Chapter Three

 

 

 

“He doesn’t always mean well,” Valorie said, glancing up at John before considering the note again. “But this time he really does, the endearing jerk. If I take that gag off you, you gonna be nice? Because I did not put him up to this.”

John nodded, some of his annoyance dissipating—slowly, but dissipating nonetheless.

Over a year of quiet reflection had done wonders with this one. His bullying felon compatriot, Shawn, still hadn’t recovered from the shock and trauma of his transformation, which was why he was confined to his exhibition tent when the circus was open and didn’t perform in the ring, although sometimes the Cyclops was trotted out under the spotlight to show him off.

John’s eyes were bright and aware as she untied his gag. He had a tent on Oddity Row too, but he didn’t use it much. Bell wouldn’t let the canvas or anything else within the boundaries of the tent catch fire, but for both the man’s and the audience’s peace of mind, it was much better to have lots of open space around him when John’s fire act got more elaborate. The clowns had a makeshift ring of driftwood planks and sawdust. When the clowns weren’t cavorting, John would often do his act there, for the protection of the customers. It never went wrong when people were watching, but better safe than sorry—whatever John needed in order to do the things that Bell wanted of him.

“How long have you been here?” Valorie asked.

He performed during the day, but he hadn’t been assigned an evening act yet. He could have been here for just fifteen minutes or the last few hours.

“Since everyone started gathering in the big top,” he replied.

She hoped he’d used a toilet before Bell had abducted him.

“Anything hurt?”

“Does my pride and dignity count?”

“No,” she said.

“Then no. Wrists, a little.” John leaned his head back and stared at his wrists bound to the bar. He was a tall boy, and with his ankles bound and deliberately stretched out in front of him so that it was difficult to get his footing, most of the weight was on his wrists. The flesh had been chafed by the unpleasant rope.

She thought of him as ‘boy’. He was about Seth’s and Lars’ age, the age that she appeared. Still young for her as she actually was. He had a football player’s broad shoulders and physique, though not as meaty as Shawn. His skin was darker than hers, but not as dark as Lars’. It took on a pinkish cast where his scars boiled over his hands and face.

“You know why you’re here, fire-eater?” she asked. He hadn’t earned his name yet, this relative stranger in her home. Calling him Freddy before, however, had been unkind. She didn’t usually jibe about freakishness with her fellow oddities. And she didn’t know him well enough for her insults to be considered affectionate.

“The genie didn’t elaborate,” John answered.

The common English pronunciation for jinni was close enough for Western purposes that Valorie wouldn’t slap his knuckles with a ruler.

“He just grabbed me, poofed me over here, tied me up and told me to wait like a good boy.” John sneered. With the scars, it was a good sneer. Valorie approved.

She jumped back to sit on the small kitchenette counter.

“Aren’t you going to let me down?” John asked. She gave him a point for trying to conceal the petulant demand in his question.

“Not yet,” she said, crossing her ankles. “You know, I’ve been whining with my people about how awful it is that I have to go without sex for a while. I’m used to a lot of it, and I’m not pleased that my access has been cut off for the last few days. Actually, I’m the one who cut it off, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“Gee, just a few—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, or I’ll leave you up there all night,” Valorie said.

She’d do it too. There were potions for healing something like rope burn—superficial wounds were a cinch. There weren’t potions for insolence. Or if there were, Bell didn’t supply them.

Valorie leaned forward with her elbows on her thighs, looking him over.

“It occurs to me that you must have had it quite…hard these long, long months. All the same impulses that the rest of us have, plus your healthy young male libido, finally liberated from the more depraved impulses that brought you here in the first place… All the magic and none of the release. Your hand doesn’t cut it anymore, does it? What do you use these days? Do the golems bring you fruit that you warm up in the microwave? Or pie? Do you use pie?”

John opened his mouth, whether to protest or stammer she’d never know, because he shut it again. His expression had twisted from annoyance to comical bewilderment—and discomfort, like any boy who had been caught in his desire. She deliberately avoided looking at his trousers, but she didn’t have to in order to know what she’d see. Poor boy was probably on a hair trigger after all this time.

“It doesn’t matter what you use,” Valorie said. “I’d been planning on using a slew of toys tonight to keep myself satisfied. Probably wouldn’t have worked very well, if the tingling in my nethers tells me anything. Lord Mikhail is feeding. Would you say Lady Sasha’s doing the same?”

