“The first-timers are delectable. Their sweet tears, even as they get hotter and hotter. It’s a delicious struggle for them. The way they experience pleasure and emotion together as they learn what surrender to their Master truly means.”

She let out a groan as Christophe worked his hips and made his way in until she was seated to the hilt. He took over for Gustav, curving an arm around her back, bringing her down so he could suckle a nipple anew. She started at the unusual sensation of oil drizzling across her buttocks, and then Gustav’s fingers were massaging that tight opening between her cheeks. There was no way she could have anything else inside of her. With Christophe, she was full to bursting already.

When Mal rose and approached the table, her eyes opened, heart pounding, a plea there. Gustav curled one oiled hand in her hair, arching her throat to draw her face upward. As Mal opened his slacks, she fastened her gaze on his cock. He was astonishingly hard, demonstrating that some part of him was aroused by this, as she’d anticipated. She couldn’t cast any stones, could she, given that she was fast becoming a warm, gushing fountain again?

“Take me deep, Elisa,” he ordered with quiet firmness.

That made it click for her again. She was his servant, serving his pleasure and will. What they did to her served that, and so her pleasure would be his pleasure. Damn it all to hell.

She opened her mouth. At the first press of the broad head, the way he stretched her mouth to take him all the way in, her mind started to settle; something soothed in her belly, even as the rest of her body stayed agitated, restless. He pushed in deep, then pulled out slow, his intent focus on every change in her face, the way her lips slid over his length, moistening him with her mouth. Christophe remained still inside her for now, his mouth a slow, provocative pull on her nipple. As Mal’s fingers dug deep into her scalp, his other hand caressing her throat, that agitation became a spiral of reaction. Almost before she realized it, she was being pulled from trepidation down into a more mindless state—a state of mindless eagerness. She suckled Mal hard, drawing in her cheeks. As she did, she lifted her arse, instinctively offering to Gustav.

“There it is. They lose themselves after a while and then they become proper little sluts, willing to do anything for you.” That came from Jonathan. But his tone was amused, almost affectionate, the slur oddly not derogatory.

Either way, she’d found her center again. Having Mal in her mouth, him taking control, that was what had made her settle. This was now being commanded and arbitrated by him. She was the servant, created to serve a Master. This Master.

She let out a cry as Gustav started easing his cock into her arse. It burned, holy Mary, it burned. She shuddered, sucking Mal harder. She was going to split in two.

“She’s tightening up,” Gustav murmured. “I don’t want to push. She’s a virgin here.”

Mal’s fingers stroked her hair. “Christophe, suckle her nipples harder. Knead her breasts as you do it, almost bruising her. It makes her hotter and wetter. Her nipples are very sensitive.”

She cried out again as Christophe responded enthusiastically. While sensation spiraled faster through her, Gustav replaced the head of his cock with his fingers, one, then two, stretching her, his thumb teasing her rim, creating a rocket of sensations that had her surging forward on Mal, pushing her breasts deep in Christophe’s mouth, and relying entirely on Gustav’s hold on her waist to keep her upright.

Then Gustav’s cock was back. As her hips lifted and fell, and Christophe surged in deeper, Mal pumped into her throat harder. Take more of me, Irish flower. Make me come with that clever mouth of yours. Somewhere during that thought, Gustav pushed through the tight rings of muscle and drove deep. Christophe, in perfect sync, did the same.

She screamed against Mal’s cock, the burning pain and sense of fullness overwhelming, but Christophe was still teasing her breasts with his lashing tongue. He alternately kneaded them with his hands and then let their weight fall, creating an excruciating tingle in her nipples.

Keep working me, Elisa. Don’t forget your first duty is to your Master.

She was sobbing between pain and pleasure as she attacked him anew, sucking, licking frantically, accepting his punishing thrusts into her mouth, making those harsh moans at the back of her throat. She was losing control over her body in truth, just as Jonathan had said. She was a mindless, sexual creature, meant for fucking, buggering, every part of her given to their mouths, cocks, hands in a way she’d never experienced before. It was heinous, carnal, euphoric and utterly mindshattering. Having her hands tied behind her back where she couldn’t cup Mal’s testicle sac, or dig her fingers into his thighs, was an intimacy she longed to earn. Maybe he’d give her that after she served him properly. Maybe he’d let her clean him with her tongue after she brought him gushing forth.

