Dom and I moaned in unison as he followed his lover’s orders, grabbing the footboard with his bound hands to steady himself. I wanted to rub my thighs together—whether to deny the moisture that was building there or to give my aching flesh some relief, I don’t know.
Adam placed his hands on Dom’s hips, just the way Lugh’s hands rested on mine. And when Adam started to caress up and down Dom’s flanks, Lugh’s hands mirrored the motion. My skin quivered under his touch as his hands slid down past the hem of my dress and then up again. The dress was still a fragile barrier between us, but I knew that wouldn’t last long. Some little part of me thought that maybe I should object, but, of course, I didn’t.
When Adam’s hands cupped Dom’s ass, Lugh pushed the hem of my dress up and out of the way. I wasn’t surprised to discover I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Feeling Lugh’s hands on my naked bottom was practically enough to set me off all by itself, even without the visual of Adam and Dom.
“Don’t you dare come yet!” Adam said sternly, and though he was supposed to be talking to Dom, I had a feeling the words were meant equally for me.
Dominic uttered an incoherent protest and pushed himself more firmly into Adam’s hands. Adam made a clucking sound with his tongue as he ceased the caress and put his fists on his hips. I no longer felt Lugh’s hands on my bottom, and the loss inspired a pitiful mewl of displeasure.
“You should know better than to complain,” Adam said, his voice even sterner.
“I’m sorry!” Dominic sobbed, but even an S&M ingenue such as myself could tell there was no genuine remorse or distress in his voice.
“I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”
My brain wasn’t functioning at optimal efficiency, but even so, I could put two and two together. Lugh had been mirroring with me what Adam had been doing to Dominic. And Adam was about to do something to Dominic I had no desire to experience for myself.
Lugh sensed my fear before I could even come close to articulating it. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, and I believed him implicitly.
Adam gave Dominic a long, agonizing moment to think about what was going to happen. From my vantage point, I could easily see the way Dom’s buttocks tensed as he waited, his thighs quivering with anticipation. If I’d needed any reassurance that he was loving every minute of this, all I had to do was take a look at his cock, flushed and stiff, ready for action.
When Adam pulled back his hand, both Dom and I held our breath. Then when Adam’s hand gave him a frighteningly firm smack, we both cried out.
I would have jumped about a mile if my feet weren’t so firmly pinioned, because Lugh’s hand smacked me at the same time. I was about to make an indignant protest about him breaking his promise, but I realized almost instantly that, despite the loud noise I’d heard, Lugh had given me nothing more than a gentle pat. No pain whatsoever, though that didn’t stop me from flinching when he did it again.
It was a distinctly … odd sensation, watching Adam turn Dom’s ass red with blow after blow while a shadow of those blows fell on my own flesh. Dom was clearly loving every minute of it, his cock dripping pre-cum despite the fact that it should have hurt like hell. I couldn’t at first decide whether my body was enjoying the simultaneous stimulation or not, but as Dominic’s cries of pleasure surrounded me and seemed to echo off the invisible walls, my internal censor—the one who told me I was strictly forbidden to enjoy anything about this experience—went on vacation.
I felt like I was both myself and Dominic at the same time, watching the action as well as feeling it, but feeling it only as pleasure. The boundaries of my self blurred and bled, and I was lost in a sea of sensation.
Adam was tearing open the button fly of his jeans now, and Dominic was begging for release, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs, just like mine was. When Adam mounted him, I fully expected Lugh to take me. I was too far gone to stop him, or even to care. I just wanted to come with a desperate urgency that took every ounce of my concentration.
But as Adam began to thrust, it wasn’t Lugh’s cock I felt between my legs, but his hand. If he hadn’t created such a thorough illusion that Dominic and I were one, I doubt it would have been enough to satisfy me. As it was, I could hardly breathe through the pleasure of his touch as his hand stroked me in time to Adam’s thrusts.
You know how a tsunami kind of sucks all the water around it into its center and then explodes out from there? That’s what this was like. Every ounce of my attention, every sensation in my entire body, seemed to be sucked down into my core. And then Dominic cried out his release, and all that energy, all that sensation that had gathered in my center, exploded outward.
I think I screamed, but honestly, I was too overwhelmed to remember anything very clearly afterward. All I knew was that I’d never felt anything like that before. And, good as it was, I wasn’t sure I could survive ever feeling anything like that again.
CHAPTER 21
I woke up groggy and disoriented. The image of Adam and Dom seemed burned on my retinas, and I was actually confused to open my eyes and not see Lugh’s decadent king-sized bed. Instead, I was sprawled inelegantly on an uncomfortably hard twin bed in a room that could have passed for a closet in some houses.
My skin felt hot and flushed, and my pulse still rushed with the remembrance of pleasure. I wanted to lie back down, to drift back into sleep before I had to think about what had just happened. I wondered if I had screamed as loud in real life as I had in the dream, and that was enough to dispel the last remnants of sleep. I would die of embarrassment if Raphael and Saul had heard anything.
They didn’t, Lugh reassured me, but I didn’t particularly want to hear his voice right now, and he didn’t add any more commentary.
The bedside clock said it was almost five o’clock, and I gaped at it in shock. I’d come to lie down around one. I could hardly believe I’d slept almost four hours. On the plus side, the headache was gone, as was the nausea, so maybe the sleep—and the events that had occurred during that sleep—had been just what the doctor ordered. I shied away from thinking about the dream, unwilling to face the aftermath.
My clothes were getting pretty rancid, so I borrowed some shorts and a T-shirt from Raphael and stuck my own outfit in the wash. I felt a moment of envy as I turned on the washer, which resided in the basement of Raphael’s house. I longed for the good old days, when I’d had a house of my own, complete with a washer and dryer I didn’t have to share with a hundred other people.
Once again, Saul was nowhere in evidence, though I presumed that, as before, if I made a run for it, he would magically appear to stop me. Not that I actually wanted to make a run for it at this point. I didn’t know who was hosting Psycho Demon right now, but I had to assume it was yet another innocent bystander, and if by some coincidence I should run into him at The Seven Deadlies, I’d need help making sure the host and I both survived the encounter.
The only part of the dream with Lugh that I allowed myself to think about just now was the part where he’d told me I had to put some work into my relationship with Brian if I wanted to have a relationship with him. It was true that just about any time we had a fight, it was Brian who later came bearing the olive branch. I could hardly argue that it wasn’t my turn. But the question remained, would I do more harm than good if I tried to make peace now?
I deliberately poked at my open wound, mentally reliving the moment when I’d realized that Brian believed that I’d cheated on him. The pain stabbed through me with an almost physical force, and I had to fight like hell not to recoil from it and shove it into an imaginary closet where it would never see the light of day again.