John nodded. He swallowed thickly, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing like an arrow trapped in his throat.

“Now, Bell made a big gesture in giving you to me. But it was all show,” Valorie said, sliding off the counter and stepping closer. Her feet didn’t make a sound. She wanted to disturb nothing but him. “I can’t make you want me. I can’t make you have sex with me. But now that you’re here, I see potential, boy. I really do. You’re nice to look at.”

“I don’t like it when people make fun of me,” John snapped.

She pinched his chest then slipped behind him. “In this business, you get used to it. But I’m not making fun of you, fire-eater. I like what I see. Us veterans don’t really see the ones who come in as punishment. You’ve been cold-shouldered enough that you know what I mean. But you must have made Bell happy enough over the last year if he’s handed you over to me. Now that I see what I’ve been missing, I think I could definitely do worse.”

“Thanks,” John said. He hadn’t been in the sarcasm game with her long enough. His venom didn’t even faze her.

“Good body,” she murmured. Now she ran her nails along the line of his shoulder. The unscarred skin pebbled with goosebumps. “Lovely eyes. Hot mouth. Are you going to hurt me with that mouth if I let it please me, pet?”

“Is that what I’m going to be? Your pet?” John asked. He swayed in his bonds.

“It’s not such a bad thing to be. A girl needs to take care of her pet. Feed it, stroke it, make sure its needs are met, sometimes even before her own—but not most of the time,” Valorie replied. “Most of the time, the Queen’s demands are to be obeyed.” She stroked the line of his jaw, almost brushed the scars on his lips but pulled back at the last second. “It won’t be an even balance. Understand?”

“I get it. Slavery and servitude. I guess you learned from the best.”

“That’s very hurtful,” Valorie said. “I already told you I can’t make you have sex with me. I can’t make you stay. If I untie you and you want to leave, I’m not allowed to stop you.”

She stepped around in front of him again, still determined not to look down at his trousers lest her mouth start to water, ruining the tone she’d set.

“Bell wrapped you up into a nice little gift for me. He’s a showman. He’s good at presentation,” Valorie said. “He’s not the only one.”

She reached behind her and unzipped the catsuit from where it started between her shoulder blades, down to her ass. That was another plus to flexibility. She never had to ask anyone to do her zippers or her corset ties. She could always reach.

Valorie peeled the leather away from the top half of her body.

“Oh God, that is so not fair,” John groaned as Valorie exposed her breasts and her abdomen, all the way to the crease where her mound began.

“It’s important for you to know what your options are, boy,” Valorie said. She pushed the rest down her legs without having to bend them. “And what you’re getting if you choose the way I want you to choose.”

She stepped out of the catsuit and smoothed her palms over her body all the way back to upright. Arcanium got rid of modesty and body shame pretty quickly. Most people and demons didn’t wear much of anything. They were all shapes, sizes and colors. And they all kept getting naked with one another.

“In order to have me, you have to do for me. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied after I’m satisfied that you’ve done well,” she said.

Valorie stepped to either side of his bound legs stretched out before him, gradually drawing closer and closer to his hips. The way he was hanging, she was taller than him. It made her powerful, him looking up at her with blatant need shining through his half-obscured face.

“Now, I don’t know how good you are yet or how much instruction is going to be involved. But if you don’t want a woman telling you what to do, even if it gets you what you want, you can waddle right on out that door like you’ve been riding a horse for a month. You got your ways, I got mine and this is my home. You’re not going to get me into bed and take over. I can kick you out if you try to play the fool with me. I’ve been here a long time, boy. Bell would be very displeased if you were to do something I didn’t want. Comprende, chico?”

“You’re really serious? You’re not just playing me? Because it feels like decades since I’ve had sex, with all that damn magic flying around,” John said.

Valorie took his face between her hands. He exhaled an involuntary sigh like a moan.

“Does it look like I’m playing around?” Valorie asked.

She didn’t know how much feeling he had in his lips with the build-up of scar tissue there as well as some places inside his mouth. But when she licked his upper lip then caught it between hers in a kiss, he twitched violently, swaying in his bonds. Any time he tried to take the lead, she changed the angle, and he couldn’t do anything to stop her.

