Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(84)
She kissed Dana and kept kissing her, swimming in the endless pleasure of it. Women liked to kiss, and often men didn’t indulge it long enough. Not these men, praise Goddess, but the chance to simply kiss a pair of full, moist lips as long and in as many ways as she desired was a rare treat.
Dana pressed her body against her, the restraints notwithstanding, and Rachel pressed back, assuming the no touch below the neck rule meant with her hands. She caressed Dana’s face, her throat, holding her still, stroking her as she kissed her. As their tongues tangled together, stroked, sounds of hot need were coming from them both. The pressure of desire built between her thighs from nothing more than a kiss.
Jon had done that to her more than once, kissed her until she reached an open-air climax, her body jerking on the bed as he teased her mouth with his, commanded her to come in a murmur.
But this time, the pressure of their knees, shifting slightly from their unavoidable movements, was becoming a dangerous friction, especially with the additional stimulation of the clit piece. The plug also contributed, responding to the pressure of her heels against her backside. Her nipples in the grip of the clamps were hard as they’d ever been, aching, a feeling compounded as she recalled Dana’s mouth there.
Rachel made another noise against Dana’s lips, answered by a similar needy cry. Her fingers dug into the side of Dana’s throat, hooking in her collar. Their nipples brushed, the chains between the clamps making a little metallic clicking noise.
“Stop,” Jon spoke, his voice satisfyingly throaty, nearly a growl.
Rachel pulled back reluctantly, Dana following as far as she could before the kiss broke and the woman had to catch herself so she didn’t topple forward. Rachel was ready to steady her if needed. Rules were rules, but she knew protecting one another was always top priority. But Dana’s stomach muscles contracted and she avoided the mishap, sinking back to her heels again.
“Come to me, Rachel.” Jon again.
She moved across the table on hands and knees, body swaying with lust-fueled movements. When she reached the edge of the table closest to him, she sat back on her heels, her eyes lowered, back straight, hands clasped at the small of her back, her resting pose when he didn’t specify otherwise. The plug in her ass did that adjustment thing that made her very aware of it, and her bound clit. She could see the blue shirt tucked into his belted jeans, and the mouthwatering erection pressing against the denim.
Jon clasped her waist and slid her forward, guiding her to a seated position on the cool glass, the edge of the mat against the curve of her buttocks as her legs dangled off the edge. As he held her there, a firm hand at her waist, he reached between her legs. When his thumb pressed against the metal piece, she shuddered.
“Look at me.”
When she did, the blaze of heat in his intense blue eyes, the set of his mouth, almost wrested another moan from her. As he held her gaze, that moan did escape, because he slid two fingers inside her cunt, and his thumb rubbed against the metal, warming and manipulating it.
“Come,” he said. “And be loud about it.”
Two things she couldn’t have controlled, even if she’d wanted to do so. Her hips lifted to his touch, pulling him in deeper, and a scream tore from her throat as the climax hit her like a hard wave. It shoved her against a solid wall and held her as it pummeled her with relentless contractions against his fingers. Her clit throbbed inside the torturous hold of Lucas’s gift, intensifying the situation, so it wasn’t one scream but a whole symphony of them that echoed through the room.
As the wave crested, she bowed back, arching over Jon’s arm. Even as the climax passed, fast, impossibly intense, the aftershocks remained, making her jerk and quiver, little whimpers coming from her. It was on that slow, sweet downward spiral that her glazed eyes focused on Dana.
Peter had brought her to his side of the table, though she was on all fours again, head up once more. He’d also ensured the padded stool had moved with her, for it was positioned under her for support. Her ribs were lifting and falling, her hips making little jerks as if she couldn’t stop herself from emulating the coital rhythm.
“I told you to stay still.” Peter rose from his seat. He spun a paddle in his hand and, as Rachel watched, he brought it up in a sweep to hit Dana at the fullest part of her buttocks. Another moan escaped Rachel in response.
“Lift that disobedient ass, Sergeant,” Peter barked.
Dana complied with a whimper as Peter landed the next blow, hard enough to rock her forward on her hands. It sent another intense aftershock through Rachel, almost like a second climax. It took a few more seconds to level out, especially as Peter continued to paddle Dana’s backside, her buttocks wobbling in reaction, thighs flexing, hands curling into the mat, more cries wrenching from her.
Rachel’s pussy continued to pulse like her rapid heart. Jon scooped her up and put her on her feet. He turned her to face the table, pushing her down with a hand to the back of her neck. He was…oh Goddess, he was…
It took less than a second for Jon to open his jeans. He thrust into her with just the right amount of force, her still slippery and contracting tissues pulling him in eagerly. The force of his thrust home pushed her forward almost as aggressively as Peter’s paddle had Dana. As her nipples rubbed against the mat, her upper body pressed down on the chain so her forward movement created a sharp tug on the constricted points. A cry tore from her own throat.