Surrender to Fire: Maison Chronicles, Book 3 (21 page)

Damien stretched her hands above her head. “Just me, sweetheart. I didn’t leave.” He trailed a hand down her body, then between her legs, hissing when he encountered the irrefutable proof of her arousal. “Did you like the idea of two men touching you?” His words were calm, but his hands on her tightened.

“Yes, Sir.” Cam focused on his words and his body, letting everything else drift away from her.

“Would you like two men fucking you?”

She tried on the idea, of letting Damien share her with another man, then shook her head. “No, Sir.” Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I just want you.”

He groaned, bucking his clothing-covered erection against her ass. “Good.” His possessive tone heated her blood.

With his fingers, he brought her to the edge of orgasm, then stopped. She cried out in betrayal, but instead of resuming his strokes, he left the bed. “Stay right there. Don’t you dare come.”

More waiting, not long this time, though. She heard a zipper, then another, then fabric
whoosh
es, and he was back, his thighs pressing against her hamstrings. But he was thankfully, blissfully naked and it took all her will to hold still instead of sinking back against him. “I’m going to fuck you now, but you are not allowed to come without permission.”

She almost sobbed. Control escaped her whenever Damien was inside her. There was no way she’d be able to comply. “Sir—”

A smack on her ass shut her up. “Don’t speak, or I’ll have to gag you.”

Oh Lord. That casual threat alone made her pussy clench. It shouldn’t have turned her on, but there it was, evidence in her aching nipples and needy core. His cock breached her entrance, stretching her still-sensitive tissues. The pleasure-pain spiked through her, reigniting the orgasm she’d just staved off. Fuck.

Cam tried distracting herself by scrolling through her work to-do list, but she’d get two bullet points in and Damien would move again in that slow, in-and-out drag he had going. She groaned and his pace kicked up.

“Look at you, so eager for my come.” She shivered. “So horny and desperate I bet you’d let me fuck your mouth again.” Her whimper kicked him into a faster gear. When his thumb stroked across her back entrance, she jerked away, then closer, needing more of that dark pleasure. He traced little circles around her hole. “I bet you’d even let me fuck you here.”

Vertigo claimed her body and she clung to the sheets as reality crumbled around her. Damien’s thumb fucked her ass in time with his hard, vigorous thrusts into her pussy and she started begging. She was going to come, with or without permission, all thanks to that insidious dual penetration.

“Come for me, now,” he demanded and she did, shattering around him, feeling every twitch of his cock as he came with her.

In the hour between playing at the cabin and performing the demo scene, Cam never really came out of subspace. She drifted up and down, but he kept her there with cuffs on her wrists and constant reminders of her submission.

In the auditorium, Damien made her stand, naked except for a barely there thong, in the middle of the stage, back to the audience. When Damien locked her cuffs onto a metal bar that dropped down from the auditorium ceiling, then used a spreader bar to trap her ankles, the delicious vulnerability prickled her skin. He again blindfolded her, but added a ball gag before tucking a rattle ball into her right fist.

She was good and trussed up.

“Don’t move, Camille.” His warning abraded her senses and cream soaked her panties. If any man could talk her into an orgasm, it would be him.

Damien warmed her up while he instructed the audience, alternating ice and heat to prepare her skin. He applied a chilled blade to her ass and she jumped, a little squeak coming through around the gag.

“I told you not to move, sub.” He slapped the chilled patch.

Cam bit back her moan. The things he did to her…

Caught up in her pleasure, she stopped listening to Damien’s lecture and simply waited for his next move. Would he use wax again? Would he let her come?

Icy spikes pricked up and down her spine and she jerked forward, almost losing her balance. What was that?

Damien’s evil-genius laugh rumbled through the room. “Sometimes temperature needs to be augmented by sensation play. This is a pinwheel, or Wartenburg Wheel, that I’ve had sitting in ice.” The approving rumble of the observing Doms brushed at her sensitized skin. She couldn’t see them, but she could feel them. Their eyes crawled over her body, not unwelcome, but prickling her skin as they drank in the demo.

Light footsteps crossed the stage, then a warm, hard body pressed against her front. She flinched as this man’s unfamiliar scent, woodsy with a hint of bergamot, drifted to her.

For a moment, she struggled, then Damien pressed himself against her back. “Calm down, sweetheart. It’s okay.” She calmed under his words.

Once he returned his attention to the audience, her mystery partner leaned down. “You still have your safe words,
amor
. Remember your bell ball.”

That caramel voice drizzled over her, thick and sweet. Not intimidating in the least. She relaxed further, then nodded.

His thumbs rubbed little circles on the insides of her wrists. She shivered, which brought her into closer contact with his firm chest—and the unmistakable erection he was sporting. Arousal flared. She’d done that to him. Unthinking, she aligned her body against his, reaching for that wonderful tactile sensation of being flush against a man’s body.

The evil Wartenburg Wheel returned, rolling down her spine and across the cold, tender flesh of her ass. Cam jolted forward into her captor’s chest. When the pinpricks continued lower, down her thighs and over the sensitive back of her left knee, she cried out, muffled by the gag.

It hurt, but damn if she hadn’t soaked through her panties. Between the hot man in front of her and the hotter man behind who was doing deliciously torturous things to her, she dropped like a stone, deeper into subspace, until her whole world was sensation and instinct and reaction.

Cam floated in her body as ice and fire and Damien’s touch curled through her body and settled in her aching, empty pussy.

In a disorienting move, she was turned sideways, held steady by the unknown man. When Damien pressed against her back, she shuddered, sandwiched between their tall bodies, leather and denim and cotton brushing against her bare skin. “You love this, don’t you?”

She nodded and got a smack on the ass in return. Damien unbuckled the ball gag, then rubbed at her jaw to ease the slight ache. “Answer me now, girl.”

