Holding The Cards
Chapter 20

 Joey W. Hill

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She came forward, his tormentor, his temptress, the center of his universe. The whole world narrowed to her face, her body, her scent.
He let his apprehension go with both hands, all his fears of doing something wrong. Winona had given him those fears, because he had disappointed her so often. Lauren's touch, her voice, her eyes, they all said that he could do nothing wrong with her except turn away or hold back his desires. He was under her control, directed by her commands, but more than that, he saw in her aroused eyes her immersion in him as he was immersed in her. There was no detachment, no sense of distance.
She had taken an enormous risk when she hadn't untied him when he demanded it. He remembered the way her hand had trembled, not out of fear of his rage, but out of fear of taking the step that would lose his trust, and destroy the bond they had sensed between them from the beginning. That was what this was about. Something far deeper than two people who had known each other for such a short time should be experiencing, but deeper nonetheless. He could hope desperately that she would stay when this was over, let him learn more about her, cherish her. But, even if she didn't, he could give her his absolute devotion now.
They were all adults. They all knew sex, really good sex, could make the mind manufacture bonds and emotional involvement where there was nothing but lust. But sometimes sex was more than that, a transcendent experience where everything was stripped away except the bare soul, and a person found a permanent resting place for his heart. He saw it in her. He didn't have to know anything more about her than he did at this moment to know it, to be sure of it. If he lived through the unbearable pleasure of the next few moments, he was never letting her go.
With Marcus still hard and warm inside him, she slowly inched the dress up her hips, bringing the hem sliding up her thighs, a millimeter at a time, and then past the crotch. He saw the closely cropped area around her pussy, the short hairs curled around the opening moist with her arousal, and then she came to him.
Marcus was moving again, slowly, keeping ripples of sensation going and attempting to defy the laws of nature and keep himself in an erect state, even after emptying his own seed. Apparently, he'd had some experience at it, for as he made some sinuous, circular movement of his hips, Josh could still feel him, feel his cock getting a bit stiffer, taking up more room, teasing him again.
Lauren slid the chair she had used closer and stepped up on it, bringing her breasts to Josh's eye level for a moment. She leaned forward, pressed the nipples pushing up the stretched cloth against his forehead, squashing the soft full part of the curves beneath it against his eyes, his nose, let him inhale her, strive to taste her. She was lifting the cross piece behind his shoulders, lifting it over his head and then re-anchoring it there.
She used the bar to lift her legs off the chair, hook her knees up onto his shoulders and slide in, spreading her thighs before his face, bringing her wet center an inch before his mouth and resting her ankles on Marcus's shoulders.
"Eat, Josh," she commanded.
His mouth took possession at once, tongue plunging into the wet musk of her, a sound of pure animal pleasure rumbling like a growl in his throat. Lauren cried out and her skin rippled around his tongue, gripping it, in a small, squeezing pre-orgasm. She was close, and the only thing he wanted more than to fuck her was to hear her scream with release. His lips worked double time, sucking, kneading, tongue flicking, thrusting, until she was writhing on his shoulders, gasping, and he groaned in reaction to it, and to Marcus's thrusts.
He gave a frustrated oath as she pulled back, her body quivering and glistening with sweat under the glitter. Her expression was one of total hunger now, though, and he knew she was not going to leave him denied. She brought her legs down, slid her grip to his shoulders, and clasped her thighs around his waist, so her ass was brushing his cock. He saw her gaze flick to Marcus and then made a noise of pure joy as he felt Marcus loose the waist strap and pull the harness off his cock, without breaking his own rhythm.
She braced the sides of her spike heels along Marcus's hips.
"Yes," Josh murmured, every cell of his body roaring for her. "Please."
Her nostrils flared, taking in the smell of herself on his lips, glistening with her fluids. She lowered herself onto his erect cock which, despite the slightly off angle, easily routed itself into her slick wetness as if it knew it was coming home.
Down, down, she went down on him inch by wonderful inch, and it almost overwhelmed him. God, she felt good. She was everything. So, perfect, so right. It sounded inane, but it was true. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, lifting her body so she was pressed against him from neck to joining, coupling her hips even closer. Marcus kissed her cheek, and then Josh's temple.
"Now, Josh," she murmured. "Fuck me, now."
He wanted to hold out, wanted to build her as high as he could before they both leapt, but it felt too good.
She rocked her hips, forward and down once, and the animal swept over them all.
* * * * *
She had never had the actual flood of a man's climax stroke her over. Fire seared through her, burning everything else away and leaving only him. His scent became her air, his body the solidity of the earth beneath her feet, his orgasm a flood of fire jetting into her womb, and the slick sweat and oill making it possible for their coupled limbs to move in a tidal rhythm, higher, higher.
