Dragon's Lair (3 page)

“It isn’t right—”

Philippe swallowed her protest with a drugging kiss. It was aggressive and bold. His lips claimed hers, tugging with his teeth, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue delving between her lips, mimicking the thrust of his hips as he ground his raging hard-on against her. “Let me touch you,
cher.
I want to feel your skin against mine, to hear you cry my name when I make you come,” he whispered hotly.

Lilly wanted to say no, but she simply couldn’t speak. She was caught up in a maelstrom of heat as his hands stroked her breasts through the thin fabric of her toga. She felt him pressing against her and couldn’t quite fathom that a cock could be that big. The size of it was stunning. Her good intentions hadn’t fled entirely, but they were struggling against the sensual onslaught. Her already taut nipples were teased into hardened buds that all but begged for the heat of his mouth. As if he’d heard her thoughts, he dipped his head and closed his mouth over one peak. The rasp of his tongue through the silk and the scrape of teeth followed by the hot pull as he suckled that bud deep into the recesses of his mouth had her screaming. Her hands fisted in his hair, and her hips rocked instinctively against him, seeking release.

Philippe’s smile as he took her other nipple into his mouth was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. When his lips closed around her other nipple, repeating the exquisite torture he’d visited on its twin, she thought the pleasure would drive her over the edge.

He would have her. Within minutes, he would be sinking balls deep into the liquid heat of her pussy. He groaned at the thought, the sound humming over her engorged nipple, making her shiver. He lifted her onto the counter and spread her thighs. As his mouth played over her breasts, he slid his hand over her inner thigh, past the thin barrier of her panties to the soft nest of curls. She was trimmed but not shaved, and he loved it. He brushed his hands over those damp curls before slipping one finger between the slick folds. He flicked the hard bud of her clit, and she arched back, his name falling from her lips. He had to grit his teeth to keep from coming.

Philippe shifted her on the counter, pulling her to the edge for better access to her most secret depths. A coffee mug fell to the floor, shattering. The mood shattered as well as she pulled away from him.

“No!” Lilly said. “I can’t do this. I work for Remy, and even if he is okay with you taking lovers, I wouldn’t feel right about it. It would only make things more complicated.”

Philippe bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to shout. He wanted to jerk her thighs apart and bury his cock inside her anyway. But he wouldn’t. No matter how his physical desires raged, he would never take a woman against her will. Well, not unless it had been prearranged as part of their play and the lack of consent was merely for the sake of fantasy. He stepped back to allow her to slide from the counter, but immediately thought better of it. Broken glass littered the floor, and her feet were bare. He swept her into his arms and strode toward the other room.

“You’ll cut your feet,” he said gruffly as he carried her to the couch.

Lilly didn’t know what to think. She was more confused than she had ever been in her life. She heard the door click shut behind him and dropped her head into her hands. Her behavior was completely out of character, but more than that, she regretted stopping him. Every instinct she possessed demanded she run to the door and call him back. When the engine of the car revved and she heard the crunch of tires on gravel, she knew it was too late. “What have I gotten myself into?” she muttered aloud.

Chapter Two

Lilly walked toward the bar, carrying a silver tray. Her breasts swayed loosely beneath the silk toga, and as she passed over the air conditioning vent, the garment fluttered up, revealing one ivory globe of her sweet ass and the bit of lace that she wore beneath. Remy reclined on the chaise, crossing his legs at the ankle. The bulge of his cock was obvious, and he made no move to hide it. He wanted her to see.

