Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4)

Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4) Page 51

Sliding Savannah"s hair to the side, Matt bent to touch his mouth to the delicate flesh under her ear. Her long nails cut into his palm as he slipped one of the buttons of that silky blouse. As Rachel watched, panting, he reached in to cup her breast, lifted it free of a lacy bra and stroked a thumb over a prominent nipple, obvious through the sheer fabric. Savannah"s head dropped back against his broad shoulder, her face turning away to give him better access.

But even through that, the women"s attention came back to Rachel. Though Matt and Peter weren"t looking toward her at the moment, she felt a link to them as well. It was her and Jon and them. The mass of humanity drove her arousal even higher from their presence, but what gathered it all together was this intimate circle, the fact they"d pulled her into the center of it. And what would shatter her, take her completely over, was the man behind her now.

Jon put his hands on her hips again, and she cried out, sheer ecstasy, emotional and physical, as his heated, bare cock pushed into her. She wished she could see it, the graceful movement of his body as he opened his slacks and levered the thick organ to her opening. Stretched and abused, she nevertheless welcomed him with tight, slick muscles, holding him as he drove in deep, joining with her there in front of all those eyes.

She was so hot and overcome by all of it, the climax thundered toward her like an unexpected flash flood when he"d done three, blissfully slow strokes. “Master…” She gasped it out on instinct. They"d never talked about rules, she realized. They just knew, she just knew, what she needed…wanted.

“May I… Please let me come!”

He held his silence, pushing in, dragging out, thrusting, working her faster, then slow,

became

desperate,

crying

out

for

the

permission.

“Please…please…Master.” The heat was sweeping over her, pussy spasming, and in another second she"d be in breach of the obedience her Master should demand from her, never to release without his permission. “Help…can"t…”

“Now, Rachel. Come for your Master. For me alone.” That sense of disorientation, of being lost on a turbulent tide of sensation and the collective desires of those around her took over, swept her up and over, and she was at the hub of it, held by Jon"s sure, steady grip. As she was pulled away into sensation, her last coherent thought was that the pillory, the environment, the men, even the presence of the other K&A women, was an ultimate organic device engineered by him, a Master whose will she was helpless to resist. She was lost in a rushing river, dependent on him to guide that narrow boat through the roaring waters.

She was screaming again, this time shrieking like a banshee, lost to all of it, her ass squeezing down on the plug as she lifted to meet his every thrusting stroke, as he began to slam hard into her, mixing the pain that lingered with a pleasure that wouldn"t be denied. His hands captured her breasts and squeezed the nipples, and that additional sensation rocketed her higher. She was straining back and forth against her restraints, feeling everywhere his remarkably fully clothed body was touching her, wanting to serve him, devour him, hold him…

It was too much. Something broke inside of her, that concrete dam that had suppressed her emotions, pain and loss, disappointment…crushing loneliness. It rushed over her, driven over the wall by the unstoppable force of that climax and all that it meant, all that she could no longer deny. There would be no rebuilding that wall, no matter what happened. She was naked, shivering and vulnerable, protected from whatever came howling toward her by one man. One Master"s love.

That sense of timelessness again, such that on the downward slide, she found herself blinking hazily, as if she"d come out of a long journey into a fantastical place, and reality was hard to comprehend. But on the downward slide of that incredible climax, she met Savannah"s gaze. There she once again saw understanding.

Comprehension of the panic and ecstasy, all wound together, a restraint even more frightening than physical bonds. Rachel grayed out some then, because the rush of blood, the quivering of nerves and limbs, overcame her. But when she phased forward in that hazy dream state, those three beautiful women had risen from their places at the bar.

With Cass guiding Dana, they were winding their way around the edge of the crowd until they reached the platform. There, Lucas and Ben gave them a hand up, Peter and Matt bringing up the rear. As they did, Jon touched kisses all along the curve of her spine. Some of her hair had come down in the front during her thrashing like a feral creature. It wisped along her cheeks, over her eyes. He"d caressed it to the side when he kissed her neck. But now he was withdrawing, his hands lingering on her hips, giving her a squeeze before his touch disappeared. For a harrowing moment, she was alone with the crowd, no familiar faces before her or in her peripheral vision.

