My Liege of Dark Haven

Chapter Twelve

In the early evening, guests interested in kinkier games had piled into a long trailer heaped with hay. As Virgil’s pickup slowly pulled the wagon down a tiny road, Abby recalled her grandmother’s sentimental stories about horse-drawn hayrides. Gran might not have been so nostalgic if her rides had terminated in a kinky battle zone.

Still a bit unsettled from the talk with Xavier, Abby was grateful for the long ride. Too many surprises weren’t good for the nerves.

He wanted to play with her. Her.

And he wasn’t cold at all—if anything, he cared too deeply. She leaned back against him, reassured by his strong arm around her as the wagon bumped along. After hearing the pain in his voice when he spoke of his wife, she understood him better. What would it do to such a protective—and controlling—man if he couldn’t save someone he loved?

Her heart ached for him—and a little for herself, because he obviously didn’t want to care for anyone else. But she wasn’t ready to jump into anything either. In fact, it was rather appalling how quickly she’d had sex with Xavier.

What kind of a woman had a relationship fall apart and jumped into bed with another man? Hadn’t she loved Nathan at all? I don’t know anymore.

The trailer came to a halt, and everyone spilled out into a wide clearing surrounded by thick forest. Abby balanced on the wagon side and looked around. Trails led off into the shadowy woods. On one side, various items were piled on hay bales.

“Come, Abby.” Already on the ground, Xavier grasped her around the waist and lifted her down so easily that it took her breath. “I think Lindsey could use some support,” he said, leading her across the clearing.

He stopped beside Lindsey and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re pale, pet. Are you all right?”

Lindsey nodded, although the spattering of freckles stood out on her face, and her brown eyes were wide.

And no wonder. First kinky games in the woods, then later tonight came the dungeon party. How could anyone come to a weekend like this alone? Abby squeezed her hand. Receptionists needed to stick together.

Fingering the white glow-stick collar around her neck, Lindsey gave her a grateful look.

Virgil Masterson stepped onto a hay bale. “Ladies and gentlemen, Tops and bottoms, Masters and slaves, Doms and subs, listen up.” The cop was not only big but had a voice designed for crowd control. “This is a war game. Spectators and noncombatants, please remain by the truck. You’ll get a ride to the end of the trail.

“The Dominants—I’m going to call you ‘Tops’ for ease of speaking—are defending their country. The bottoms are the invaders.”

“Invading submissives? That just sounds wrong,” someone said. Abby recognized Xavier’s Enforcer. DeVries wore a tank top that showed arms and shoulders thick with muscle. No wonder he could wield a heavy flogger for what seemed like forever.

Virgil grinned at him and continued. “All the trails lead to the same place, and the perimeter is fenced, so you can’t get lost. Sing out if you run into trouble. Gerald and Garth”—he gestured to two men wearing orange vests—“are the monitors, and their word is law.

“Attached Tops, shoot only at your bottom. Single Tops can shoot at anyone wearing a glowing white collar.

“Bottoms, there are balls in the clearing at the end. Grab one and throw it into the wading pool. If you manage that, you’ve won, and your Top will owe you foot rubs or whatever.” He pointed to a container with laminated paper cards. “Each Top picks five cards for potential prizes so his bottom has a choice.”

“And how does a Dom prevent such an atrocity as having his submissive win?” The question came from Logan, and Rebecca slapped his arm in admonishment. His hard face softened, and he pulled her against him, her back to his chest. His hands smoothed over her belly with a reverent motion.

“Because the Tops get weapons—four pistols.” Virgil pointed to water pistols filled with colored water on the hay bales.

“Sounding better,” deVries said in approval.

Abby scowled. Talk about uneven odds. “I want a gun too.”

“Dream on, little teacher.” Xavier caught her fist before she could punch him. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms over hers, pinning her arms to her sides. When she squirmed, he changed his position so each hand cupped a breast. The slide of heat through her was startling.

Lindsey glanced over and snickered.

“What are the black-filled pistols for?” Xavier asked Virgil.

Virgil grinned. “The black is the kill shot, and the bottom is dead. Now, if you don’t kill her before she tosses a ball into the pool, she wins, and you might get stuck giving foot rubs for a week.

Abby glanced over her shoulder at Xavier. “I like foot rubs.”

His arms tightened, and he whispered in her ear, “I like blowjobs.”