Her body was rushing toward a hard, shattering orgasm the likes of which she knew she’d never experienced as well. It was a rough-andtumble fall down a steep hill, headed straight for a cliff, and no clawing or struggles were going to stop it. Christophe and Gustav were going at it now, smacking into her and grunting like the intent male animals they were. But she felt Mal’s eyes on her, and knew where her responsibility lay.

I’m going to come, Master.

Not yet. Not until I’ve come.

She was afraid he’d say that, but she renewed her effort, in a race with her own body as Christophe and Gustav inexorably dragged her that way. Mal’s hands were tightening in her hair, ruthlessly pulling at her scalp in a way that added to the sensation. She added her own plea to the demands he was sending her.

Please come for me, Master. I want to swallow you, feel you flood my mouth.

He let out a quiet snarl, and then he was coming, pushing into her throat so she had to work hard not to gag, her eyes tearing as the first stream shot down it, so profuse it hit the back of her throat and bathed his cockhead, filling her mouth. She had to close her lips tight on him, spreading the hot semen over him even as she frantically swallowed, wanting every drop. Apparently Gustav was given permission to loosen the collar on his cock, for he released then, right behind Mal. Christophe joined him a mere moment later. Three men filling her with their seed and heat, their passion and strength. She couldn’t hold off another second, her body spasming.

Come for your Master, Elisa.

She let out that raw, guttural cry, the one that said she was beyond feminine screams or shrieks. This was pure animal, the orgasm rocketing through her arse and cunt, the sensitive tips of her breasts, one still being teased and nipped by Christophe’s clever tongue. Mal’s hands had taken over for Gustav’s, holding her head up, hand fisted in her hair, working her on his length so that she had to milk the very last drop of sensation from him.

She didn’t close her eyes, she was sure of it, but it was clear she blacked out, because for a while, everything was gray and hazy. She vaguely stirred when Gustav eased from her. Christophe did as well, leaving behind very sore, well-used tissues. Mal’s handkerchief was on her face, at her eyes, wiping the tears, and then his mouth was there, kissing them away. When he straightened, she tried to find his cock again, wanting to clean him with her mouth. He let her do that, let her suck and lick the stickiness away from his semierect shaft, teasing the ridged head with the tip of her tongue. As she did, she was aware of Gustav and Christophe cleaning her at his direction. She was also cognizant of a quiet sense of approval from their waiting audience. She’d done well. She hadn’t let her Master down.

At length, she was helped to a sitting position. A cup of wine was placed at her lips. Mal was holding it, his other hand stroking her face. He wouldn’t let them care further for her, and as her world oriented, she was aware the other vampires were talking among themselves, the floor show over and therefore no longer the center of their attention. They’d moved on to an animated discussion of politics. Gustav and Christophe were already cleaned up and taking their places behind their respective Master and Mistress. She knew Mal should be joining the other vampires, not tending to her like this.

“Hush,” he murmured. “I’ll do as I please, and my servant won’t be giving me orders. You did well, atsilusgi. So very well.”

She nodded, but at length she closed her hand over his wrist, lifted her lashes up to him. “I’m fine, sir. Truly. Please go back to the others. I’m just going to go to the bathroom and clean up.”

He gave her a steady look, then nodded, helping her down off the table. But he gestured to Gustav. “Please see she gets to the bathroom.”

She thought it was interesting he’d bypassed Christophe, but then, Christophe had been more flirtatious with her, hadn’t he? Whatever that said about her Master, she didn’t know, but she knew it somehow warmed her. And she needed that warmth, because as the reality of what she’d just done started to hit her, wine or whiskey couldn’t seem to dispel the cold that was spreading through her lower abdomen.

Gustav was a quiet presence at her shoulder. She made it out of the room, halfway down the hall, before the shaking started in earnest and she had to stop, lean against the wall, her arms closing around herself. She fiercely willed her mind to be blank, to be as nothing but the air or the potted plants or the very clean floor runner with vibrant jewel tones.

Gustav waited on her, saying nothing, and she was more grateful for that than she knew how to say. When she continued on, he was just a step behind. He didn’t touch her, apparently realizing it would make her more aware she was hobbling down a hallway completely naked, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. But she sensed he was ready if she stumbled.

When she reached the bathroom door, she put her hand on the knob, eyes brushing his before darting away. “Thank you, Gustav. I’ll take a few minutes to clean up, get dressed, then be back.”

He cleared his throat. “They prefer you didn’t. Get dressed, that is. We attend them for the rest of the evening in the altogether. It lets them play with us as they like, when they like, with no impediments. There won’t likely be anything that intense the rest of the night, though. Just more petting and such.”