Finally the boy figured things out. He sagged from the bar and let her strip him of control one magically fueled moment at a time. She rocked her hips against his in slow undulations, almost like a dance. Her cunt dampened the front of his leather trousers. But she didn’t give him any pressure. Any time he tried to lift his hips up by pushing at the floor with his heels, she shifted back, away from his cock. At best, he’d be able to feel that she was there, the brush of her, perhaps the heat. But he couldn’t rub himself against her, couldn’t relieve the tension straining up from under the placket.

From what she could feel of him, he certainly wouldn’t be Arcanium regulation during the day.

The only thing that kept Bell from criminal lewdness charges all over the place was magic. Just enough to entice, not enough to shock. Kids were allowed in before eight o’clock, after all, although Arcanium made no secret that it was not a family circus. In its advertising and on the information boards at the ticket entrance—either at Arcanium’s gates when they were solo or at the gates of the faire or park that they’d attached themselves to—Arcanium warned that the circus wasn’t recommended for children under the age of thirteen. They left the discretion—and the risk—to the parents. They weren’t quite the lewd, crude, rude freak sideshow that some of the other circuses were—which wasn’t a bad thing, just not what Bell had been going for. But they had a little bit of everything.

John had a lot of something. It felt good. And he wasn’t even a demon.

“What do you say, fire-eater?” Valorie asked against his mouth. When he tried to taste her again, she met him with her tongue but didn’t let him in. “You ready to play according to my rules, or are you going to forfeit the game?”

“I thought girls hated sports metaphors,” John said.

“I wasn’t talking sports.” Her nipples brushed his chest.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he said, practically leaping up. “Please don’t make me leave. I think I’m going to explode if I don’t…”

“You won’t explode,” Valorie said, stepping back. He groaned at her absence. “You might go a little crazy.”

“I’m already a little crazy,” John replied. “Because of your boss.”

“Who did this to you because…?” Valorie prompted.

He sighed. Not a moan. “I’d blame Cameron, but his death was bad enough without me damning him more. The genie did this to me because of me. Because of what I did.”

“The pup can be taught.”

“What are you in for, then?” he asked as she worked on the knot that tied him to the bar.

“Stupidity and random chance,” Valorie said, “which is better than you, pizza oven. There.”

John dropped onto his ass, grunting and wincing because he hadn’t been able to prepare himself for it.

“Now…” she continued, stepping back and sitting on the coffee table. The golems would clean any mess she or they made, like elves in the night. They always did.

She sat back and spread her legs. Not to an inhuman degree, but enough to make the boy salivate. He wet his lips.

“Come over here and lick me, pet,” she ordered.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” John asked, holding up his wrists.

“I already did. Oh, you mean unbind you? Nope. Not until you make this pussy purr,” Valorie said.

“Oh, come on.”

“Do you want me or not, fire-eater? It’s as simple as that. If you do, you crawl over here like a caterpillar and make me come. Once I’ve had what I need, I’ll give you what you need. If you’d rather get it from warm pastries, be my guest.”

With Bell, she’d been an equal in the bedroom, even though Bell had really had all the power. With Lennon, they’d been equals, more or less.

John was not her equal. John was still in the penalty box, if she had to go with a sports metaphor. He wasn’t on probation, despite Bell bringing him to her. He was in prison. If he got a conjugal visit, that was one of the few perks a prisoner could have, but it didn’t make him free and it didn’t make him her equal. He had to earn his way up—with Arcanium as a whole and with her. It had taken Misha over ten years before Bell had given him some reprieve. Colm, one of Caroline’s carousel men, was still a prisoner after over fifty years, although allowances had to be made for the fact that Colm used to be a demon himself. Bell adjusted the sentences accordingly between mortals and immortals.

Those pretty eyes, almost as black as a demon’s, glared at her, but he couldn’t keep them away from her tits and her pussy for very long after such an extended period of self-denial. Valorie knew he wouldn’t say no. He’d take what he was offered and take it gladly.

Was it flattering that she was a condemned man’s only option, something he couldn’t afford to say no to after about a year and a half of celibacy? Not really. But it wasn’t flattering to him either that he was only there because she didn’t have anyone else to play with. So she guessed they were even on that, if not equal. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and they could both do much worse.