The tremor that ran through her made him laugh.

“That’s black. Why the other colors?” a Domme asked.

“Ah, now that’s where it gets fun. Each color is for a different…orifice. Can you demonstrate, Logan?”

Grinning, Logan released his wife. He picked up three pistols and fired the first at Rebecca. Crimson liquid splattered over her bare foot. “Red means I get to enjoy her pussy.” Another pistol. Blue covered her ankle. “Blue is for the mouth. She gets to suck me off.” Brown hit her other foot. “Can you guess what brown means, sugar?”

She scowled at him. “The big asshole gets to use my asshole.”

Abby joined the submissives in cheering her answer.

Logan narrowed his eyes at his wife. “That big belly isn’t going to protect you, little rebel.” He turned back to the crowd. “If your bottom is male, you can choose how to use the red color.”

Virgil laughed and resumed. “If you’ve only hit your bottom with red dye before the kill shot, then you’ve only won her pussy. Nothing else.” Virgil pointed to Rebecca. “You see how Logan got Becca with three colors. He potentially wins the use of all three orifices, but only if he nails her with the black after the three colors. No black on the submissive? You win nothing.”

Summer pushed Virgil off the hay bale and stepped on. “See, bottoms? There’s hope. Your greedy Tops will try to shoot you with all three colors and probably won’t use the kill shot until the last minute. So unless you get hit with black, keep going.”

Virgil yanked her over his shoulder and swatted her ass, making her squeak. “Bottoms, don’t hide to avoid losing. You’ll be declared a prisoner of war, and we’ll take turns beating on you before giving you over to your Top for whatever he or she wants to do to you.”

Every bottom in the crowd went stiff, and Virgil nodded in satisfaction.

“You got it, I see. All losing bottoms get displayed on the stage before being released to their Tops.”

PUTTING THE LOSERS on the stage to exhibit them? Lindsey shivered. What would that be like? She didn’t hold much hope that she’d win. She was in good shape, but some of the Doms were scary fit, and there might be more than one—hopefully—interested in shooting at her.

Lindsey glanced at Abby. Although Xavier was fondling her breasts, he was also holding her almost tenderly. Lindsey sighed silently. She doubted they’d be together long—Xavier had a real sorry reputation for submissive turnover—but they looked right. At least Abby would know the person who’d claim her for a prize tonight.

What if I don’t like who wins me? But she’d known the risk when she’d jumped on the hayride. No need to get all worked up until the end of the game. She tugged on the white glow-stick collar around her neck, then raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “Sir?”

Virgil set his wife down. “Lindsey, right?”

She nodded. “What happens if more than one Top shoots a bottom? And how do you tell who did?”

When deVries turned to give her a speculative look, she felt her face turn red. She glared at him. Not you. He had the personality of a half-drowned weasel.

“Excellent question. Single Tops, listen up. Those pistols are for you.” Virgil pointed to a separate pile of weapons. “The red, blue, and brown ammunition”—he grinned—“also has sparkles. You’ll get assigned a sparkle color. At the end, you can claim the appropriate prize—um, orifices—from any bottoms that glitter with your color. Black doesn’t count. As long as the bottom loses—to whomever—all the Tops may claim their prizes.”

Lindsey caught her breath. More than one Top can use me? On the drive out, Summer had asked if she wanted to be taken by more than one man. Lindsey had figured she was joking, but…the idea really turned her on too.

Virgil apparently read her surprise as confusion. “Lindsey, if you lose, and your body shows a red with pink sparkles, blue with black sparkles, and brown with white sparkles, then three Tops will pay you a visit.” He grinned at her.

She managed to inhale but could feel her heart hammering. Shoot, girl, what have you done?

“Bottoms, do remember, the club safe word at Serenity, Dark Haven, and here in the war zone is red. Safe words are always honored,” Virgil said.

“Lindsey, look at the bright side,” Summer said. “If you don’t get killed, you get to demand a prize from any Top who shot you. Single Tops, if you shoot two bottoms and they both win, you have to pay them both off.”

SEEING THE WORRY on Lindsey’s face, Abby patted her arm. “You okay?”

Lindsey fingered her white collar. “Mostly. The idea of two at once is kind of a whole ’nother thing. But I’ve thought on it before. Might be fun.”

A threesome? The Texan had some courage, all right.

