He stretched out his arm and retracted his claws. She watched in awe as they moved beneath his nails, making them appear almost human if it weren’t for their sheer size. Then, he reached beneath her chest and pinched the hard berries, pulsating with her heartbeat.

“Argh!” Goosebumps dotted her, a sheen of perspiration illuminating her skin. However, the sensation wasn’t…bad. She didn’t know what to think.

“Don’t think,” Oycher whispered, reading her mind. “Right now, let us think for you. Give in to the sensation. Learn to take pleasure in this new life we represent.”

His hands moved from her breasts, leisurely stroking down her stomach. Isla tried not to think of her scars and the extra pounds filling his hands, particularly while she had a knee up and gravity made matters worse.

“I scent her embarrassment,” Terje chided.

Oycher sighed. “She’s thinking uncomfortable thoughts about what belongs to us.” His hands moved lower, the tip of his index finger circling her navel. “If I could remove those insecurities by my will, I swear I would.”

His hair slid over her lower back, silky strands and beads sliding over her too-sensitive skin, and found her worst patch of scars. He kissed and licked while Terje reached between her thighs and hovered his fingertips right above her aching bundle of nerves. He swiped his fingertip over her damp bud as Oycher swiveled the tip of his tongue over her hip.

“You’re getting close to coming again.”

Could she manage to get relief this time? “When you touch me…it’s stronger. I can sense more without the hair.”

Pinching her clit again, he maintained his gentle but firm hold as he slid the small grip down her lips. Pressing and sliding, the friction was too much.

“Terje, stop!”

“I don’t sense that you want or need me to stop.” However, Terje withdrew. “Normally, immortals don’t use a safe word. That’s a human thing and not a part of our world. But since you’re very new to this dynamic, and you’re quite uncomfortable with our…teeth, let’s just set up one  right now.”

She needed a safe word? This sounded ominous. Oycher smacked her ass once, on the right cheek. She yelped, the stinging reverberating into a pleasure deep inside her core. “Ow!”

“Yes, ow,” Oycher murmured. “Fang is your safe word, though, I’ll undoubtedly know your distress before it’s verbalized.” He moved in front of her. “Now, stop thinking so hard.” Oycher dipped his head for a soul-searching kiss, a claiming and calming of her nerves all rolled into one. When he came up for air, he said to Terje, “Hand me the next leaf.”

She glanced at their reflection in the mirror. What a scary naughty sight they made. Terje’s shoulders were tense, his nostrils flaring, while he handed over another leaf for Oycher to butterfly.

“She’s already so wet that we could use her juice, instead.”

“Probably.” Long fingers twirled gel on her rosette, massaging, spreading the lubricant up and down the crack and then back to the ring of her anus. Although she wanted them, it was awkward sensing their gazes on her there, and she’d never really had her ass touched by anyone other than Terje. She squeezed her eyes shut and tensed. Another set of hands gently but insistently separated the globes of her ass when she tried to close her thighs.

Oycher directed, “Don’t clench, baby.” And when he and Terje were finished massaging her, Isla's legs were set wider apart than earlier.

Terje placed a reassuring palm on her lower back “Reach across the table, hands over your head, and grip the edge. Yes,” he praised, “that way, good.”

She opened her eyes to find Terje in front of her. Naked. His cock flat against his stomach, straining upward, the rods of his Nordic Inflixx seemed to glow in the shadows of the room.

“Her ass is tight.” Terje said. “I could barely penetrate her with the tip of my tongue.”

A fingertip pressed into her rosette, moving deeper and deeper, circling inside the tight ring. She tensed from the burning intrusion. “I don’t know about this.”

“It’s a gentle way to prepare you for taking two males at a time.” Terje moved over the table, his heavy cock swinging with his movements. “Do you want to stop? I didn’t hear your safe word.”

“No,” she hissed, tightening around Oycher's finger, “not…exactly.”

“Stop locking down on me,” Oycher said, threading his finger over her ring of muscles and moving in all the way to his hand. His other held her hip steady while Terje caressed her back and the sides of her breasts, keeping her stimulated while she accepted Oycher’s invasion. “Lift your hips more. Good. Push out when I push in.”

Terje pressed her upper back down as Oycher slid another finger home. She trembled everywhere, her clamped nipples raking against the textured leather. He slid his fingers back out and she tightened around him again, wondering if she was trying to keep him in or fight the overall burning-fullness sensation.

“Breathe through your nose, then out of your mouth. Concentrate on me, Isladora.” Terje pressed a reassuring kiss on her temple, lingering, while Oycher moved a leather-like strap around her ass with his free hand.

“I’m fastening you to the table. I want you to stay still, so you don’t squirm and hurt yourself. You can always safe word, and we’ll have you away from the table and free of our hands in immortal speed.”

“Okay,” she said breathlessly, not liking the sound of them removing their attention or their hands from her body, so maybe she’d stick it out.