John rolled onto his side to push himself up by his elbows and knees. He couldn’t crawl like a normal person with his arms and legs bound the way they were. The ropes weren’t just on the wrists and ankles, but twisted up his legs and forearms in crude mimicry of Japanese bondage. He couldn’t part his elbows and knees very far.

Valorie licked her lips pointedly as he shuffled toward her. He clenched his teeth, well aware of how undignified he must look. She’d never had a bound man crawl to her like this. But now that it was happening, she wondered why she hadn’t demanded it in the past. His ass wriggled from side to side, and he just looked so humiliated by it. She wished she’d opened his trousers for his cock to beckon her the same way.

As unflattering as it was that he wouldn’t want her if he had anyone else clamoring for his bed, the fact that he was willing to do this for her made up for it.

When he reached the coffee table, she lifted his chin with one black-painted fingernail.

“Very good boy,” she murmured. “You want your treat?”

“Am I allowed to talk?” John asked.

“Depends what you want to say,” she said.

“That’s a no, then.”

“Pets are allowed to talk if they can. Some you can’t get to shut up. Try me.”

“I don’t like licking pussy,” John said. “I never have.”

Valorie smiled, her tongue pressed to one of her canine teeth. “I think you should try it again. People change. Go on, pet. Have a taste.”

She drew him in by the sharpness of her curved nail on his chin, all the way to her folds, but he gazed at her face as though captivated. His eyebrows were furrowed, curious, perhaps wondering what secret she wasn’t sharing as he finally lowered his gaze and parted his lips.

With just the tip, John ran his tongue along her slit. He slipped in, spreading her taste over his tongue and swallowing.

Then, groaning, he darted forward again to plunge his tongue inside her. He drew out more of her juices, smearing them over her folds and her clit. He sucked her like candy, grunting and humming like a man feasting to his heart’s desire, a gourmand presented with his favorite meal, the waiter putting more and more in front of him with no end in sight.

So maybe she was still a little hungry, but she didn’t think it was for food anymore.

Once he got started, his enthusiasm helped hide some of his novice errors. So did the sex magic thick as smoke and fog in the RV and probably all over the circus. He was new, but he had good instincts, and her clit had low standards when she was this turned on. Besides, he was her pet now. She could instruct him, and given the way he buried himself between her legs, coating her juices all over his face without a care in the world, he’d be amenable to learning a thing or two.

As much as he was enjoying it, though, Valorie guessed that eating a woman out was still something he probably wouldn’t be caught doing on the outside or if anyone else was watching—though he’d gladly accept and expect a woman’s mouth around his cock, she was sure.

She considered this part of his reconditioning. Every touch was new, every taste, every smell. Everything was so fucking good when incubus and succubus spells went through a body like fever. A person developed a whole new appreciation for sex—all kinds of sex with all kinds of people.

It was truly a shame there weren’t more female demons in Arcanium. The human women had all the demon cock they could stand, but men didn’t have demon pussy to sink themselves into, with Lady Sasha off limits. There was also Comedy, the female of the clown trio. But no one but Caroline was stupid enough to even try to get near the clowns without Bell around, and no one could figure out why the clowns liked her when she kept saving children from them and getting whipped for it.

Valorie had sampled the available male demon pool—which was totally worth the sampling and how—but John really didn’t have anyone to lose his mind and his dick in unless he was a little gay, which she doubted.

Looked like he was stuck with her, but he didn’t seem to be too unhappy about that turn of events at the present moment.

Neither was she. She petted his smooth head, the nerves in her palm seeming to startle when they passed from scalp to scar. But she got used to it quickly, because now she was guiding his head, and he could take direction, and oh God, keep licking right there, and suck it a little…

Valorie had been able to go telepathic with Bell with her needs when her mouth had stopped being able to form words. She didn’t have the same malady with John. Words spilled from her lips and he obeyed as though it was second nature, as though everything that made her croon, moan, gasp, or cry made him feel just as good.

She taught him how to vary his tongue on her clit, little flicks, around it rather than on it, firm strokes, broad, soft laps, humming as he sucked on her. She directed him between her folds until he finally moved with just her hand, even though he had no hair to pull.