Xavier released Abby to run his hand up Lindsey’s arm. “Simon only invites certain Tops and bottoms from Dark Haven. For this game, Logan and Jake did the same for the locals. You shouldn’t end up with a Top who’s totally ill-suited to you.”

As Lindsey relaxed, Abby rubbed her head against Xavier’s chest. He had a wellspring of compassion.

He put his arm around Abby’s waist and bent to whisper, “You, however, are stuck with me, whether it suits you or not.”

His breath brushed her ear and sent pinpricks down her neck.

Virgil pointed to a row of bowls on two hay bales. “Those are fluorescent finger paints. Mark which bottom is yours. For clarity, use only one or two colors, and keep your design unique.”

Logan checked his watch. “Bottoms, there are sacks for your clothing, and water shoes to wear if you’re tender-footed. Tops, grab a belt, pistols, and five reward cards. Do some finger painting. The war starts in exactly ten minutes.”

Xavier released Abby. “Strip, put your clothes in a sack, and wait for me here.”

A rush of adrenaline went through her. “Everything?”

“Definitely.”

“I’m not—”I don’t know if I want to do this. “Not athletic.”

He tugged on her hair. “Excellent. I won’t have to exert myself to get all three shots in first.”

Her eyes widened. All three. She’d never had anal sex. Ever.

He walked a few steps and said without looking back, “Be naked before I return, or you’ll enter the game with my handprint on your ass.”

Uh-uh. She hurriedly stripped, shivering as she stuffed her clothes in a sack. The sun had disappeared behind the trees, leaving the world in a shadowy, semitwilight state. The air held a snowy mountain bite. She pulled on the rubber-soled booties to cushion her feet.

To her right, people had started finger-painting. One Domme made circles around her submissive’s cock. Another Dom was putting cat whisker stripes on a woman’s face.

A hard hand gripped Abby’s arm, and Xavier drew her close to the bowls of paint. After a second of consideration, he chose a bright blue. “Don’t move, little fluff,” he said. “I’m going to give myself something to aim at.” He painted a circle around the outside of her left breast.

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re going to shoot at me there?”

“Only with the blue pistol.” A yellow circle followed, then another blue. He finished by painting yellow on her areola. After he painted her other breast, he smiled. “Perfect bull’s-eye targets, don’t you think?”

Her nipples had tightened to aching points just from the mere touch of his wet finger. Even worse, she was damp already from thinking about…what might happen after the battle. “You’re a sick man,” she muttered.

His eyes lit with laughter. “Turn around.” He painted a target on her bottom, yellow alternating with blue. As the sunlight dimmed further, the circles started to glow.

“One more.” He ran his blue-coated finger across her lower stomach, down her upper left thigh to the right leg, and back to her stomach. A circle around her groin. “Spread your legs.”

No way. No painting on my…crotch.

A stinging smack hit her thigh, and she jumped.

“That wasn’t a request, pet.”

A quiver built in her stomach as she opened her legs. She felt odd, like an object or animal. Smaller. But excited as her choices fell away. He wouldn’t let her sit on the sidelines as she usually did. He’d force her to participate fully.

He drew a circle from the top of her mound to the creases between her thighs and pussy. “Good. Stay in that position so it dries without smearing.”

After washing his hands in the bucket provided, he returned and eyed her with satisfaction. “That gives me a few nice targets.”

DeVries’s laugh rolled out. “Much more fun than the range.”

Abby’s brows drew together. “You know how to shoot?”

Xavier’s small smile was worrisome.

“We go to Simon’s range every week,” deVries said.

“Oh, lovely.” There went her chance at a foot rub. She sighed and muttered, “Nos morituri te salutanti.”

DeVries scowled. “If you’re cursing me, little girl, do it in English.”

“It’s what gladiators said before they got slaughtered in the Roman area,” Xavier said. “We who are about to die salute you.”

“In that case, you have exactly the right mind-set,” deVries said.

As deVries walked away, Xavier went down on one knee in front of Abby’s open legs.

“What are you doing?”

“The air’s getting cold. I’m going to make sure you stay warm.” He grasped her thigh, holding her still. His other hand slid between the folds of her pussy.

“Xavier, no!”

He chuckled and pushed a finger up inside her, and she squeaked at the shock of his ruthless entry. He’d slid in so easily that he must have noticed… Her face heated.

