Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(94)

It was impossible to experience this quietly, and she laid the blame for that entirely on him, and now on the rest of the K&A men. Her screams echoed through the board room, Dana making noises of passionate approval against her flesh. Her mouth was still busy, driving Rachel into wild, bucking motions. The men held onto her, held her open. Thinking of Matt sitting back in his chair, watching her pussy spurt with response, only had her groaning through more aftershocks.

It seemed like it was much, much later when she was limp under their hands, her body covered with a light perspiration. Her hair was tousled, several strands falling into her face.

“Well done,” Jon said quietly, squeezing her hand again. “That’s my sweet, beautiful sub. Come here.”

Dana helped her lift her upper body, though the woman’s hands were shaking. Rachel could tell she was powerfully aroused herself, but Dana was better equipped to deal with a combat situation

On that humorous thought, Rachel weakly managed to reach for Jon. He slid her off the table into his lap, where he’d taken a seat in one of the roomy chairs. He cradled her there, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. “Just take a moment,” he murmured.

“Time to come to me, too, Sergeant,” Peter said.

Dana moved on all fours in his direction, her movements erratic because of her worked-up state. She came close to making a straight line toward him, though. Peter only had to step a couple feet to his left to be in front of her when she reached the edge of the table. Dana was a confident woman, but Rachel knew her lack of hesitation in this situation had to do with her trust in her Master’s care. Since her own Master’s protectiveness and care never failed to stir her, seeing it demonstrated by another only enhanced the feeling for Rachel.

Dana put her arms around Peter’s neck and he lifted her off the table, swinging her effortlessly into a similar cradling hold as he sat back down in his chair. Dana curled up in his lap like a kitten. But Peter had more on his mind than nurturing. Putting his hand between her thighs, he stroked, causing her to grip his biceps and make a breathy little moan.

“That’s my hot slave,” he said in his husky voice. “You want to come too, but you’re going to have to wait until I say, aren’t you?”

She nodded, her face tightening with the effort. When he cupped her jaw, she turned her head and nipped his fingers, nuzzling and licking them, taking one finger in her mouth to suck and play as he watched, feral heat in his eyes.

Despite the mesmerizing power of that display, it only took one decisive movement from Jon to bring Rachel’s attention fully back to him. He settled his hand on her throat, fingers spreading out to collar her below the hold of the silver one. She stilled under that commanding touch, but it was his gaze that captured her.

Everything he’d shared with her tonight, especially that interlude with Matt, was there in his expression, and more. As she met his gaze, she saw an even more volatile power than she’d felt when he’d first taken her on the table, earlier in the night.

Everything about him, not just his hands, held her, as he mouthed the word Rachel knew well.

Mine.

There was a dangerous layer beneath the Zen crunchy granola stuff, as Ben put it. And while she loved his gentle side, this side did something to her she could never deny. Not on any level. She swallowed, because she saw in his gaze what he wanted, and not much was holding it in check. He wanted to take her on this table again, hard thrusts that would be about him asserting his dominance over her, and he wouldn’t stop after she climaxed. He’d continue until she was so weak, he would have to scoop her up and carry her home.

“Matt,” Jon said, not taking his gaze away, that look holding her in place. “You have the winning hand. What’s your pleasure?”

“I’m fond of frottage. When Rachel is recovered enough, I want to see some of that.”

“That’d be a nice way to see my girl come,” Peter mused. He stroked the back of Dana’s neck, his hand dwarfing the slender column. “Would you like that, baby?”

“Look at her,” Jon said quietly, a command. Rachel reluctantly pulled her gaze away. Dana was nodding against Peter’s chest. Her hand rested on it, nails biting into his shirt, revealing the struggle she was having, with his other hand continuing to play between her legs, squeezing and tapping the clit shield, and stroking her labia beneath it. Her lips were working, and occasionally Rachel could hear a little whimper escape her.

“Rachel is recovered enough,” Jon said. “Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

There was a rough rumble beneath his deep voice, and when she turned her attention back to him, she was ready to do as he wanted. But what he needed concerned her more.

“I’m yours, in whatever way you need me,” she said softly, for his hearing alone. “Even if it takes my last breath. Master.”

His gaze sparked, and his hands tightened on her. His mouth was on hers in the next breath, and she moaned at the strength of it, the way he invaded with tongue and lips and teeth, his hands sliding around so one was tight around her shoulders, the other gripping her ass, fingers almost bruising.

When he eased her back, he seemed a little more settled, though she expected that fire was merely banked. She wouldn’t mind letting the flames rise up and immolate her, sooner rather than later.

“Ready to take care of Dana?” he asked again, clearing his throat.