She wouldn’t lie to him. “Yes, Sir.”

His voice rose high enough to echo throughout the room. “You don’t even know this man and you’re wet for him.”

Humiliation flooded through her, followed by a tsunami of lust. Damien’s hand reached between her legs. “See, wet. Say it, slut.” His fingers rubbed across her clit while his words throbbed in her blood.

The other man released her wrists and, instead, cupped her breasts. His thumbs brushed across her tender nipples. “Admit it,” he chimed in.

She couldn’t hold back under that onslaught. “Yes, Sir! So good…”

“You would come for two men, right in front of all these people, wouldn’t you?”

She shook her head no. Too exposed, too vulnerable.

One of the men bit her neck. Goose bumps sprang down her spine. “No lies, girl.”

Too much, all her control slipping from her fingers. Cam wouldn’t come like this, no way, she put her foot down.

A thumb pressed at her lips. “Taste yourself.” She opened and let the musky, honeyed flavor roll on her tongue. “See how turned on you are? You would come for us right here, slut.”

She tried to shake her head no, but was held firmly in place by a strong hand on her jaw. Threads of panic wove through her. “You’re so close that we could make you come even if you said no.”

The truth jolted her. Bound, braced between the men, turned on more than she could ever remember being… They could do whatever they wanted. She was powerless.

No—she could safe-word. Anticipation hung heavily in the air, as if they were waiting for her to say it. Blood throbbed in her clit, wafts of air brushed over her skin, cold except where her men braced her up—the men her body sang for.

“Green,” she whispered, the universal club word for “go ahead”.

Two hands, then four, caressed her skin, running from her ankles up to her wrists, hitting everything in between until she was wound tight as a spring.

The other man skimmed his hands down her body, then between her legs. Foreign fingers touched her intimately. And she tightened her legs as much as the spreader bar would allow.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to come for us whether you like it or not.”

Sweetheart.
She belonged to Damien. He was there, giving her permission to enjoy this. Her little fantasy, two men touching her. She relaxed her legs and when those fingers went questing again, brushing across her clit and farther, deeper, she cried out.

“Good girl.” The man stroked over her G-spot. “So tight, so ready. Greedy little pussy.”

Something cold and wet traced down her spine. Cam lurched forward, taking those fingers even deeper. His thumb rubbed over her clit. At her back, Damien’s tongue followed the cold trail he’d blazed, searing her flesh. A finger prodded her back hole, slick and cool, before slipping inside. So full…

She gasped. “Sir, please!”

His teeth sank into the cheek of her ass. Pain and hot and cold and pleasure coalesced around every point of contact. Damien stood, aligned himself with her back again. “Are you going to come for the audience?”

Heat blazed her cheeks. She’d forgotten where she was, that all this was being witnessed by a room full of people.

The tinge of humiliation catapulted her pleasure higher. “Come for me, sweetheart. Come
now
.” Damien’s command threw her over the edge.

She burst apart in their arms, stars erupting behind her eyelids. Her scream choked in her throat, silenced by the unbelievable pleasure exploding from every nerve ending. Tingles started at her scalp and worked downward as she shook from the most intense orgasm of her life.

In front of an audience.

From a man she didn’t know.

Spurred on by the man she loved.

Overwhelmed, exhausted, confused and yet supremely satisfied, Cam couldn’t fight the tears that welled up behind the blindfold. While the audience erupted in applause and the mystery man left her presence, Cam scrambled to make sense of what had happened.

Damien swept her into his arms. She tucked her head against his chest. Even though she still wore the blindfold, she needed to hide from the curious eyes of their audience. Cam expected to be put down on the staging-room couch after a few steps.

When their journey extended past that, she stirred. “Where are we going?”

“The cabin.”

His clipped words set off warning bells. They would just have to get in line. Besides, he was probably as worn out as she was after such an intense scene.

The fresh outdoor air revived her a bit, blowing away some of the heavy emotions left over from the scene. Not all of them, but enough. She looped her arms around Damien’s neck and breathed him in, soaking in his nearness.

All too soon, he pushed open the cabin door and had her settled on the bed, tucked against his side. She had so much she wanted to say, like “thank you” and “that was incredible, but I don’t want any man except you to touch me again” and “I love you”. But while she dithered over whether she should actually admit any of that, sleep pulled her under.

They would have to talk about it later.

Once Cam had passed out in bed, Damien slipped his arm from under her body and left her alone in the bedroom. He needed a little space to figure out what the fuck had just happened. He’d never been the jealous type, especially with women when he scened. Even with Natali, he’d not been ruffled by her flirting with other men, though that had been an intentional attempt to get a rise out of him.

Determined to set aside his unease, he got some work done, checking in with Evan then Officer Davis. The former teased him mercilessly for leaving work to spend time with a woman—the latter had no more information for him, except that they wanted Camille to come down to the station and answer some questions.

Shit. He tugged at his hair, wishing he had the answers. He guessed he could tell Camille about Shawn now, but he knew she’d be pissed that he’d withheld the information. He’d wait until the drive home, then talk to her. Kat had offered to let them stay the night, but their weekend was essentially over. No sense in prolonging the inevitable.

During the demo, he’d marveled at what a beautiful submissive Camille was, her responses intense and visual. She’d make some man a very happy Dom. And while his stomach had curdled at allowing Kat’s boy, Javier, to touch her, she’d come undone at that twist in his scene.
Not yours
, he’d kept reminding himself as he watched another man’s hands take liberties with her body.

That had cemented his decision to stand by their established agreement, which ended tonight. She didn’t need another man abusing her trust and that’s exactly what would happen if things continued. She’d get emotionally invested, he’d be unable to commit or sufficiently share his life with her and she’d just get hurt. This was better. Like ripping off a bandage.