Page 41 of Deadmen's Captive

Chapter Nineteen

NATE

The crowd's roar of gratification resonated through the hall at Paige’s visible surrender. They seemed to enjoy the sight of their leader defiling her as much as he did. She was a spectacle to be devoured by their lecherous eyes, a trophy for their leader. And she was simply stunning hung there for our pleasure and at our mercy.

I ran my hand up the back of her neck, marvelling at the softness of her skin and hair, before sliding my hand around to her throat and tightening my grip. Her eyes widened as I cut off some of her airflow, but I felt the tiniest relaxation as she realised she could still breath. Below me, Tristan kneeled before our queen, ready for his own trial. The crowd murmured, enjoying the spectacle. This ritual was always one of the most anticipated of the year, and those who had been here last year knew their own sexual diversions waited above. Once the debasement of Persephone was complete, the party would start and the hall would turn into a veritable orgy.

Paige's breath hitched in her throat and I felt it constrict under my hand as Tristan began to lick her pussy. Bast lounged on his throne, turned so he had the best view of our girl, a small smile of satisfaction on his face as she squirmed in her restraints. Although they were leather, her skin was soft, and she’d probably be marked for days from them. My cock stiffened at the thought of angry red marks over her pale golden skin and I looked down past her luscious breasts to where my friend was eating her out with enthusiasm.

Tristan seemed to be cherishing his task, his tongue a leisurely stroke against Paige's skin, eliciting soft moans that reverberated through the room. The crowd watched every moment, but it was easy to see from our position the amount of guys stroking their own cocks under the table. Let them. Let them come all over their fucking pants. They could watch, but they couldn’t ever touch. Paige was ours. If anyone else laid a hand on her, I’d cut their fucking hand off and feed it to them.

I watched, my heart racing, my body coiled tight like a spring. The sight of her—wrapped in pleasure, her body arching under Tristan's touch—it was torture and bliss intertwined. I could almost taste the sweetness of her, my tongue aching for a turn.

Paige's body buckled and twisted as Tristan worked his magic, her eyes shut tight against the spectacle. Her moans grew louder, her breaths coming harder until finally, a high pitched sob broke from her throat. The audience erupted in cheers but Paige was too consumed by the crashing waves of her orgasm, the pleasure making her insensible to everything else.

"Your turn," Tristan said as he pulled away, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and moved aside for me. I didn't waste any time in dropping to my knees as he had.

Paige looked down at me, and though the golden mask hid her face completely, I could see the glint of her eyes in their depths. She shook her head, whimpering, but there would be no denial. Not now. Not when we'd all waited for this moment.

I looked at her pussy, her slick folds only inches from my face. Her arousal coated her inner thighs and I breathed in her scent. Sweet. Headier than any drug. Stronger than the best alcohol. My cock throbbed at the sight and I fought the urge to bury myself within her. I ran a finger along her swollen folds, eliciting a gasped moan. She was so wet, so ready, and I wanted to fuck her till she screamed.

I licked my lips in anticipation and lowered my mouth to her pussy. I began to lick her, taking my time with each stroke, savouring the taste of her. I wanted her to come undone for me too, just like she had for Tristan. Her hips jerked at my first stroke and I held her down tightly, wanting her to fight me. She was sensitive, but I didn't care. It was my turn, and I took what I wanted. I found her clit, and sucked hard on it. She twisted and buckled beneath me. Low sobs echoed in her throat, her body trembling violently as pleasure gripped her. Her hands clenched and unclenched, yearning to touch, to take control but the chains kept her pinned. It was a sight that sent a jolt of satisfaction coursing through me.

I savoured every sound she made, every twitch of her body beneath my hands and mouth. But despite the gratification the act brought me, it wasn't enough. I wanted more. And by the way Paige writhed and moaned under me, she did too. I brought one hand up between her legs, dragging my finger through her wetness until I could push it inside her. The feeling nearly had me coming in my pants like a fucking kid. She was so fucking tight as I pushed deeper inside, savouring the untouched velvet heat of her, and she cried out at the intrusion. It was satisfaction, a confirmation of her purity, the proof that made my own body respond with a fierce and almost feral hunger.

