Page 203 of Entangled

“Oh, fuck,” he swears under his breath, and he sounds as though he’s already being tortured. “She’s so fucking pretty. Look at her take him.”

He’s right.

Eden is gorgeous on her knees, and I’m stunned by her sheer determination. Beaumont isn’t small, and her cheeks are red from the effort already, yet she’s taking him incredibly deep, sucking on him like she prefers him to air. Her loving enthusiasm is enthralling.

My cock presses against my slacks, desperate for the same devoted attention.

“She does swallow his dick so well, doesn’t she?” I croon in Lucien’s ear, and Eden’s gaze soars back to mine at the compliment.

She pierces me through with those eyes of hers.

I lower my hand to cup Lucien’s balls, then squeeze brutally. “Polite, respectful submissives get all the cock.”

With my other hand, I pull his hair tie from around my wrist, and twist it heartlessly tight around his sac.

“Oh,fuck,” Lucien swears again, and a hypnotic shudder wracks him head to toe.

Eden makes a quick squeak of shock in the back of her throat. A tiny one.Adorable.

I fight the uncivilized urge to rub my cock through my clothes. There are many things I enjoy about my work, but the evolution of sounds—the sordid symphony of it—is one of the best. Turning those sweet squeaks into raw screams is a delight. Breaking a submissive until tears flow and I can taste that unfiltered, fractured need?Thatis a calling.

I run a finger under the bind to ensure it’s painful but not cutting off blood flow, then tug his florid cock teasingly. Pulling it harder, I press his length tight against his abdomen. It smears the slick head of him over his skin in a beautiful mess.

My heart pumps wicked lust through my veins. “How does that feel, hm?”

Lucien shifts, gasping. “Hurts. Fuck. It hurts.”

That shaky, husky tone sends savage satisfaction singing through me. “Everything can be a tool when used creatively, dear boy. I don’t need my room to make you beg for me.” I twist his tender, tied sac and kiss his cheek as he cries out. “Tell me if you experience any tingling or numbness.”

There’s a breathy moan, and I look up from my handiwork to see Beaumont pulling Eden off him and kneeling behind her, hitching her skirts high enough for us to see that perfect pussy. He spreads her knees wide, and the view is debauched. She’s puffy and flushed a dark pink, already used and sopping wet from Lucien, despite his attempted cleaning.

Beaumont runs his hands over the gleaming wetness along her thighs, then dips his fingers through her pussy, spreading her and coating himself in the moisture. He avoids her clit, languorously touching her everywhere else.

“God damn, pet, you really love having my cock in your mouth, don’t you?” His voice is rough with lust.

My own cock strains for freedom. To sink into that plush, used hole and claim it for myself. Lucien already left her soaking. Fucking her would mean sheathing myself in both of them.

Lucien groans beside me, his eyes stuck on Beaumont’s hand, and I’m distracted by the tiny shifts of his hips as he tries to ease the pressure on his balls. Standing as he is, I can’t enjoy the full sight of my efforts.

“Dancer pose, Lucien, and clasp your ankles. Legs apart. Let’s see how long you can last.”

I haven’t done this with him before, but I have seen him move through yoga poses before. Watched obsessively as each position showcased his body in a new, intricately beautiful way. Held long enough, it will become a stress position, and another subtle, delightful layer of discomfort for my masochist.

Lucien blinks, then lets out a shaky laugh. I smile. I suspected he might enjoy this.

Heisa show off, after all.

He bends, hinging from the hips and leaning forward. He gracefully kicks one leg up and angles his toes toward his head, then reaches back with both hands to grasp his ankle. He’s balanced on one leg, his back in a deep, perfect arch, and I let out an appreciative sigh.

I run my nails up his inner thigh until he shivers. “Gorgeous.”

The position engages his chest, abdominals, hips, thighs, hamstrings, and calves, and they’re all locked tight to keep his balance. Still oiled and glistening, he looks like an obscene sculpture.

He’s on perfect display.

I hear the slick slide of Beaumont teasing Eden, and her breaths start coming in high, desperate pants.

“Don’t you dare come, darlin’. I can feel you wriggling. Don’t you make a liar out of me in front of the mean sadist, now.”

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