Valorie whimpered when he plunged his tongue into her as far as he could. It wasn’t as good as Lennon, who had real length to his tongue, not to mention dexterity. But while she couldn’t help but compare, she didn’t begrudge him for the fact he was human, and the way he fucked her with his tongue only intensified her anticipation of other things he was going to fuck her with.

“Back up here, pet,” Valorie said. She guided him to her clit once again, her orgasm bubbling under the surface. She was ready to boil.

John rubbed his bound hands against the front of his trousers, the best he could without full use of his hands. His moans vibrated through her every time he applied pressure to her clit.

“Lick it, pet. Lick it hard and suck it,” Valorie snapped. She mashed his mouth against her, but it wasn’t enough, even though he looked like he might come just from eating her out and the awkward strokes through his leather.

His eyes rolled back as she pushed herself standing. She still didn’t let him take his mouth off her, practically smothering him.

Valorie pushed John up and back, back, bowling him over. He shouted, muffled in her flesh, as she pinned him to the floor and sat on his face, frantically rocking her pussy over him as he writhed underneath her.

“Faster, faster, faster,” she gasped.

Her skin broke out in pleasure like gooseflesh as the orgasm galloped through her. She didn’t care if she was causing his tongue to cramp. He wasn’t going to let up until she was finished.

Valorie cried out as she came. When a man did a good job, she had always believed he deserved to know his work was appreciated.

It had been a long time since Valorie had climaxed outside Arcanium. She was pretty sure the world outside was going to royally disappoint her after twenty years of consistently amazing orgasms. They weren’t all the same, of course, otherwise she would have started taking them for granted a long time ago. But every single one of them was good, no matter how bad she was feeling, and she hadn’t gotten tired of it yet. Tired of constantly needing sex? Sometimes. Tired of the earth-shattering sex she was having? Not at all. If she had to have sex this much, it damn well better be good.

”Oh…” she sighed, sliding back over his chin and smearing her juices, her scent, along his neck and chest before lying back over his bound arms. The rope scratched the valley of her spine, but she didn’t care. She rested her head on his thigh, inches away from his cock.

Now she could get a look at him to her heart’s content. No, definitely not demon big, but that wasn’t as important as what he could do with it. If he could use his cock half as well as his tongue, Valorie thought they’d get along splendidly.

Demon cocks should hurt like hell, and the largest should perforate organs, but they didn’t. The stretch of her pussy around them ached with terrible pleasure instead of pain. Her body always seemed to accommodate the obscene lengths and widths without strain or organ bruising. Some kind of magic on their side, no question.

Human cock, though? She hadn’t had a man who wasn’t masquerading since Troy, and that had been damn fine. Just because John couldn’t measure up physically with her usual fare didn’t mean he couldn’t use what his mama gave him just as well.

“You learn quickly, pet,” Valorie said, stretching with feline luxury.

His cock moved in his trousers. He must have been terribly uncomfortable, pants that tight, cock probably leaking and needing room to grow.

“You like that?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied hoarsely.

“Now what do you tell me?”

“Thank you?” John asked. He was too stunned to add sarcasm.

“Well, yes. And you’re welcome. I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Mistress knows best’, but that works.”

He turned his head and bit her thigh above her knee, where she was still kneeling on either side of his head as she reclined. She jumped then laughed a little.

“What about your side of the bargain?” he asked. He lifted his hips involuntarily as she shifted her head closer to the place where the leather seemed molded to his scrotum with the tightness from his erection.

“What bargain is that?” she asked. She nuzzled his balls, turned her neck more so that she could mouth them, one side then the other.

You know what they say—more than a mouthful’s wasted, she thought with amusement. Tight, close balls, but thick cock. She brushed it with her cheek a few times as she lavished her attention, one layer removed, on his testicles.

“The one where…if I give you…what you need…you’ll…give me…what I need,” John said. What she was doing to him kept taking his breath away, as though it was sucked right out of his mouth every few words. It was cute.

“But what do you need, fire-eater? What do you really need? What do we all really need?” Valorie murmured up the ridge of his cock. Then she pulled herself up until she was sitting on his chest.

“Come on,” he begged. What sounded like annoyance was really just desperation. “Are you shitting me?”

