Page 78 of Audacity

‘Well, we all enjoyed that little spectacle,’ Benedict tells me, sounding a little less in control as he helps me upright. ‘How are you feeling? You want a break? A drink?’

I shake my head. ‘No. I’m fine.’ My second orgasm has me blanketed in an aura of calm and warmth and wellbeing. I have no intention of quitting now.

There’s also no way I’m taking a break until I’ve found myself on Gabe’s lap.

Guy Number Three turns me around so I’m facing outwards, my legs stretched open and my feet planted on the outside of his. He undoes my bindings so I can fit more tightly against him and rubs my wrists. When I sit on his cock, it burns my swollen flesh in the best way. He has me do the work of raising and loweringmyself as he plays with my tits, plucking at my nipples as if he can make music from them.

Crisp cotton and hard muscle brush my back, his breath is hot on my neck, and the fabric of his open zip abrades my clit every time he bottoms out in me. God, this is good. This is really good. I love how he’s holding me open for the rest of the room to enjoy, and the way he’s working my tits is giving me so much extra stimulus.

I’ve always been greedy when it comes to sex, and my body is screamingmore, more, more.It doesn’t know when to stop.

It’s incapable of walking away from something like this.

I hear a squirt of what sounds like lube, and then: ‘Get me off,’ Benedict orders, materialising somewhere in front of me again and taking my hand. He wraps it around his dick, which is huge and hard and bare and lubed-up, the heat pulsing off it.

Poor Benedict. Such a sexy, accomplished MC and so patient. He deserves to get off, too. I slide my index finger through the mess of precum and lube at the tip and then work his length with smooth, assured pumps, all the while maintaining my rhythm of bouncing on this other guy’s cock. Benedict groans and slides two fingers inside my mouth. I suck hard, using my tongue as much as I can. I bet he wishes I was sucking his dick right now, but I can’t bend that far in this position.

Instead, I focus my energy on making him feel good with my hands as I soak up the sensory assault on my nipples and my pussy. I have a sudden and unexpected flashback to that time in Anton’s office, when he had me blindfolded while he watched the soon-to-be love of his life, Gen, get spit-roasted by his two mates.

Then, I was a bystander, a convenient prop on the outskirts, there to suck him off because he couldn’t have the woman he wanted. It was hot as fuck, don’t get me wrong, but now I’m the main attraction, the principal plaything, being worked andfucked and filled up and fondled, and it’s so perfect I might die. I’m not sure how much more stimulation my body can take, but mymindwill never, ever tire of this dynamic.

Impossibly, the heat begins to build again, and I moan around Benedict’s fingers, my tongue flexing against them.

‘Fuck,’ he groans.‘Fuck.’He swells even further in my hand, and then he’s covering my hand with his free one, aiming his dick slightly lower before letting rip. His cum hits me right between my tits in hot ropes, and JesusChrist,the feeling of one guy shooting his load all over my skin as another guy ruts into me is everything. It’severything.

I move harder, ignoring the screams from my quads and hamstrings as I grind down on this faceless guy whose dick I’m using. I suck harder on Benedict’s fingers. The guy fucking me uses my pearl necklace, smearing it across my tits, making my nipples slippery under his touch. Then he’s abandoning them altogether so he can grip my waist hard and work me up and down, just the way he needs it.

‘Don’t come, Athena,’ Benedict warns, pulling his fingers out of my mouth as the guy beneath me moves faster and faster, thrusting as though he’ll die if he doesn’t come right this second. ‘If you start to come, I’ll pull you off him. Understand?’

I nod, half hearing him, the friction in my core growing fiercer. I barely know which way is up or where I am. As soon as the man has finished shuddering into his condom and biting down on my shoulder so hard I almost come there and then, Benedict is barking at him to hold onto the condom and hauling me off. He takes something—the linen napkin from the wine bucket, maybe—and wipes my chest and stomach down as best he can. His movements feel pragmatic, but they’re gentle, too.

‘Right, gorgeous,’ he says, holding me by the shoulders and turning me around. ‘Last one. You’re doing great—you’re a fucking rockstar.’

It’s Gabe. It has to be.

I feel for the last man of the evening, one hand going to his shoulder and the other to his jaw, and as soon as I feel his beard, I know.It’s him.I straddle him, and he pulls me down with his hands on my hips so I’m balancing on his firm thighs, his sheathed dick trapped between us.

‘It’s you.’ I whisper the words as I stroke his beard.

I can hear his smile. ‘It’s me, sweetheart.’

Then he’s wrapping his arms around me, his fingers finding the rosary beads of my spine like they always do, and the only way I can describe it is as a revelation, a homecoming, the like of which I’ve never felt. There is nothing else for it but to kiss him, and I’m suddenly glad that none of the other guys have kissed me since he did on that table.

I may be half comatose from orgasms, but the feel of his beard under my fingers and of his lips against mine and of his captive dick twitching angrily against my lower stomach is so perfectly, utterly right, in a way that none of the other men were.

Fucking strangers may be hot, but coming home to a person whose entire body feels as though it was made for yours is prophetic. As our tongues dance, I raise myself up, reaching between us and fondling his sac before positioning him at my entrance so I can slide down. I can tell by the taut pressure of his balls and his insane hardness that he’s close to blowing.

Of course he is.

My poor Gabe engineered this whole scene forme, the assistant he pays through the nose for the privilege of having my body on retainer forhispleasure, and he’s had to sit here and watch as man after man gets all the fun.

This is the part where I make it up to him. This is when I show him how grateful and blown away I am.

We rock together, our lips fused. I like to think I have decent stamina, but my legs are tiring after their workout and myorgasms, and I think he can tell. Holding me around the waist, he shunts forward on his chair so he has more leverage. He slides both hands under my bottom to help me move on top of him, and I do.

I’m in a semi-dreamlike state as he fucks me, a little like how I was after our Prima Nocta role play, but I’m conscious that he’s growing more agitated, more desperate for release. He thrusts up, and I employ every ounce of strength left to fire my leg muscles. It’s not just an altruistic move on my part: that need is still there, deep inside me, and every time he bottoms out in me he hits my cervix and it rejoices in turn.

He releases my mouth. ‘She’s tired. Help me out, mate.’

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