Page 26 of Room 13: Bred By the Bears

“How does this feel?” Obi reached underneath her dress, I assumed by Miele’s sweet sigh he twisted her breeding plug. “Would you like me to take it out?”

“No.” She held on to his wrist but her hips moved in seductive circles in counter to Obi’s hand thrusting back and forth from where it was hidden beneath the sea-foam hem of her dress. “You told me to keep it in until the next time we’re all together.”

“One phone call could resolve that.” He muttered against her mouth before collecting her lips into a heated kiss.

Obi pressed his forehead against Miele’s, engaging in an epic stare down. He thrust that plug in and out, over and again. I saw her eyes flutter closed, her teeth gathering the top of her lip, she leaned back, tits practically point toward the sky, mouth open as she prepared to moan out her release. We needed to pump the fucking brakes. Otherwise we’d spend all night pumping more cum into her, and that hadn’t been the intent when I told Obi I wanted to show her my studio.

“Time for a field trip!” I shouted, clapping my hands. “We only have a little bit of sunlight, so we best get a move on.”

sixteen

Nearly forty-five minuteshad passed and my body still vibrated with the loss of the orgasm Obi’s ministrations promised. Instead of getting taken over a bench, or straddled on a table, we instead sat in Ryker’s SUV driving off to destinations unknown. Ryker insisted I sit shotgun with him. So on top of a body that shook with need, Ryker’s presence batted at my psyche, playing with me as if I were the mouse and he the cat. If it wasn’t his distinctive scent; a heady combination of the smells of metalworking, the singed smell of metal, the tang of polish and tarnish, along with the scents of him: saltwater, and the eucalyptus oil he used on his hands. It was his grainy voice quietly humming along to an Avett Brothers song, or the feel of the air moving when he moved it from the steering wheel to the arm rest, or the air conditioning vent.

Every movement my body tracked and catalogued. I hoped that restless hand would settle on me. To make my skin sing. I wanted to bathe in that heady elixir of sensation that only he and his friends could concoct.

“We’re nearly there, Little Pet. You’ve been such a good and patient girl. It wasn’t fair that Ryker interrupted our play time, I know."

I felt Ryker’s disapproving frown before I even glanced his way to confirm its presence. He and Obi exchanged glances through the rearview mirror. And I certainly didn’t miss the annoyed huff from the backseat. If I turned to look at Obi, I knew he’d be rolling his eyes at his best friend and flicking him off.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going, yet?” I pressed again.

Not that I expected either of them to change their answer for the eleventh time I’d asked. Each answer had been an iteration of ‘no.’ From,somewhere important.Toa place only a few people have ever seen. It was a place of importance for the two of them, that much I sussed out, and they appeared to really enjoy this game of suspense.

“Sure am glad I didn’t have any other important meetings that I needed to hurry back for.” I flipped my visor down, glancing in the mirror, and smoothed my hair into a ponytail.

“We cleared your calendar, sweet thing. We told your assistant you’d be out for the rest of the day choosing pieces with the famous Ryker Trygg.”

Ryker fluffed his hair and wiggled his fingers in a moment of silliness I wouldn’t have thought him capable of.

“You’refamous?” I joked. “For what?”

“In your book? For giving you so many orgasms you’ve forgotten what pleasure was before me.”

His basil colored eyes shimmered with his know-it-all confidence. The devilish grin that accompanied the statement and heated stare had me drowning in the desire that moments ago simply hummed. The words he spoke were the absolute truth. I couldn’t even remember what a self-induced orgasm felt like and it had only been three weeks since I’d had one. No need for vibrators and dildos when I three cocks at my beck and call.

“We’re here.” Obsidian’s voice broke me from my haze.

Herewas a long, winding driveway, privacy fences on either side in worn redwood with lanterns suspended from the rails every few paces. With the sun just beginning to set, and the hazy in-between of light and dark, the area felt incredibly peaceful. Ryker pulled his SUV into a circular driveway leading to an oversized stone A-Frame home.

“Home.” He turned to me, a shy smile on his face.

An artist occupied the space. No doubt about that fact. The mixture of wood and stone, the reddish hue of the wood against the varied grays and browns of the river rock. If I lived there, I’d never leave. And certainly not to come down to New Orleans.

The inside would be a designer’s paradise. Gorgeous, hand laid, wide plank wood floors, high ceilings with exposed beams, and so many windows. Especially ones that overlooked the rolling hills and small lake out back.

“It’s a natural spring.” Obi came up beside me with a glass of wine. “No gators or leeches in there. And it’s ours alone. Nice and private, so no prying eyes, or risks of getting ambushed when you’re floating in there naked.”

Ryker had disappeared deeper into the house. Obsidian took over, giving me a tour of their oversized kitchen and family room. Both were distinctly masculine both in the rich leathers and dark woods, and also the movie theater sized television concealed behind a painting of scenic marshland.

“Armel is out back, finishing dinner.” Ryker returned, sporting a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt and bare feet, with clothing in his hand. “If you’re comfortable in your dress, I’m not complaining. But if you wanted to change, I have some leggings and a hoodie here that Armel bought for you.”

It wasn’t the cheapI want to chase you down and rip this off of youclothing he’d given to me last time. Instead, Armel had gone to Lululemon and purchased me butter soft leggings and a coordinating zip hoodie.They were just clothes,I tried to convince myself,there were no deeper sentiments attached to finding something for me to wear since they’d whisked me away after work.

“Would you like to change?” he asked, still holding on to the proffered clothing. “Your choice either way. But suits make me feel like I’m slowly having the life sucked out of me. So I chuck that shit faster than a snake molting its winter skin. Obi likes to preen about like a damn peacock. So he’ll probably follow your lead.”

Before I could tell him I didn’t know what to do about the plug he expressly told me not to remove, Armel came in. He smelled like a campfire and looked good enough to snack on. The cargo shorts he wore did little to hide the erection straining against his zipper. He smiled, set the dirty platters he had in the sink, and crossed the five steps to where we stood, as if his cock wasn’t showing up to the party as well.

“How did your field trip to Ryker’s warehouse go?” He pulled me in for a kiss before running his hand down my back.

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