Her skin glistened with a fine layer of sweat, highlighting the dips and curves, making her even more enticing. I started to move my finger in and out of her, and her breathing hitched, becoming laboured and heavy as she neared another peak. The sight of this beautiful girl unravelling under my touch was pure rapture.

I added another finger, thrusting them slowly in and out of her, and felt her body tense with each move. I continued feasting on her as my fingers delved deeper, relishing the mewls she made every time they brushed against some sensitive spot within her.

I felt the unmistakable tightening around my fingers that signalled her impending release and I flicked my tongue harder over her clit. The tightness around my fingers sent a surge of power straight to my groin, an urge so primal it bordered on possession. Paige’s cries grew louder, more desperate and her thighs quivered against the sides of my head, muscles tensing with every lash of my tongue. She was close; I could feel the telltale signs of her body giving in to the onslaught of sensation. My fingers curled inside her, craving the sweet rush of her release over my tongue as I lapped at her pussy. Unable to fight it any longer, my hand dropped to the front of my robes. Facing away from the crowd, no one except Bast and Tristan could see as I rubbed at my hard cock beneath the fabric.

I thought back to the club two weeks ago when I’d been assigned to watch her, and that dickhead that had tried to lay his hands on her. I’d scared him off, and danced with her, feeling her small body against mine and had the strangest desire to protect her. To kill anyone who dared touch her or cause her harm. I’d found him afterwards of course. I closed my eyes, revelling in her taste as I remembered the glorious feeling of his blood spilling over my hand as I knifed the bastard over and over again. My cock strained against my pants, and I reached out, grabbing her thigh to bring her pussy hard against my mouth as I thrust my fingers harder inside her.

A scream tore from her throat as she came undone under my touch, her body shaking violently with the intensity of her orgasm. The sweet taste of her release coated my tongue, intoxicating me even more than before. Her body bucked under my touch and her back arched, her body jerking against her restraints.

Paige's cry echoed through the room, a raw sound that had every man in the room stiffening in their seats and the sound was enough to send me over the edge. The audience exploded into cheers and applause, their raucous celebration mirroring the savage satisfaction coursing through me. Paige sagged limply against the chains, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

A rush of heat surged through my veins, and without warning, my control shattered. My own orgasm ripped through me, silent, violent, a secret shared only with the darkness of my trousers. I watched, transfixed, as she fell apart before me. The sight—a brutal, beautiful undoing.

"God," I gasped under my breath, half cursing the warm wetness in my pants. This woman had undone me like no other. I got to my feet, wiping my mouth, then turned and half bowed to Bast, who grinned, his eyes flicking to Paige’s body behind me. I looked back too.

Tristan had let Paige’s skirt fall back into place. Although she might have felt on show, we had made sure that her pussy was always concealed by our heads or by her skirt, and the Reapers below us had only been granted the sight of her gorgeous breasts. Her body surrendered, all the fight draining from her limbs, and she hung limply on the wall, whimpering quietly.

Bast got to his feet, raising his glass in Paige's direction. “To Persephone,” he said. “The future queen of the Underworld.”

“Persephone.” The toast rang out across the room and she lifted her head at the name, but barely. She must be exhausted. Her role was done for the night now, so as Bast gave orders for more food and drink as well as the whores, both male and female, to be brought in, I crossed back over to the wall and unclipped one wrist, wrapping her arms around my neck. Tristan knelt to unfasten her ankles, and I did the other wrist, catching her in my arms as her legs gave out from under her.

"Easy now," I murmured.

"We’ve got you," Tristan said, his tone softer than I'd ever heard it.

The leather restraints slipped off with ease, baring delicious marks on her delicate wrists and I pressed my lips to the nearest, making her wince. My cock, although spent, twitched at her whimper, and I sucked in my breath.

“I’ll take it from here,” I told Tristan. He narrowed his eyes, but then nodded.

“I’ll stay with Bast for the time being. Take care of our girl.”

I scooped Paige up, her body a delicate weight in my arms and headed for a nearby doorway. The club had plenty of bedrooms and meeting rooms, and other kinds of rooms, but right now, we needed one that was private and equipped for what Paige needed, and Bast had made sure this one was ready. I closed the door to the bedroom behind us, creating a quiet sanctuary from the chaos of the feasting hall.

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