The Mistress

“Don’t be mad, sir,” she said to Søren, “but I totally came for me.”

He laughed then, a deep pure laugh of utter happiness. A beautiful wide-open laugh. She wanted to hear it every day of her life.

“Oh, very well,” he said, kissing her as he cupped her br**sts from behind, “but the next one is for us.”

“Promise.”

“She might not have come for me...” Kingsley said as he pulled his finger out of her. “But she did come on me.” He raised his arm and, in the candlelight, Eleanor could see a wet stain on Kingsley’s cuff.

“Very nice,” Søren said, impressed.

“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning,” Eleanor promised.

“Never. I’m never washing this shirt again.” He sounded like he meant it.

Søren untied her from the bed, and her arms fell heavy to her sides. She wobbled a little on her heels, light-headed from the orgasm and the restraints. Søren caught her up in his arms. Kingsley pulled back the covers and Søren laid her down. He unzipped her skirt and pulled it off her hips. As he undressed her, Eleanor watched Kingsley. His eyes moved from her to Søren and back to her. She saw desire in his dark eyes but not only for her.

When he’d stripped her of everything but her white high heels, Søren pulled her into the bed. She lay on top of him, her back to his chest. He draped her legs over his thighs and held her arms down by her sides. With his body alone he held her in bondage as Kingsley crawled between her knees and kissed her from her hips to her br**sts to her mouth. When their lips met he pushed inside her. She’d had to fight one moment of panic when she looked up and saw Kingsley’s face over her and not Søren’s. But the pleasure consumed her. This wasn’t making love or even sex. Kneeling between her legs, Kingsley f**ked her and he f**ked her harder than she’d ever been f**ked. She came with her eyes closed and only after, when she opened them again, did she see Kingsley staring down, but not at her.

Slowly, Kingsley pulled out of her and started to undress. Søren left her on the bed while he undressed, then lay next to her left side. Kingsley was at her right. Søren brought her leg over his hip and entered her. Face-to-face, no restraints tying her down... Had they ever had sex like this before? Not that she remembered. Usually he put her on her stomach or bent her over the bed if no bondage was involved. During face-to-face sex, her hands were almost always tied to the bed. The beating had even been mild compared to their usual level of pain he brought her to. Something about Kingsley being with them heightened Søren’s arousal as much or more than sadism did. Did Søren enjoy seeing her with another man that much? Or was there something else?

As he moved in her, Eleanor let herself simply enjoy the presence of him inside her, the taste of his mouth on her lips, the scent of skin—winter, always winter. She’d almost forgotten Kingsley was there until she felt a hand that didn’t belong to Søren roving over her side, sliding over her hips and down her thighs.

“Thank you.” Søren kissed her neck right under her ear.

“For what?”

“Trusting me.”

“I do trust you, sir.”

“How much?” he asked, a dark glint of amusement shining in his eyes.

“Try me,” she challenged.

“Dangerous words.”

“That’s why I said them, sir.”

Søren answered her challenge by rolling them both onto their sides. He dragged her leg over his hip and kept moving in her. She felt Kingsley’s hand caressing her from her neck to the small of her back. She relaxed into the touch and the hypnotic rhythm of Søren moving inside her. When she stiffened at the cold liquid on her and started to protest, Søren shushed her with a kiss and a hand on her face tracing her cheekbone.

“For me?” he asked.

She answered with a nod and buried her head against his chest as Kingsley began to push inside her. Eleanor whimpered in the back of her throat as both men pushed into her at once. Her first experience with anal had been horrific, but since then she’d come to love it. It was the height of sexual intimacy to her and Søren seemed to love it almost as much as she did. Maybe even more. But she’d never been penetrated anally and vaginally at the same time. She clung to Søren in need and fear. She felt filled beyond belief with both of them inside her. Her fingernails dug deep into Søren’s back. Søren took her hand from around his neck and pushed it onto Kingsley’s thigh.

“Him,” he breathed against her lips, and Eleanor scratched hard into Kingsley’s leg, hard enough she knew she broke the skin. Kingsley gasped as the pace of his thrusts increased. Receiving pain seemed to turn Kingsley on as much as it turned Søren on to give it.

Eleanor breathed deep as her climax built again. Kingsley’s hand wrapped around her hip and found her clitoris. She’d never known pleasure like this before. It consumed her, devoured her, swallowed her whole. She gave in to it, surrendering herself entirely. Never in her life had she felt so wanton, so shameless. She was nothing but a body that existed solely to be used for the pleasures of men. In that moment she embraced that purpose like the temple prostitutes of ancient times, spreading for the gods, men and beasts alike, for inside her body the three became one.

When she came, the climax gripped her stomach with iron claws and she shuddered for what felt like an eternity in Søren’s arms. She didn’t even notice either of them coming inside her, so lost as she was in her own ecstasy. Only when she lay on her back in the bed, emptied out, did she feel the wetness pouring out of her and dripping onto her thighs and the sheets.