All Hallows Eve, Vol. 3

Chapter 6

Six

“That was just the beginning,” Wade says, his warm, rich voice washing over me as his skilled fingers work an equally warm washcloth between my legs.

“That was…” I start before trailing off, unable to find the correct word.

Beckett set me down on a table before he sank into a leather armchair, looking to be completely in his element. His dark eyes never leave us. An even darker awareness skates through me as my core clenches, reminding me that not even five minutes ago, he was knot deep, with his mouth sucking my neck in a way that had me almost begging for a claiming mark.

“A teaser, Bunny,” Oz says against the shell of my ear, bringing me back to the present. “But next time, you'll be blindfolded.”

He drags the silk blindfold over my shoulder, and I shiver. The fact they both still have their clothes on hasn't gone unnoticed by me. Putting on a bold front, I palm his still hard length and turn to meet his eyes.

“Then I'm going to need you out of these so I can see what you'll be pounding into me.”

His wide mouth spreads into a promising grin, and he pops his button while holding my gaze. When I attempt to break eye contact to see what he's revealing, he grips my throat, tilting my chin back up.

With his free hand, he grabs ahold of my wrist and slips my fingers into his jeans. “There's more than one way to see.”

His skin is silky smooth beneath my touch, and he releases a low groan as I wrap my fingers around him. I drag my hold up his shaft, only to encounter a row of piercings.

Each barbell ends with tiny arrows instead of balls. When I loosen my hold, he wraps his fingers around mine, tightening my fist around him. The arrows press into my palm, and he ruthlessly drags our fingers up to his tip.

He hisses in pain and then encourages me to fist him all the way back to his growing knot.

“That's it, Bunny, pleasure and pain,” he pants, his breath becoming ragged as I repeat the motion without his help the second time. His precum soaks my hand with each stroke. He drops his head back, losing eye contact, his throat bobbing and his teeth clenching.

My stomach bottoms out at the power he's handed me, quite literally. And I drop my gaze to his steely length. How much can I get away with?

Wade catches my attention as he leans back on his heels, looking up at us with lust parting his lips, and I wish I could see his whole face, but he’s replaced the mask. I settle for lifting my foot and grazing his obvious hard-on through his jeans. He settles his hand over my foot, not stopping me or guiding me, just following my movements.

Ozwald’s fingers tighten on my neck before flowing up and tilting my head back to him. The light shining in the depths of his eyes is pure animal, the wolf mask painting the perfect picture of a barely contained beast. He thumbs my lower lip, his own mouth parting as he does. Then he presses the digit into my mouth. A slightly salty, yet sweet, taste buzzes through my tastebuds. As he watches my lips with heavy-lidded eyes I can see the second he snaps, losing control of his lust.

He trails a wet path with his thumb over my cheek as his hand moves to cup the back of my neck. Then he tugs me forward. His crown bumps my chin, and I break eye contact to shift slightly so I can taste him. Sweet, almost reminiscent of vanilla, and a sort of woodsy flavor bursts on my tongue. My toes curl over Wade’s length and both of them moan at the same time.

Do I know what I’m doing? Absolutely not, but they are enjoying it enough to let me continue. So I swirl my tongue around Oz’s swollen head. His fingers grip my neck as he holds me still and pushes forward. The barbells feel strange as they pass my lips, and I wonder how they will feel inside of me. The arrows aren’t painful; they just stick out far enough to graze my cheeks as I hollow them around him.

“Look at me, Bunny,” Oz commands. I lift my eyes to his, and he growls. “I like your innocent mouth wrapped around me. Feels so good.”

I hum around him, earning me another growl and a deeper thrust. My eyes water as he bumps the back of my throat and I instinctively graze him with my teeth. He hisses, his fingers curling into the hair at the base of my neck.

“That’s it, pain and pleasure,” he praises me.

While Oz fucks my mouth, Wade shifts my foot out of his lap, and I can hear him unzipping and the sound of his jeans moving.

When I attempt to shift my gaze to Wade, Oz tugs on my hair, “Eyes on me.”

The sensation of something dragging over my stomach, not soft enough to be the feathers from Wade’s mask, but not feeling like one single item. Instead, it feels like a bunch of soft leather with knots on the ends. Wade lifts it from my skin and snaps it lightly back to my belly. A tiny sting jolts my abs, clenching the muscle tight before releasing. He does it again, the tips smacking my sensitive nipple, and I gasp around Oz, and he thrusts deeper.

Wade follows his path of whatever whip he is using, soothing the sting with his mouth. He’s removed his shirt, because soft chest hair grazes my skin as he looms over me. I can feel his eyes on me seconds before another slap stings against my flesh. My whole body shudders with pain, followed by pleasure. It feels as if they are conditioning me to crave them both together.

And I’m positive Ozwald’s original words will hold true. I’m going to regret signing that NDA once this night is through because even if this is just sex, it’s the best I’ve ever experienced.

Oz slips from my lips. He strokes my cheek just below my mask with an almost loving touch. “When I come, it will be inside of you,” he says.

As if his words are all Wade needs to hear, he leans back again and says, “Kneel on the stool, Sugar, then lean forward.” He pats the leather bench they were preparing when I came in.

Without hesitation, I kneel on the stool and lean against the bench attached. They adjust me like I’m a doll, strapping my ankles spread wide, a belt around my middle to secure me to the actual bench, and leather cuffs around my wrists, holding me to the front legs. Once I’m not going anywhere, Wade circles into my view, the blindfold hanging from his fingers. His shirt is hanging open, and he’s wearing a pair of boxers that strain against his length.