Tantric sex focused on delaying physical release as long as possible, to build its pressure to heights overwhelming in their power. All she had done to keep him waiting, herself waiting, now exploded through the dam of restraint. His bindings became the anchor onto which they held to keep from being swept away.
She swallowed his fierce cry of release into her own mouth and gave it back as his cock slid rapidly back and forth across the taut strings of her nerve endings and ignited a symphony of response.
Emotion became pure physical, and her body bowed back, a raw scream tearing from her throat as the climax took her, too much to take. She was as helpless as he was to the overwhelming force of it, her juices flowing over him, her muscles gripping him, milking him inside her, squeezing every drop of his release into her body. He said her name, over and over, and his mouth was wet and open on her sternum as he sucked on her, muttered against her, touched her in the only way his bindings allowed.
They both cried out as Marcus came again, and they were all carried forward on the wave of this additional climax, thrust into sensation so strong it was almost pain. She could not hear what she was crying out, but it was blending with their own words, a simple primal chant as old as the stone beneath their feet. She inhaled the smell of sex, of men's bodies, her own musk, and thought she was going to lose consciousness.
She might have done so, for it seemed a long, long while before the pounding surf eased and gave way to a smooth, rhythmic movement of smaller waves. The soft ripples deposited her back into the sands of reality, the warm, wonderful reality of Josh's body, his closed eyes, hair damp at the temples. She was collapsed upon him, clinging to his neck, her trembling legs still somehow holding onto him, perhaps because Marcus was holding onto her calves.
She opened her eyes to a burning sensation and saw the reddened tips of her fingers, where they had dug savagely into the wood of the cross.
Marcus looked somewhat like an angel that had wrestled with a demon. However, he was the first to become a bit more in tune with the world around them. He slid gently from Josh, easing her legs down.
He took care of his aftermath with one of the moist towelettes available on a built-in shelf next to each of the room's devices. Lauren tried to keep the tile floor from sliding out from under her wobbly spike heels by gripping Josh's shoulders for balance. He cracked open an eye to look at her.
"If you've a mind to remove these...Mistress," he made it a husky caress that trailed up her spine like fingertips, "I can help hold you up."
"Or collapse to the floor with me."
He chuckled, acknowledging the truth of her words, and planted a lingering, fierce kiss on her temple.
She cupped his head, holding him there, her eyes as tightly shut as his for a moment.
"God, that felt good," she murmured, surprised when tears choked her voice. "Thank you."
"Likewise." He lifted his head, a tender stroke of his nose against hers. "I'd really like to hold you."
"Oh! Sorry," she smiled, somewhat unrepentant, and tugged off the leg straps, amazed at the ease with which the buckles unsnapped, when they were so resilient when locked. She smoothed her fingers over the deep red welts on his arms, leaned forward and placed her lips there. His other arm curled around her back, folded her to him as he moved off the cross and sank down to sit on the dais. She went down with him, sitting on the step below, her body folded between his bare thighs. The wetness of his cock pressed against her side. He laid his head over hers.
"I really like you, Josh."
He chuckled against her hair, and she lifted her head to look up into his eyes. Both of them were grinning foolishly. "That's not what I meant. I mean... aside from all this, I really like you. You're someone I'd like to get to know better."
"I think you probably know me better than most people ever have," he tucked a curl behind her ear,
"and," he lifted a shoulder, "I don't know why it is, but two people can be together five years and not know how to love each other, cherish each other, and others can do it," he glanced at his wrist as if a watch was there and slanted a glance at her, leaving the thought unfinished.
She swallowed, uncertain what to say, not sure if she needed to say anything, because the idea was at best a fragile miracle that words might destroy.
"I know," he nodded, as if reading her thoughts. "I'm not talking about the kind of love people have after twenty years, where they can finish each other's sentences. That takes work, and time. But I think all those relationships start with something more than just a flash of lust. You feel like you could just sit and look at that person forever. You just want to be near them. I felt that...feel that, with you.
"But you don't need to do anything about it," he added quickly. "I mean, it doesn't obligate you to me.
You have a life, and this is just  - "
She placed a finger on his lips. "Don't," she said quietly. "Don't start playing those games. You trusted me with those straps on, trust me with them off. We'll figure it out. I want to be with you, too. Just," she traced the firm lips with a finger. "Just shut up."
He cocked a brow, and then gave her a slow, sensual smile that reminded her that expression was all he was presently wearing.
"Yes, Mistress," he replied.
She heard Marcus give a weak chuckle as Josh's lips took hold of her mouth, and all her senses, once again.