Amorous Overnight (43 page)

Finally he broke, tossing his head and arching his back as he shouted, “Please, sir! Please, please!”

Breathless with triumph, Cecine relented. He raised his head enough to pick a loose hair off his tongue and then nipped his way up the center of that sac. Once he reached the base of Hastion’s staff, he wasted no time in seizing it and sucking it deep into his mouth. His own cock was exquisitely, painfully hard, and he’d never enjoyed the sensation more.

Hastion’s legs began to shake, and seconds later, he roared as he gave up his seed in thick, musky spurts that Cecine swallowed without hesitation.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hastion’s world was a kaleidoscopic vortex of sensations that began and ended with Minister Cecine’s relentless mouth. The vortex buffeted him higher and higher, and when it finally peaked and dropped away beneath him, he soared on, no longer bound by the weight of everyday roles and expectations and disappointments. He was a creature of pleasure—vibrant, responsive and content, with no awareness beyond the strong, hot hands that continued to slide over his body as if they owned it.

Which they did at that moment, and he’d never felt more free.

He drifted on, basking in the wide-open space inside him. Only vaguely did he feel the tugging at his wrists and ankles, and then those hands were drawing his arms down, massaging them one at a time from his shoulders to his fingers, easing any discomfort caused by his restraints. Although he wasn’t physically in need of the care, he hummed his appreciation. This sort of attention he could easily become accustomed to…

If this weren’t their last sexual encounter.

He tensed, tempted for an instant to blurt out a retraction, to claim he hadn’t really meant it. But even adrift in a sea of contentment, he knew he had. He couldn’t go back to their original agreement, even having experienced this. Especially having experienced this. He realized that he needed more—more than physical satisfaction, more than calculated domination and passionately inflicted pain, delicious as it was. More than simple acceptance.

Love was what he needed, what he craved above all else. It would be too easy to let himself love the minister…and then hate him for not returning the sentiment.

And if the minister grew to love Shelley, jealousy might poison his relationship with her. That would be disastrous for all of them, and the twins too.

No, better to let Milnon see to the minister’s needs. With his selfless nature and unconditional submission, he was much less likely to grow dissatisfied and demand more.

Hastion sighed with regret. This encounter was an aberration, a moment out of time during which each of them could get what he wanted without obligation or fear of the consequences. Once it was finished, the only things connecting them would be Shelley and the twins.

The minister’s smoothing hands finally released his fingers, only to move to the backs of his thighs. Hastion’s heartbeat grew heavier as they skidded down his legs and pulled them up onto the bunk, leaving the outsides of his feet and cuffed ankles resting on the mattress and his knees splayed. The stretching of his inner-thigh muscles was delicious, and he let his knees hang as though weighted, stretching them further as he wantonly displayed the flesh stirring between his legs. If this was his last opportunity to submit to the minister, he would enjoy it to the fullest.

At the slick sound of flesh being lavishly lubricated, he opened his eyes to slits and watched through his lashes. Cecine knelt naked between his thighs, sitting back on his heels, lubricant dripping from his hand and his testicles while he stroked his erection. His mouth hung open as he breathed deeply, ruddy patches staining his cheeks. When he glanced up and saw Hastion watching him, he straightened and his uncompromising expression returned. He slid his free hand under Hastion’s right thigh, just above his knee, and folded it back against his chest.

Hastion inched his left thigh farther out, deliberately leaving himself wide open, and Cecine closed his eyes with a visible shudder. Then he knelt up and leaned forward, using the hand on Hastion’s thigh to support himself. With his free hand, he guided his slick cock between Hastion’s buttocks and pushed deep.

“Oh Peserin,” Hastion groaned, clutching at the mattress, no longer even trying to stifle his cries as the minister planted his right hand on the bunk’s edge and hammered into him ruthlessly. It fucking hurt with no preparation, but he was so aroused already, he didn’t care.

Judging by the avid look on Cecine’s face, he didn’t care either, and the knowledge only fed Hastion’s arousal. Would Milnon derive as much pleasure as he did from being deliberately hurt? Or would he merely tolerate it, suffer through it for the minister’s pleasure?

Would the minister derive as much joy from hurting
him
?

Perversely determined to see that he didn’t, Hastion hooked his free leg behind Cecine’s and reached up through his silky hair with both hands to grasp his head. The great male might as well know exactly what he was trading away.

The minister’s rhythm faltered as Hastion pulled him down into an openmouthed kiss. Then he let go of Hastion’s thigh and began his assault in earnest. He seized Hastion’s wrists and slammed them down on the bunk, fucking him fiercely with both his tongue and his cock.

Crying out in agony and ecstasy, Hastion fought the viselike hold on his wrists. At the same time, he wrapped both legs around the minister’s hips and threw his entire body into fucking him back. The searing pain in his ass didn’t ease, but the sheer pleasure of moving, of responding freely, sent shocks of effervescent sensation through his muscles and sinew, and over every inch of his skin.

In response, Cecine growled harshly and dropped to rest his forearms on Hastion’s, bruising them with his weight as his thrusts grew even more violent. The deeper angle of his penetration resulted in almost intolerable friction against Hastion’s prostate, and rather than tensing and resisting the pained panic signals that flared throughout his body, Hastion opened himself to them, his chest heaving as he inhaled the intoxicating fumes of unchecked arousal.

Orgasm gathered and struck with all the speed and devastation of a lightning bolt. Hastion’s back bowed, and he screamed as the force of it tore up from his balls into his belly and exploded out every nerve ending from his toes to his scalp.

The minister slammed into him with a bellow, and then reared back to do it once more, his head thrown back and his teeth bared as his seed flooded into Hastion. It was impossible to tell whose pulses of release were whose in that spine-searing moment, which seemed to stretch into eternity.