“Yes, it’s obvious you’re excited, pet. I’m pleased.” His hand tightened on her thigh in warning when she tried to move away, but with his finger inside her, she was well anchored. His thumb made slow circles around her clit, occasionally brushing right over the top, and her excitement rose.

“Stop,” she hissed at him as her knees started to wobble.

“Don’t worry. They’ll fire the starting pistol before you come.” His thumb pressed harder. “Probably.”

The pressure in her center started to build and—

The gun fired, startling her. As Xavier released her and rose to his feet, Virgil announced, “Bottoms, you have a two-minute head start before the pistol sounds for the Tops. Run!”

Run? With my breasts bouncing and—

Xavier smacked her bottom, and she jolted forward, then kept going. Ahead of her the other bottoms ran, their bright, glowing patterns bounding like a herd of multicolored zebras. Abby veered onto the far right trail, and the scent of pine rose around her as the shadowy forest surrounded her.

The trail was wide and flat with narrower paths branching to small open areas. She slowed and entered one. A rope guarded one side, preventing access to a wooden deer silhouette several yards away. The clearings must be the firing ranges for the black-powder guys. Maybe she could hide? No, being punished by everyone sounded ghastly.

Under a tree, blankets had been piled in a heap. Her heart gave a hard thud as she realized they were for use after the battle. Oh. My. The Tops weren’t planning to collect their prizes in the privacy of a bedroom. She swallowed hard.

Then her eyes narrowed as she stared at the quilts. Virgil hadn’t mentioned anything about being sneaky. Yes! Even as she ran forward and grabbed a blanket, the sound of the pistol split the air.

“We’re at war. Tops, defend your territory or suffer defeat,” Virgil yelled.

As shouts, whistles, and a rebel yell sounded, Abby wrapped herself in a light quilt and checked her body. Not one glowing paint strip showed. Ha! I’m going to win, Xavier. As she turned to leave the clearing, she noticed a smaller path leading to the next firing range. If there were more shortcuts, they’d be far safer than using the big trail.

Heavy footsteps pounded through the forest. A scream sounded and a shout of jubilation. “Your mouth is mine!”

More shouts, shrieks, scrambling sounds. A chill ran up Abby’s spine. It sounded like a war zone. Do not go on the trail.

Sneaking toward the next shooting area, she spotted Logan in an orange dungeon monitor’s vest. He grinned at her blanket-swathed form, touched his brow in a mock salute, and returned to the main trail.

She let out the breath she’d been holding. He wouldn’t give her away.

Another clearing. She paused.

A submissive was trying to hide behind a tree, but her glowing white collar was like a beacon. With a start Abby recognized Lindsey. She started to step forward—

A stream of glittering liquid hit Lindsey between the breasts, and she let out a shocked scream.

Low and rough, deVries’s voice came from the shadows near the firing point. “I’ll be looking for you afterward, little girl. In case you can’t tell, that was the brown.”

Swearing under her breath, Lindsey scrambled back onto the trail, and her white collar disappeared.

DeVries strolled across the clearing, slowing long enough to glance at Abby and say, “If Xavier catches you with that blanket, you won’t sit down for a week.” The Enforcer’s shadowy form moved away in total silence.

Abby realized she was shaking uncontrollably, her heart hammering. This wasn’t a healthy sport at all. She really did feel hunted. Like prey.

Would Xavier be mad? Her chin came up. Too bad. She’d just make sure he didn’t catch her. But to her dismay, the far side of the clearing lacked another shortcut.

Trying to be as silent as deVries, she moved onto the main trail. The paint designs of the bottoms stood out vividly; the Doms were dim shapes moving through the trees.

Well, if a Top didn’t get close enough to see her wrapped up, he wouldn’t know she was a bottom. Be bold. Act as if you belong here.

She stalked forward and barely dodged out of the way of a racing pair. The Domme swore as her shot missed.

Abby kept going. She turned one corner.

As she stepped around another, her blanket was ripped out of her hands. She yelped and spun.

“I’m not sure if that’s cheating or incredibly smart, but it’s over now.” Xavier gripped her chin and kissed her firmly. “You know, you’re so fair-skinned, you glow even without paint.” He stepped back, and liquid splattered on her right breast.

Shot. He’d shot her.

“That was the blue pistol. Next is the brown.”

“Di te perdant,” she swore and heard him laugh. She dashed away, back muscles taut, tensed in anticipation of another spray of liquid.