“This will make the other sensations more intense,” he explains as he kneels down to my level. “Do you remember your words, Sugar?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Good girl, what are they?”

I wet my lips as he watches me. “Yellow to slow down. Grandma to stop.”

His mouth quirks up into a smirk. “Good.”

The satisfied tilt of his lips is the last thing I see before he wraps the blindfold around my mask and face, tying it securely behind my head. It feels like a full minute of laying on the bench exposed, with none of them touching me.

Anticipation builds to a crescendo inside of my chest, to the point of when the smack of the whip hitting my ass cheek has me crying out loudly. The sensation is a million times stronger than before. But not painful. No, it has slick almost gushing out of me.

Fuck that’s embarrassing. I whimper when silence builds again. And then, just like before, another slap on the other cheek. If I weren’t strapped to the bench, I would have jerked off of it. The third lands quickly, followed by a soothing palm. They seem to work together, one with the whip and the other with the soft touch.

They only stop when I’m on the verge of an orgasm just from being spanked. My whole body’s tightly strung like a guitar string, ready to be tuned. And the second the swollen head of one of their cocks spears my folds, I cry out, falling into my climax, a never-ending cyclone as he slowly works himself into my pussy. I squeeze around him, feeling the bars along his length. Unless Wade’s pierced too, it’s Oz sinking into me, his hands gripping my hips.

He grinds his hips against me, all the way in, knotting me on the first stroke.

“Oz,” I moan like a prayer, feeling him as deep as he can go.

Still, he moves as much as his body allows him. Pulsing his hips deeper, and deeper. Then I can feel his fingers between us before he slips one, then two, next to his knot. He works them around, squeezing his knot. He’s breaking the knotting, and I can feel him slip free. My body hates it and tries to hold him inside.

“Say my name again, Bunny,” he hisses, and then just as I think he’s going to slip free, he slams back into me.

The knot stretches me painfully wide without easing back in, and I cry out his name. He repeats it. The pain and pleasure make my brain short-circuit. And I’m not sure if I should sob or moan. Still, I take it all until he knots me one last time, and I feel him spill his seed into me.

He leans over me, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. “You’re lucky you signed an NDA, Bunny, because breeding you might be something I could become addicted to. And you don’t want my brand of crazy.”

I pulse around him, limp from every single muscle being tense and then not, over and over again. I might want his brand of crazy. But I don’t say that out loud. I know what this is, and it’s way better than eating candy in my PJ’s.

When his knot goes down enough to release him without help, I feel fingers at the bindings, releasing me. Then I’m lifted off the bench. Wade’s chest hair brushes my shoulder and side as he moves, and I sink into his warmth. He leaves the blindfold on as he settles me onto a soft surface that feels like a bed.

The surface dips beneath his weight as he nudges my knees apart. “I’m going to clean you up again, Sugar.”

Once he’s finished he presses a kiss against my lower stomach, the feathers of his mask missing, telling me he’s removed it. I can picture him in my mind. His hair perfectly styled and slicked back, in his suit and tie watching me with quiet intensity after asking for a file. I used to pretend he wanted me, and one day, he’d order me to get under his desk instead of fetch him a coffee. But he’s always been professional.

Until now.

He nuzzles into my stomach, and instinctively, my fingers thread through his silky hair. He's soft in a way the other two aren't. I can sense it in the care he's given, in the words he's used. It's a needed contrast for their pack, and it endangers my heart.

If this night was only sex, it would be easier to face them on Monday. But this right here, his purr rumbling in his chest is everything my lonely heart has craved over the years. I can feel tears that want to come, and I'm thankful for the blindfold still covering my eyes.

“Yellow,” I whisper as he presses a gentle kiss to my hip bone.

He inhales against me before pulling back. “Which part, Sugar?”

I swallow and tug on his hair. “Enough softness.”

He hums, and I can picture the disapproving look on his face. “It's called aftercare. There's a drop after play, and it will ease it for you.”

“What about you?” I whisper back, my voice cracking.

He chuckles, the sound like a balm for my soul. “ This is for me, too.”

I flex my fingers against his scalp, and he releases another purr that has me melting beneath him. “Okay.”

He presses soft butterfly kisses next to my navel that make my stomach flutter and my heart swell.

His eight o'clock shadow grazes my skin, sending goosebumps skittering down my spine. It has me arching off of the mattress, craving his touch like I've never craved anything before.

He works his way up my body. Worshiping me like I'm his everything. When he reaches my lips and captures my breath in a soul searing kiss, I know I'm done. I'm lost in him.

To him .

Wade moves between my legs, adjusting his cock against my folds.

“I'd take the blindfold off, but I want to enjoy this without the mask. Unless—” he trails off the question unspoken.

I run my fingers through his chest hair and shake my head, knowing without seeing that he's watching me.

He sinks slowly into me, my walls sensitive and sore from earlier, adding to the pleasure and unintended pain. He works moans from deep within me as he moves at a slow, sensual pace. Until I'm shaking and my climax launches me into another universe. But I cling to him, bringing him with me.

I float in the pleasant aftermath. Until he pulls back and a soft blanket takes his place.

The blindfold is removed, the light of the room making me blink. Each alpha watches me from behind their masks.

I curl my fingers into the blanket, drawing it further up to my chin.

Oh crap.

How am I going to face them on Monday knowing that they each have destroyed the world as I knew it?