Gooseflesh rose on Hastion’s skin with every shuddering breath he sucked in, and it was only when the minister’s forearms shifted and his weight settled onto him that Hastion realized he’d lost feeling in his fingers.

Refusing to acknowledge the wet trails running into the hair at his temples, Hastion summoned every ounce of resolve to meet the minister’s hot, unfocused gaze with detachment.
“I believe that ends my service to you, sir.”

Cecine’s expression went blank.
“I believe you’re right, Ensign.”

Shelley was swimming in an ocean of arousal as her mates stared at each other. She’d done nothing but breathe deeply and watch while they exposed this unexpected and intensely arousing facet of their sexual relationship. Cecine had teased and tortured Hastion as though he’d been a sadist all his life, and Hastion… Well, she would have been worried if he weren’t obviously enjoying it. He’d come the first time without any prostate stimulation at all, which she hadn’t even thought was possible, and the second time…

Just…wow.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she breathed when Cecine reared back and climbed off the bed.

“He’s a beautiful creature, isn’t he?” he said, striding into the room’s small bathing area.

“Very beautiful,” she murmured, “and not just him.”

The shower went on as he called, “Thank you.”

Shelley smiled. She hadn’t realized he could hear her in there.

Her gaze drifted to Hastion, who still lay on the bed panting with his arms above his head, his knees up and his eyes closed. She frowned. Was that a tear running down his temple?

“Hastion, are you okay?” she asked.

He didn’t move. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you sure? Because you don’t look fine. Are you in pain? Why aren’t you moving?”

“I’m just…” his lips quirked, “…letting it all soak in.”

She blinked. “You mean, like figuratively, or…?”

His smile widened to a grin as he turned his head to look at her. “Literally,” he said, swiping his hand across his belly and then wiping it on the mattress beside his hip. “Infirmary bunks are infused with biologic material for sanitary purposes.”

Blushing, she laughed. “I already knew that, but thanks for the reminder.”

When the sound of splashing water stopped, Hastion turned his face toward the ceiling again and resumed his inspection of his eyelids. A second later, Cecine walked in, still naked and dotted with water from the chest down.

Walking straight to her bunk, he smiled. “How are you feeling now, szistaan?”

“A little drunk, I think. A lot horny,” she added with a heavy sigh.

His smile turned naughty. “Would you like me to do something about that?”

Startled but intrigued, she said, “Like what?”

“I’d like to taste you, my mate.”

After what he’d just done to Hastion, Shelley didn’t even hesitate. She rolled to her back and spread her thighs, kicking off the blanket as she pulled her gown up to her waist. “I’d like that too.”

Hastion gave a throaty chuckle and she glanced over to find him lying on his side, watching her. “She’s definitely drunk on pheromones again, sir.”

“Good. She might as well enjoy it while it lasts.”

Cecine braced his hands on either side of her hips and lowered his head at once. He took the time to inhale deeply, giving every indication of savoring her bouquet, and the brush of his hair over her thighs sent shivers of delight through her.

Raising his head just enough to gaze up at her, he grinned devilishly. “Are you ticklish, my Shelley?”

Her breathing deepened. A big, naked sadist was teasing her, and it was so fucking hot.

Untying the neck of her gown, she pulled it off and tossed it on the floor before resting her arms over her head. “Why don’t you find out?”

His gray eyes darkened. “I suppose I could, since biting
you
is out of the question for tonight.”

He began to move his head, trailing his hair oh-so lightly over her rounded abdomen, smiling when the feathery contact made her stomach muscles twitch. Her gasps when he tickled her ribs made him chuckle, and when she screeched and pulled her arms down to protect her underarms, he laughed out loud.

Then he gathered the ends of his hair like a paintbrush and teased her nipples until they bunched up into tight points. By that time, Shelley was panting and desperate for firmer contact. She pulled his head down in demand, and he obliged her by sliding his hands under her back and sucking her breast into his mouth.

The relief was so exquisite her eyes crossed. “Ohhhhh…”

Her breasts hadn’t felt this sensitive and achy since her milk first came in, but where breastfeeding had satisfied some primitive need in her, Cecine’s suckling perpetuated it, amplifying it into ravening hunger. It felt so good she didn’t want him to stop, but the hollowness it created in her core was making her crazy.

“God, please!” she cried, tossing her head on the pillow.

Cecine trailed his hot mouth to the other side, doubling her torturous pleasure. He squeezed both breasts as he flattened her nipple against his palate, and she squealed with delight and discomfort.

Then he went down without warning, attacking her pussy with his mouth, sucking at her tender flesh as though it would provide sustenance, while his hands continued to grip her breasts. He worked her damp nipples between his thumbs and the edges of his palms, pulling, drawing her out almost to the point of pain.

“Yessss,” she moaned.

He squeezed harder, and his tongue snaked inside her—unbelievably deep inside her—before making a long, firm glide back up over her clit. Shelley closed her eyes, grasping her pillow with both hands. “Oh my God, yes!”

She planted her feet and pushed her hips up, lost in sensation as that amazing tongue rubbed her inside and out, over and over, deeper and harder. Her breathing grew labored and her entire body began to tingle, from her scalp to her palms to the soles of her feet. In between, everything in her drew tight and hard and needy, desperate and reaching for release.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped.

His tongue tightened, its focus narrowed to her clit and inner lips, becoming a machine as it worked over her slick flesh. Then his handling of her nipples grew rougher, almost cruel, as he pulled on them, and the delicious pain sent her straight to the edge.

His teeth on her clit as he sucked hard sent her over.

Shelley howled, bucking uncontrollably, sobbing with relief at the sensations throbbing through her.

She drowsed for a long moment, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure and enjoying the feel of Cecine’s smooth, heavy chin resting on her mons as he continued to squeeze and tug at her nipples.