She couldn’t hear if he followed. As her pulse roared in her ears, she stepped behind a tree and tried to catch her breath. More screams. A man cursing. A smack of flesh and a yelp. Maybe someone else had found the blankets.

Behind Abby, lights appeared, one by one, swinging high above the trail. Someone must have hung glow sticks in the trees and now was bending them to make them light.

Virgil must be preparing to end the war. Time to go. She sure didn’t want to get punished for being late. She stepped onto the trail, started to run, and got hit with a full stream of paint right on her bottom. Cold, cold liquid trickled down the backs of her thighs.

“That one was brown.” Xavier’s deep voice came out of the shadows. “Run, pet.”

Growling under her breath, she darted away, trying to support her bouncing breasts. Brown. Anal sex. Her behind felt as if it were puckering in protest.

She passed two exhausted submissives and a Dom who almost shot her in reflex, before taking refuge completely off the trail. The debris on the forest floor dug into her feet despite the thin-soled shoes. An unseen branch scraped her leg painfully. Two shadowy forms went by, and from the height of one, she had a feeling it was Xavier. She was now behind him. Perfect.

Through the scant underbrush, she advanced toward the lighted clearing. Most of the nearby balls had been tossed into the wading pool or lay around it. She needed a way to get a ball without getting killed. Maybe if she approached from the other side?

Xavier had only shot her twice. Knowing him, he’d have to try for a third. I can do it.

She winced as branches tugged on her hair and scratched her arms, and perversely the small amount of pain made her even more aroused and wet. She might feel like prey, but her body wanted exactly what Xavier intended, and everything seemed to tantalize her senses. Even pain.

Slowly she worked her way around the tree line to the far side. Staying hidden and using a stick, she maneuvered a ball close enough to pick it up. A soccer ball. Honestly, who thought up this idiotic game?

As she held the cold plastic to her chest, the blue paint on her breasts smeared it. That color meant oral sex. She’d never been fond of giving blowjobs. Yet the thought of taking Xavier’s cock in her mouth, knowing he’d not let her move away, how he’d make her take it deeper, was just plain hot. Feeling her pussy getting swollen and slick, she rolled her eyes. If this continued, she’d be running bowlegged.

A stage filled the far side of the huge clearing, and the calculating Doms had put the wading pool in the center of the area. She had to get closer. Very, very quickly.

Taking a firm grip on the ball, she charged across the open space, zigzagging in the proper soldierly manner. Nothing happened. Fixing her gaze on the goal, she increased her speed…and spotted Xavier off to one side, a pistol in each hand, like an old-fashioned gunslinger.

She zagged. Zigged.

Red hit her crotch. No! Almost there. She raised the ball to throw.

Black splashed onto her left breast.

THE SURGE OF triumph was fascinating, and Xavier grinned as Abby stopped dead, staring at the black dripping down her breast onto her stomach.

“Very colorful, Xavier,” Logan called from the stage where a mixture of Tops and bottoms were standing. “Looks like you’ll enjoy your win.”

He planned to. Xavier crossed to his little submissive and curled his fingers around her soft upper arm. Although she glared at him, he felt a tremor run through her at his touch. Anxious and excited. Perfect.

Virgil greeted him as he led her up the stairs. “To keep the prisoners from escaping while the battle concludes, we have a variety of immobilization devices,” he said. “Use how many you think best. Once she’s restrained, clean the paint off her—otherwise you’ll both glow in the dark.”

Xavier glanced around. On one side were a couple of large dog cages, one already occupied. A three-rail fence ran along the back of the stage. The neck-high railing held chains and collars; the chest-high one had ropes with breast clamps. From the lowest railing, boards extended every few feet, and each had a condomed dildo bolted to it, sticking up and ready for use. “Interesting arrangements.”

Virgil grinned and nodded at his own submissive, who’d been both collared and clamped. She scowled at him. “Some wouldn’t agree,” he said mildly.

“Narrow minds.” Xavier closed his hand around Abby’s nape, pushing her over to a board with a thin, short dildo.

She tried to pull away.

“Now, you decide, pet,” he said gently. “You can politely put your cunt on the dildo. If you give me trouble or glare at me, I’ll put you on it…and it will be in your ass.”

Her eyes grew so big he almost relented. But the lights on the stage also showed the redness of arousal in her cheeks and lips. Her nipples were spiked and tight. She might think she didn’t want to be displayed, but it excited her at the same time. And since she had no choice—except which orifice—she’d enjoy the experience without feeling guilty.