It was her second weekend at the club. The first had been a rousing success. She had worked hard, seen to the customers, and been utterly professional and unflappable even in the midst of things that had caused even Philippe to raise an eyebrow. She had not, however, taken Philippe up on his offer. Remy smiled as he thought of Philippe’s grudging admission that Lilly had turned him down, even after his famous foot massage. His smiled faded when he recalled that she had turned him down as well. Their brief interlude in the storage room had been the first indication that Lilly, in spite of her apparent softness, had a will of iron. For Remy that only cemented the fact that she was the one. Every night she worked at the club, Philippe would drive her home. She would allow him to see her to the door, but never allowed him to go any farther. He’d allowed it to go on so long because it had amused him to see Philippe so befuddled by her. But his own desires were beginning to rage more hotly than was comfortable. It was time the farce ended. He had decided that they would claim her that night.

Philippe entered the club then, having locked the door. Patrons could exit, but not return. It was that time of night, or morning to be more precise. Remy watched him stroll across the lounge, noting the play of muscle in his thighs as he moved. Philippe was the embodiment of power—tall and strong with muscles that rippled and flexed with every move. He was a fierce fighter and could be both ruthless and merciless. That only made it sweeter when he submitted. Frustrated by Lilly’s apparent virtue, Remy was on edge. Some rough play was precisely what they both needed to regain perspective.

“Everything is locked up tight,” Philippe said as he entered the alcove where Remy awaited him. “The club is emptying out. I expect the stragglers to leave before the hour is up.”

“Did I give you to permission speak?” Remy said. His voice was cold, but he knew there was no disguising the fire in his eyes. Someone else might have thought Remy was genuinely angry, but the game was familiar to them both, and he knew Philippe would respond accordingly. A hint of resistance was required to make it more interesting. When Philippe did speak, his voice was low and husky, revealing the desire that burned inside him. It fanned the flames of Remy’s own desire.

“No, Master Remy, you did not.”

Remy pointed to the floor. “On your knees. Crawl to me.”

Philippe dropped to his knees and, on all fours, approached the chaise. Had he been a true submissive, meek and obedient to Remy, his eyes would have been downcast. But he was not. Even on his knees, his head was held high, proud, and his eyes never left the bulging cock that strained against Remy’s well tailored pants.

Remy reached out, tangling his hands in Philippe’s long hair, dragging it free from its restraints so that it fell in wild disarray over his massive shoulders. “Suck my cock.”

Philippe reached for Remy’s belt, but Remy halted him, meeting his questioning gaze.

“Yes, master?”

“I did not tell you to remove clothes. I told you to suck my cock.”

It was a ploy, designed to prolong the pleasure for both of them. Dutifully, even eagerly, Philippe rose to his knees and leaned forward, his hot mouth closing over the head of Remy’s cock through the fabric. The texture was rough on his tongue, the zipper abrading his lips. Even then, he could smell the musk of Remy’s need and feel the heat of him. Philippe’s own cock had hardened to the point of agony, strangled as it was behind the fly of his jeans.

Remy’s hand tightened in Philippe’s hair, tugging painfully. Philippe’s cock had hardened to the point of pain. He was so hot, so desperate to come, but unwilling to let the play end so soon. With another tug of his hair, Remy pulled Philippe’s mouth from him.

“You’re very good at that. How many cocks have you sucked?”

There was one way to increase the intensity of their play. Resistance always made it better. Philippe quirked his eyebrow in a direct challenge before he replied, “Not as many as you.”

God, he loved Philippe, Remy thought. No one played with him the way that Philippe would. “You will have to be punished for your insolence. Strip.”

Philippe rose, lifting the black T-shirt from his body, revealing hard muscles covered with a light dusting of golden hair. The tattoo on his arm extended up his shoulder, and then over his back before disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. When they too had been stripped away, the tail of the tribal dragon could be seen curling over his hip and thigh. Philippe’s cock stood proudly at attention, jutting from the nest of burnished, gold curls. It was long and agonizingly thick. When Philippe played the Dom in their little games and slid that monstrous cock into the tight ring of Remy’s ass, it was an exquisite combination of pleasure and pain. At that moment, Remy almost wished they had chosen the other route for that night, but it was too late now.

“I don’t think my bare hand will do for your discipline tonight. I think I need my paddle.”

