Jon ignored him. “Dana, take my girl to the edge of the table, where Ben is. You were already working your way there.”
Rachel realized he was right. Their movements had become enthusiastic enough they’d managed to move to within a foot of the edge above their heads. Close to Ben.
“Don’t ever say I don’t do you any favors,” Jon said, and Rachel realized he was talking to Ben. “Tip your head over the table, Rachel, and take his cock.”
“You just want to destroy my concentration, so I don’t win the next hand,” Ben said, but there was a masculine satisfaction to his voice that told her he didn’t object.
Dana had recovered enough to slip an arm around Rachel’s waist and help her adjust. They were close enough to Matt that he reached out and stroked his fingertips down Dana’s flank.
“Very well done,” he murmured, and turned an expression with a similar level of approval toward Rachel. “Your Masters are very fortunate.”
Did they just intuitively know how to pepper moments like this with that kind of reinforcement? With it, those terrible thoughts that sometimes crept into Rachel’s head couldn’t gain a foothold. She wasn’t dirty, twisted, or a slut. She belonged to her Master, and everything she did under his command was an expression of her love and devotion. A response to those same things from him, an ever-strengthening coil that bonded them and made her doubt herself less and less.
However, while her emotional doubts might be at an ebb, she had some worries on the physical side of things. They all knew about Ben’s size, reinforced by Dana’s firsthand knowledge of it, from the night Ben and Peter had shared her. Peter had fulfilled one of his wife’s personal fantasies, to be shared by two men.
Rachel knew how to take Jon in her mouth, give him pleasure, but she wondered if the same skill would be applicable. Her earlier fear, that she might fail to live up to her Master’s expectations of her, started to return. Until she remembered two things. First, Jon’s number one rule. What pleased her, pleased him. What didn’t please her—what hurt her, or made her feel wrong—would never be his desire. Never.
Second, Peter’s admonition. Every man here also considers it his job to take care of you.
She had a desire to succeed, to please and exceed expectations. That was far different from a fear of failure.
She tipped her head over the table’s edge. Ben supported her skull in his large hand, lifted to put a rolled-up towel beneath her neck to cushion it. As she looked up at his face, she saw he was studying her hair, which he gathered up, stroked, and then let it spill over the table’s edge.
“Gorgeous,” he muttered. Opening his jeans, he reached into a snug pair of black boxers and scooped out an organ that had Rachel blinking. Secondhand information was different from being close enough to see what had been pressing against straining fabric. Really close. Holy Goddess.
“Just do the best you can, darlin’,” Ben advised, amusement in his voice, but a hunger as well. When her gaze flicked up to his emerald green eyes, she moistened her lips at what she saw there. He liked her being a little intimidated, but not in the wrong way. It had her heart pounding up high in her chest, especially when he added, “Dana, I want her even more hot and bothered. Get your pussy working on hers again.”
Dana complied instantly. Now that her own climax had occurred, she had her precision back. Her rhythm was unfaltering, the pressure just right. In no more than a few strokes, that renewed contact shot sensation through Rachel, making her lips part eagerly, seeking him.
He was of a mind to tease her first, though, winding his fingers in her hair to gather it up again, then letting it cascade over his cock. He seemed to enjoy feeling and watching the strands glide over his flesh, feather off her cheeks and face, before they fell back over the table or off it.
She closed her eyes, experiencing the other side of that sensation, his fingers stroking her scalp, her face, her neck. Then he was cupping her skull again in a firm grip, and she felt the head of his cock touch her mouth. Her lips opened again, but he stopped there, caressing her mouth with that broad part. Inhaling the musky scent, she also felt the wetness of pre-come on her lips, gratifying evidence of the arousal he’d likely been feeling most of the night, watching her and Dana bring their girl-girl fantasies to life.
“I’m going to push your comfort zone,” he advised, his voice dropping an octave. With her eyes closed, her other senses were enhanced. She heard the beast beneath the civilized surface. “Do you want that?”
She nodded, an answer to the question he asked, and an acceptance of that side of him. Her heart rate accelerated, trepidation and anticipation driving the increased beat.
“Then open your eyes and look at me as I push inside your mouth.”
She raised her lashes, and met his gaze. Just like his voice, his eyes revealed how demanding he could be. The harsh glitter in his eyes, the deepening to the planes of his face, brought a vivid recall of how he’d savored her reaction when he’d spanked her over the ruler strikes.
As he guided himself past her lips and started to push in further, she made a tiny noise of distress, she couldn’t help it. But she wanted to please him, please her Master, and…oh, Goddess.
Dana had paused during Ben’s question, perhaps because Peter had touched her, a signal. Now, though, the woman continued her movement against Rachel, clit against clit, then down lower, Dana pushing harder between her legs and dragging upward, slowly, so slowly as Ben impaled Rachel’s mouth at the same excruciating rate.
Rachel’s hips jerked, and she sought purchase on the mat with grasping hands, since she wouldn’t dare touch him without permission, and wasn’t sure if it was okay to grab hold of Dana.
Ben closed his hands over hers and lifted them to his hips, giving her something to grip. She grasped the flesh inside the loosened hold of his jeans.
“Don’t be afraid to dig your nails in, Rachel. The more it hurts, the better it is.”
Deep. Deeper. Jon had taught her to control her gag reflex, because he was well-endowed enough to go beyond it, but this was even past those limits. Just when she thought she might panic, Ben stopped. She’d had to close her eyes again, no choice, but he didn’t chastise her. Instead, he laid his palm over her heart, fingers framing her nipple on either side.
“Beating like a rabbit,” he observed with satisfaction. “Show me what you can do with those tongue and lips, with your mouth full of cock.”