Page 13 of My Indecent Valentine

I look at Samite, the love of my life, my favorite person in the whole world. Focus on him, I tell myself. I grow tall as my spine elongates, and I roll my shoulders back. “Finish undressing me,” I say. There’s not much left, just my panties and borrowed heels.

An uncertain look flashes across Samite’s face, but he takes a knee and slides my panties off without a word. I kick off the shoes with too much gusto, and they go sailing off the stage. I’m naked. My hands may be trembling, but I’m standing tall. I reposition, facing out to invite the audience’s gaze. They can look all they want. I am beautiful and strong even when I shake.

“You’re awfully quiet, Samite. What are you thinking?” Magleon says with an irritated growl.

He hesitates a moment before answering. “I’m considering how to help her relax. One of the easiest ways to get Sofia’s mind off of things is to flip her over and eat her out from behind,” he says and rises to his feet.

My eyes go wide, and my face flushes red hot with a mix of embarrassment and titillation.

“Come here, wife,” he says, taking my hand and guiding me to the giant ottoman. “Onto your hands and knees, please.”

“Samite,” I say, on a faltering breath. “Can’t we start with something else?” I only just won the battle of standing naked in front of people. This is more of a giant leap than a next step.

“No,” he shakes his head. “These fires aren’t comforting you. If I can make you come fast and hard, it’ll be good for your nerves. Trust me.”

My skin is jumping as I crawl onto the ottoman and get on all fours, but I do trust him. Nothing distracts me faster than my husband, and nobody can make me come the way he can. Samite’s hands slide over my hips, and he tugs me towards him, adjusting my position. I feel a warm sizzle in my belly at his familiar touch.

The ottoman bounces as he settles onto the cushion behind me, and that’s the only warning I get before his tongue sweeps over me from my clit to my back entrance, and I muffle a startled groan. I clamp my mouth shut, determined to stifle my reactions. My thoughts are my own. But I nearly cry out again as he spreads my cheeks wider and licks me a second time and then a third time. Sweet Mother Below, it feels amazing, and my toes curl with the effort to keep quiet.

Under the harsh blue flame, my awareness of our audience and the trembling of my hands register in a new way. It’s an exotic spice mixed into a traditional dish, surprising, sharp, and complex. Do I like it? I’m flushed hot all over, and my head is buzzing. It’s overwhelming, but I’m not ready for it to stop.

“Keep going,” I whisper, the words slipping out of my mouth before I can pull them back. He has to keep going. I can’t bear the thought of him stopping now. It’s too good.

His long tongue plunges into me, then darts in and out. I bit into my bottom lip because, holy sweet bliss, I feel like I’m going to shout. He shifts lower and sucks on my clit. My thighs clench in a quick spasm, but I swallow down a powerful groan threatening to break free. That is until I hear a murmur from the shadows. “I don’t think he’s doing a very good job. She doesn’t seem to like it.”

¡Pinche críticos! Everyone’s a critic. My blood boils in an instant. I curse under my breath before I relax back into my husband’s pulsing licks and let loose. I roll my hips against his face and moan out his name before begging him for more. “Dámelo, mi esposo.” Give it to me. I want it all. He growls happily, and his tongue licks and dips, hitting me in all the places he knows I like. I hold none of my noises back because he is a master at work, and the world should know how marvelous he is. My awareness goes soft and hazy as I’m swept away by the pleasure of Samite’s talented mouth working me into a soaring state of bliss.

It’s not long before the intensity spikes. My breath comes in short gasps, my limbs tremble, and heat rushes to my extremities. He can tell how close I am. He nuzzles into me more frantically, and I can feel the cartilage of his nose flexing against me in his eagerness to push me over the edge. My generous husband likes it when I come on his face. His tongue darts with the fervor of a maestro, laving over my clit with quick, unrelenting licks that have me mewling and gasping just before I unravel like a spool of yarn, like a gibbering, moaning, wheezing spool of yarn.

My body is sapped of all strength. My arms give out, and I face plant onto the bed with my ass still up in the air. Samite slaps it. “Good wife,” he says smugly, and I snort as I collapse the rest of the way onto the ottoman. My head spins, and a giddy giggle escapes me. I’ve never come quite like this, and I’m perversely proud of the fact that there are witnesses to his accomplishment. Samite deserves a medal or one of those giant trophy belts for his glorious display of sexual prowess. I stretch out, enjoying my post-orgasm haze for too short of a moment before it starts to fade, washed out by the intensity of the blue flames that insist on bringing the world back into sharp focus.