Valorie laughed again, a little wickedly. She let him wonder whether she was going to do for him as she stood. His face was shiny. She could smell herself on him. He brushed some of it away with his rope, but rope wasn’t made for absorption or cleaning. He winced at the roughness against his skin. She thought he might actually cry in anger if she were to deny him. With his history, she almost wanted to see that. But she had mercy on him—mercy he didn’t deserve, but she decided to give it anyway.

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed when she crouched down and began to undo his trousers.

“No, thank me,” she said.

She made a small noise of appreciation when she wrapped her fingers around the shaft and pulled him out. He was a satisfactory size, but even better to her was his heft. His cock pulled to the side under its own weight. The purplish head gleamed from pre-cum, and she polished him with her palm. The cords of John’s neck stood out as she rubbed the lubrication along the length, like a groom rubbing her horse down, until he shone everywhere.

“One of these days, if you’re real nice, I might suck this as well as you sucked me off,” Valorie murmured. “But right now, I need a cock inside of me, and I think yours will do nicely.”

“Whatever I can do to help.” It sounded like his throat had narrowed to the size of a toothpick as he watched her position her cunt above him, the cunt that he’d made so slick with her orgasm and his saliva. She nearly slammed down when he breached the entrance. Valorie forced herself to take it slow, however, to torment him and to get a longer look at his eyes rolling back once more, his teeth clenched, his hands clasped tightly against his chest like a man praying, his whole upper body tense… The man looked possessed, even though he was the one entering her.

Once she’d taken him all in, seated against the base, Valorie groaned, moving her hips in small circles to tug at the tight flesh around his base.

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve been needing. Don’t need to be a demon to do it right. God made this one just as special,” Valorie muttered. It didn’t mean anything, just a moan put into words.

She clamped her knees on his hips, tucking her feet under his thighs so she had some measure of a hold. She squeezed her cunt around him and slapped his damp cheek lightly when he tried to thrust up into her.

“You. Stay still,” she said over his agonized groan. “I’m going to give you what you want. You don’t get to take it. I’m not even making you do any work, and you’ll get to shoot up all inside me, no rubber, so stop your grousing.”

“Fuck, you’re a dirty girl,” he said.

“You have no idea,” Valorie replied.

She didn’t squeeze or do anything else with her hips over his cock anymore as she began to untie his wrists.

“I don’t care about being tied up,” John said, pleading with his eyes. “I just want…”

“It’s not about what you want,” Valorie said. “It’s about what I give you, boy, and I’m giving you a small bit of freedom so you can play with my tits as I take you. Or hold on to my waist. Whatever strikes your fancy, as long as I’m still the one riding you and not the other way around.”

It didn’t take long. As soon as his wrists were free—there was some blood, but he didn’t seem to notice it—he pushed himself sitting only for Valorie to tighten her muscles around his cock again and point him back down.

This could be it. Valorie was devious, more experienced, older, certainly more flexible, not averse to fighting dirty, but he had strength on her. If he decided that he wanted to do it his way, there was nothing she could do to stop him except attempt to bash his head against the coffee table or the floor, which she wasn’t going to do. And Bell wouldn’t come running, because she’d be enjoying herself. There was no denying that the image in her head of a big, strong, athletic man over her, being the top, pumping powerfully into her, was appealing. It wasn’t what she wanted tonight, certainly not from John, but she wouldn’t say no if he insisted.

But she wouldn’t let there be a second chance if he broke faith now. He could choke his chicken for the next year and a half for all she cared. He’d come into Arcanium with the trust completely obliterated, especially when it came to sex. He could have languished for far more years than this if he hadn’t had the good fortune of one of the human women of Arcanium needing to get laid.

He wasn’t going to take her against her will either way, but he could make this about power, and that was the same thing that had gotten him here in the first place.

John panted as she tightened herself around him, as much like a vise as a slippery orifice could be. His hips twitched on their own. She could practically see the internal struggle.

Take or accept.

He slowly lowered himself back on his elbows then lay down on the floor again.

“There’s my boy,” she whispered, leaning down and stroking his chest. It had a few burn marks too, as though he’d been hit with a drop or five of boiling water on his shoulders and chest, but they weren’t as extensive as the scars on his face and hands. His skin felt like skin instead of warm, dried wax, and she enjoyed kneading the muscles that he’d cultivated after years of sports training. As soon as he slid his hands up to her waist she began to move over him, lifting her hips even as she kept the rest of her upper half almost steady.