She swung a leg over the board.

“Wait.” Before she could lower herself, he ran his fingers through her puffy folds. Very, very wet. His cock hardened to the point of pain. “Well, this shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

At her small sound of embarrassment, he nuzzled her hair. “Abby, the point of the games is to arouse little submissives—and their Doms. I’d worry if you weren’t excited.”

He kept his hand on her pussy, opening her labia and pushing down on her shoulder. Taking the control away from her. Her breath hitched as the dildo entered her, but he’d chosen one with a small shaft. If she’d been more experienced, he would have picked something she’d have to work at—something like what Lindsey would receive, if he’d read deVries’s intentions correctly.

DAMNFINITO. STANDING ON the stage, Lindsey scowled. She should have been faster. Sneakier. The Enforcer had shot her twice, and Mitchell had gotten her once. Two men. Excitement shivered through her, accompanied by a big pinch of worry. DeVries didn’t even like her, so why had he shot her?

As if summoned, the sorry-ass bastard strolled over. “Time to get you situated.” He tilted her head up, studying her face for a bone-quivering moment. “You’re a pretty one, all right.”

A compliment?

Before she got over the surprise, he tangled his hand in her hair and pulled. “Come along.” She tried to drag her feet, but deVries hauled her across the stage as he would a whipped hound dog.

When he stopped at a board with a dildo sticking up from it, she stiffened. “You’re not fixin’ to put me on that thing.”

In answer, he pulled a packet from his pocket, ripped it open with his teeth, and squirted lube on the condom-covered shaft. “Not all of you. Just your asshole.”

“My—” She stared at him, appalled.

“You’ve had anal sex before, little girl, and I intend to fuck you tonight. Might as well start getting you stretched out a bit.” The reasonableness of his answer was belied by the hard, hot look in his eyes. He did intend to take her tonight, and he wasn’t known for being gentle about it.

She shivered as electricity sizzled along her nerves like summer lightning. “I’m not up to your speed, remember?”

“I’m not going to whip you, Lindsey.” His hand in her hair loosened, and he combed through the strands, stepping close enough that her almost nonexistent breasts brushed against his shirt. He bent and whispered in her ear, “But I am going to fuck you, long and hard.”

Her insides melted like butter under a summer sun.

Mitchell walked up. “The dildo going in her pretty ass?” With a firm grip on Lindsey’s ankle, he lifted her leg over the board so she straddled it.

“Seemed right.” The Enforcer nodded to her. “Down.”

Her knees locked. “No.”

“Oh yes. Definitely yes.” DeVries put an arm behind her and his hand in front. “Hang on to me, and we’ll help you out. Mitchell, open her up.”

Her hands closed on his thick forearm. He had light hair over the dark tan, and her fingernails dug into iron-hard muscles. She felt Mitchell spread her butt cheeks, and heat started to smother her reluctance. Two men were touching her.

As she bent her knees, the tip of the dildo entered her asshole, encountered resistance. Too big. She tried to surge up.

“Breathe, little girl. You can go as slow as you want…as long as you keep going.” DeVries pinned her between his arms. In the floodlights, his eyes were the gray of steel and openly amused. “Don’t even try to tell me you’re not excited as hell.”

She was, damn him anyway. As she relaxed her knees again, the shaft pushed in, burning and stretching despite the slickness. “Uuuhhhh…” It went deeper. Deeper.

By the time it was completely in, she was panting, and her abused hole throbbed in complaint.

DeVries lifted her chin. “Does it hurt, little girl?” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Good. Does the pain make you hotter?” His hand gently fondled her breast, and shivers ran up her spine at the unyielding look in his intent eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Lindsey. I’ll know.”

Sweet Jesus, he already knew the answer. She was so wet, she could feel the slickness on her thighs. The burning nerves in her bottom aroused her far more than she’d ever thought possible. “Yes.”

“Good to hear.” Still on one knee, Mitchell chuckled and squeezed her ass cheeks, adding to the sensations.

“I like that answer.” DeVries pinched her nipple, just enough so the light pain merged with that in her ass—and heat and need flared higher inside her. “You’re going to submit to us, Lindsey. Both of us at once,” he murmured. “My cock will stretch that tender little ass even more, and I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”