Remy pressed the button on the wall that would signal for Lilly to come over. Watching her for the past few weekends had been torture. Waiting for Lilly, with her bouncing breasts and sweetly curved ass, to come around had nearly driven them both mad with lust. Perhaps pushing her a bit further was the answer. Under normal circumstances, he would have turned Philippe to face the wall, planting his hands on it with his legs spread as he waited for his punishment. He chose not to. He wanted her to see Philippe’s cock, to smell her when her pussy grew damp at the sight.

* * * * *

Lilly glanced at the light board placed discreetly behind the bar. Remy never called for her. If he wanted a drink, he would typically get it for himself. Worried that there was a problem, she crossed the now empty expanse of the club until she reached their small alcove. Her breath caught and her step faltered as she passed through the gauzy curtain. Philippe stood naked before her. She had never seen anything as magnificent as his gloriously naked body. He was perfect in every way. Her eyes traveled over the broad expanse of his shoulders and chest, down to where his cock strained and pulsed. It was thicker than her wrist and had to be more than ten inches in length. Even on his massive frame, it looked gargantuan. Her pussy wept for it immediately.

Every night, since her first night at the club, she had gone back to her lonely apartment and had pleasured herself with the vibrator she had purchased. She had regretted a dozen times over that she had turned him down, even though in her heart of hearts, she still knew it was the right choice. She’d been equally tormented by the blazing kiss she’d shared with Remy only the day before. He’d cornered her in the storage room, hot and predatory. It only made him more appealing. He’d claimed her mouth in a staggering kiss, his hands toying with her breasts. Had it not been for the first patrons arriving, she might have given in right there.

Still, every night, while she’d masturbated and fucked herself with that bit of battery powered heaven, she had fantasized about them, how they would look together. She had even tried to envision what it would look like to be between them, braving the dangerous waters of internet pornography to find videos of “threesomes”. She’d waded through tons of them, most of them featuring women together, until she’d found a select few that showed her a woman being pleasured by two men. Even those didn’t compare to what she was seeing. Because unlike the men in the videos who never touched one another, Philippe and Remy were apparently more than willing to pleasure one another as well.

“Thank you, Lilly,” Remy said as he handed her a small numbered key. “Bring our toy chest, if you would.”

Lilly looked down at the key in her hand and, unable to speak, nodded. As she walked toward the locker room, she felt the familiar dampness gathering between her legs. There was no disguising the hardness of her nipples as her breasts bounced and swayed under her toga, thrilling at the sensual abrasion of the silk. Retrieving the chest, she couldn’t help but wonder what was in it. Since taking the job at the club, she’d seen every manner of device imaginable. She had seen giant dildos made from wood, glass, marble, and one patron had even brought one in carved from ice. She’d seen vibrators in every shape and size imaginable; restraints made from silk, satin, leather, velvet, and even the clichéd fuzzy handcuffs had been paraded out. She’d watched patrons spank one another with paddles, whips, belts, switches, their bare hands, and she’d even watched one man whip his lover with his cock. What secrets were buried in Remy’s treasure chest, she wondered.

* * * * *

Remy walked over to Philippe and, reaching out, stroked his fingertips lightly over the prominent veins of Philippe’s swollen cock. He smiled, breaking character for a moment, as he whispered in Philippe’s ear, “If seeing this monster doesn’t make her give in, nothing will. You could tempt a saint with that thing.”

With the breech in character, Philippe did what he had wanted to all night. He grasped the back of Remy’s neck and pulled him in for a searing kiss. Their lips met, tongues tangling together. He knew that Remy loved the feel of his beard, and he moved the bristly hair over the other man’s cheek as he delved his tongue into the spicy heat of Remy’s mouth. When he broke the kiss, he said, “We’ll have her tonight.” Glancing out at the club, which was now completely deserted save for the bartender who was cleaning up, he continued. “You should ask her to watch my punishment. Our Lilly has a tender heart.”