When she was done exploring his chest, her cunt revved up again like a revived motor at the shallow strokes of his cock she gave herself. She propped herself back up, using gravity’s help to grind down.

As she bounced, her small breasts jiggled. He brought his hands up her ribs when she really started to ride him so that he could stroke the pert nipples with his thumbs. He didn’t cup them, didn’t stop her breasts from moving—and when she really started bobbing over him, the jiggling began to ache pleasantly and unpleasantly at the same time. The undersides hit his palms with light slaps, and in the meantime he made her nipples ache pleasantly and unpleasantly too. She was so sensitive there. She’d never known whether it was because they were small or whether it was just her, but she was used to them hurting and practically zinging with arousal that shot straight down between her legs. It meant he was doing something right, her nipples tightening until they were hard little pebbles under his thumbs.

Two could play at that game.

Actually, she doubted playing with his nips and pecs would get her the same kinds of reactions, but she could still squeeze her cunt muscles around him off-rhythm to her pace and the natural contractions like flutters on his cock. It wasn’t right that she was the one who wanted to scream when he was the one who’d been without sex for so much longer.

His hands started grasping. His breath became ragged, and he pounded his heels on the floor. His teeth were gritted against any sound, almost as though he didn’t want to give her that, didn’t want her to reduce him anymore. But she wouldn’t have it.

Valorie leaned back, grabbing his still leather-clad thighs, and rode him at an angle that was tighter on him and pulled her folds back from her clit. That was where she brought one hand now, stroking herself furiously above and around but never directly on. Sometimes her fingers slid down to where he split her, which he had to see even better than her, given the way he was unable to tear his gaze away.

The ends of her hair tickled her shoulders and arms as she let her head fall back, focusing all her power, strength and speed on the movement of her hips and her hand.

“Oh God.” Each word wrenched out of him. “Oh God. Oh God. Fuck!”

His hips snapped up, but she could forgive him the lapse, because he slickened her further as his cock jerked. It seemed to go on forever. He’d probably expelled more than his share of seed into his hand all this time, but something had been held back. That something let loose now, over and over until he practically screamed with each pulse of it inside her.

It was messy, wet and exhilarating, knowing that she was the one who had cut the thread that finally let him come, really come, freeing him for a time from the cumulative effect of the sex demons’ magic.

And it kept him hard and hot for her while she drove herself to her second climax, using his cock while he cried out and bucked on the floor, holding on to her hips like a life raft.

When he’d released her and gone limp, she was almost concerned that he’d screwed himself into unconsciousness. He probably hadn’t even known how sexually tense he was after a while.

But John stared up at her, his eyes hooded as she brought herself down from her own high.

“Was it worth it?” she asked, crossing her arms on his chest and resting her chin on her forearms to stare down at him.

“Did I melt inside you?” John asked. “I’m pretty sure I actually started turning into a liquid.”

“We’ll figure that out when I let your cock out of me,” she said, grinning. “But you seem solid enough to me—more or less. Want a drink?” She could reach the fridge from where they lay, but she eased him out of her and stood, heedless of the wetness trickling down her thigh.

He sat up and accepted the open bottle of beer that she gave him.

As she knelt at his feet to undo the ropes there, Valorie started giggling madly.

“What?” John asked, cautiously insolent.

“Now it looks like you’ve been fucking a cinnamon bun instead of pie.”

He took in the sight of his cock, softening and covered with her juices and a considerable amount of his own semen.

His embarrassed, crooked grin was made more appealing by straight, white teeth. All-American, this one, in many ways—bad as well as good—but no denying the charm when he wasn’t being a grade A enema. There might be hope for him yet.

“I’ll let you have the shower first,” she said. “I’m dripping, but you’ve got a little…me on your face. And a lot of me and you on your dick.”

“I’m damn sure I had a lot of you on my face,” John said.

She slapped his bare ass before he could pull up his trousers.

“Once I’m out, though, I expect to see you gone,” Valorie said, taking a swig of her own beer. “I don’t keep pets in my bed, and I need my beauty sleep.”

“Pretty sure you don’t,” he muttered.

But he didn’t protest as he ducked into the small but manageably sized bathroom and closed the door.