Damn it.

I glance up to find that Magleon is standing on the far side of the ottoman. He’s staring at us with bright, glowing eyes. No, not us. Samite. I glance back at him, too. Did he know Magleon was there? They make eye contact, and I catch a fine wisp of smoke escaping Samite’s eyes before it disappears. I startle. Were his eyes smoking earlier, and now they’ve stopped? Or did they start smoking for Magleon? The question prickles in my mind. I’ve only ever seen his eyes smoke for me.

“Come stand over here,” Samite waves to Magleon, and the giant black-horned demon hurries to Samite’s side with eager strides. When he gets there, Samite reaches for me. He grabs hold of my waist and flips me onto my back. My bare heels land on the ottoman, and my bent knees knock together. The blue flame is doing its thing again, and I’m acutely aware of my nakedness. I shift uncomfortably. The blissful, relaxing warmth of my orgasm is gone, and once again, I feel exposed.

I will not shrink.

Samite lays a hand on my thigh, close to my knee. “Put your hand on mine,” he says to Magleon, and the demon does as he’s told. “You can touch me, but not her,” Samite says firmly, and Magleon nods in swift agreement. “Now, watch how well she responds to touch,” he says, and there’s a light in his eye that brings to mind the image of a boy bragging about his favorite toy. He did say he wanted to show me off and that he’d enjoy doing it.

He comes to himself for a moment and looks at me. “Are you okay with this?” he asks, searching my face. “His hands won’t come to rest on you, I promise.”

“I’m okay.” I nod. Touching is not allowed except by invitation. That was Samite’s stipulation. Magleon was quick to add that if no invitation were forthcoming, then Samite must include him in other ways. “The fantasy is an interplay between you and me. I will not merely sit by and watch,” he grumbled, fist thumping on the table.

“I will not forget that this is your fantasy and that you are the star. I will make you the focus,” Samite promised. “But, mark my words. If you so much as lay a finger on her without permission, I will break your horns clean off your head.”

Samite runs his hand up my leg with Magleon’s much larger, weightier hand on top of his. I press into my heels and rise up to meet them as they glide over me. My skin tingles, and I let out a sigh as they come up to cup my breast. Magleon isn’t trying to touch me, but his thick fingers can’t avoid a light skimming. Samite’s hand begins to work in a circle, massaging my breast. His thumb swipes back and forth over my nipple, and my breaths shorten. His touch stirs my blood and warms me quicker than any flame.

“She has exquisite tits, and she knows it,” Samite says with a smirk, eyes glinting. “She likes it when I fuck them.” With his free hand, he draws a line up and down my sternum where his cock would go in case anyone needed help imaging it. “When she’s palming her breasts and squeezing them around my cock, it’s like looking into the glorious abyss. A sight of pure wonder.” His eyelids go heavy as he brags, and his sharp teeth flash behind his smug grin. This charming arrogance is the Samite I know, but what doesn’t feel like him is how easily he’s sharing right now. The tension and strain from earlier are gone, and I have to wonder if he and Magleon once had a friendship like this, one where Samite opened up about things that excited him.

“I believe you,” Magleon says, a smile tugging at his mouth as he glances from Samite to me, then back to Samite.

“We might do that later,” he says with an impish grin for me, but in a voice that's amplified for Magleon.

The blue fire isn’t just brightness. It’s clarity, I’m coming to understand, and it illuminates the shift that’s happening right in front of me. Up to this point, Samite’s focus has been entirely on me, on helping me relax, on making me come. Now it's split. Magleon has most of his attention. He has become the star of this show, just as Samite promised. A budding jealousy springs up in me even as they move apart and Magleon’s hand returns to his side.

Samite grips me by the thighs and pulls me towards the edge of the ottoman until my legs are draping over the side. “This is another sweet spot, tender yet ticklish,” he says to Magleon, addressing him like he’s a favorite pupil or the only guest on a private tour. His thumbs rub into the hollows of my hips. “She’ll giggle and swipe at me if I rub too lightly, but if I knead into her like this, her legs start to spread on their own.” What? That’s not true. But, looking down, sure enough, my legs have opened up for him.

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