Then female hands stroked the hair, finger-combed it out of her face, helped to re-secure it with the pins and sticks she"d used. Rachel saw it was Cass, her generous bosom smelling like a jasmine fragrance as she leaned over Rachel. Dana had a soft cloth, and wiped her face, the tears and remaining saliva. Pressing her lips to Rachel"s temple, she moved behind her, following the line of her spine and hip with her slim fingers until she located the base of the anal plug and eased it out. A third hand, Savannah"s, Rachel assumed, pressed on her lower back, a reassurance as it was removed.

She didn"t see Jon, but she could feel him. He"d stepped back, letting them cosset her, and with all her senses so open and vulnerable, she thought she understood why.

This had been a punishment, and he was letting the lesson sink in by giving other submissives the role of her aftercare. They would comfort and soothe, but he would wait to do so until she did what every instinct told her she was supposed to do.

It was hard, so hard, yet every emotionally exhausted fiber of her knew she would do it. However, she truly needed this moment first. As Cass and Dana gently and efficiently cleaned between her legs and buttocks, ran damp, heated cloths down her legs, over her skin, grounding her in this world once again, Savannah came to her front, stroked her face. In her bent position, Rachel"s head was at the level of Savannah"s breasts, the lace edges of the bra and curves partially revealed by the button Matt had slipped. Still bound, Rachel raised her gaze to the woman"s face.

Savannah gave her a nod, then slid her arms around Rachel"s shoulders, letting her put her face against that perfumed bosom, take comfort in the softness, the understanding, the calm over the storm. Her hands were cool and strong, everything she needed them to be.

Finally, her arms and legs were uncuffed. She tried to hold her own weight, but of course she was still trembling too badly. As the three women held her, she had one rasping word on her lips.

“Jon.”

Savannah turned her toward him, her arm around Rachel"s bare waist. He stood a few feet away, studying her with those quiet intent eyes, the way he"d so often studied her during class. She moved one foot forward, but now Cass stopped her. Dana knelt, urging her out of the first stiletto, then the other. Now she stood on bare soles, completely naked, except for the collar he"d put on her. A proper slave.

They wouldn"t let her move forward without their help. The pressure of her forward motion told them where she wanted to go, though, so she was leading. When she reached him, her knees let go. They slowed it down, helped her sink in a controlled movement to a kneeling position. Then they stepped back, that space on the stage becoming a silent circle for the two of them alone.

Lifting her attention to his beloved face, Rachel let her eyes dwell briefly on every feature, then she swept her gaze down, bowed her head. “I"m sorry, Master,” she said softly. She didn"t have the strength to say it louder, but it was only him who needed to hear it. “I"ll try…but I need you to remind me I"m worth loving. It"s been so long since…I felt loved. T-thank you. Please…forgive me. I need your forgiveness. I"m so sorry.”

How could she make sense of the tears that came now, the fact that she was sorry, and happy, and sad and exhilarated, and exhausted? And all his.

She waited, her gaze on his feet. As she did, something else happened. Hands settled on her shoulders, a male leg pressing against her bare hip. Peter bent, tilted her head back and kissed her on the lips, offering a quick stroke of her face with a tender hand. The cool judgment she"d seen when he sat in the chair was gone. What was there now was heat and comfort at once, protective and kind. Then he put pressure on her shoulder and neck, directing her to return her gaze to the floor. As he stepped away it was Lucas taking his place, lifting one of her hands to kiss it, fondle the fingers, teasing her chin up for one brief second to give her a nod, show her the acceptance in his gaze as well before he stepped back.

This time her gaze returned to the floor on its own, understanding what was required. Ben"s knuckles slid down her spine, giving her a shiver as he probed between her buttocks, that opening that had burned when he first slid the plug in. Then his mouth touched her nape, a nip and a “Well done”, before he too was gone.

She was hungering for some word from Jon, some indication that she"d met his approval, but she couldn"t deny how overwhelming this was. As well as a little scary, the ramifications of being accepted in such a way, the responsibility. There was no going back from this, no retreat, because Jon now had enough people to surround her fully. And while none of them could stare into the depths of her soul the way Jon could, they all understood her in a way that was too hard to resist.

Her chin was lifted once more and now Matt Kensington squatted in front of her, studying her with dark, unfathomable eyes, his hand strong and sure on her face. He didn"t say anything, just held her in that gaze. With a hard lurch in her chest, she recognized it for what it was, a moment like an ancient tribal ritual. The leader didn"t need to say anything. He was making a point of looking at her, of showing the others in the pack that he saw her. He accepted her. And she"d never be without family again.