Reddy might decide to help Constantine of his own volition, but if he didn't, I felt sure I could pressure him. Hunter might even volunteer if I told him. In fact, I would absolutely see he did. And as many other friends I might be able to call on. Demon blood might demand this sacrifice from Constantine, but I demanded that he be free. I knew what it was like to be trapped, bound in a way, on a much smaller and more loving scale.
"I will speak to him."
I stroked my hands over his back, up to his throat again, studying the muscles under my touch, Constantine still and patient under my hands.
"I want you free," I said.
His eyes flashed. "And I want you unharmed, safe."
Constantine's throat flexed as I tipped his chin up, lowering my face to hover my mouth over his.
"I'm not giving up on this conversation. But…yes. I have some ideas. Can you control how much your touch affects me?" I asked. Because if either Con or Antin laid a finger on me, I would have a difficult time doing anything other than screaming and begging.
"Not much, but a little," Constantine admitted.
"And how much it affects yourself?"
"Yes, easily," Constantine said, nodding his head.
"Is it like touching yourself?" I asked, squirming with my own curiosity.
Constantine's lips curled up again, his gaze narrowing to slits. "Oh, it's much better."
I stared at him for a moment, holding my breath, before making up my mind. "Show me."
His head tipped. "Show you? Are you taking control now, sweet creature?"
I nearly said "can I?" before catching myself, rising up from the bed. "I am."
On stage, I usually missed the dizzying moment of Constantine splitting into two, and I'd almost forgotten how disorienting it was, as if there were suddenly two realities to choose between. The sensation settled as Con and Antin shifted apart, Con's gaze hungry and cautioning, Antin's crimson hand reaching for me.
"No," I said, the word rare and powerful on my tongue. They both froze in place on the mattress. "Undress each other. Don't...don't use your powers yet."
"Should I call you 'mistress'?" Antin asked, lips quirking.
Part of me wanted to laugh, but heat pooled in my core at the word, and I nodded. "Here. And on stage."
Con's eyes blazed as Antin reached for the buttons of his starched collar, but there was no anger in that fierce stare. No, that was excitement. Blue hands reached forward, and I gasped as Con tore open Antin's tunic, earning him a tut of displeasure from the red demon, who continued in his more careful work. They were as much as opposites as they were part of one another, equal halves of Constantine.
"I feel as though you show me more of Antin than Con when you're whole," I mused as they bared each other's chests. "Stand up."
I moved back and Con glared at me, yanking Antin up from the bed by a hooked grip on his trousers, his long, blue fingers sliding down into the fabric. Antin hissed, but it was in relief, not pain, as his other half took him in hand.
"I am the preferred," Antin said, adding with a smile, "By most, at least."
"I prefer you equally," I said, my eyes fixed to the bobbing fabric of Antin's pants, his red throat flexing, horns arched back.
Antin groaned, and then his fingers made quick work of Con's own buttons, pushing the fabric down dense muscular thighs. "We believe you, but even your body needs more care than it does pain. Trust us, mistress, you are more than generous."
"Antin, show me what it looks like when Con feels pleasure," I said.
Con's eyes widened and Antin's lips grinned, his red hand snapping forward and taking Con's hefty, blue cock in a firm grip. Con had no voice to speak with, but his body said more than enough, tensing and twitching, releasing his grip of Antin in favor of reaching up to red horns, hips bucking forward. His legs trembled and his stomach flexed, ass clenching, a perfect vocabulary of muscle and skin fighting the torment of pleasure.
"He wants your mouth," I noted, watching Con's hands tighten on Antin's horns, trying to force them down.
"Can you blame him?" Antin laughed.
Con's eyes rolled back, cock pounding into the grip of Antin's fingers.
"Stop," I said, and Con's glare turned to me as Antin released him before allowing him to come. I smiled back at my blue pain demon. "It's your turn, Con."
His narrowed eyes flicked toward Antin, and I expected his fury to be as strong and violent as his pleasure, but instead, he only reached up and cupped Antin's face with a gentle touch. It was all he needed to do. Antin didn't scream like I did, but his body tensed and his breath came out in wounded whimpers and anxious pants. His knees folded, sending him kneeling on the floor. Even without lips, I understood the victorious smile in Con's eyes as Antin crumpled forward, his face perfectly poised in front of Con's bare and stiff cock.
Con was taking control.
"No," I snapped harshly as Con started to aim the head of his length at Antin's open mouth. He ignored me for a moment, and Antin moaned around his flesh. "Step back."
Antin pulled away, still moaning in agony, and Con's head thrashed as he dropped his hands to his sides.
Antin gasped for breath, hands braced on his knees and head bowed as I stepped forward to address Con.
"You're not naturally obedient, are you?" I asked, smiling.
Con shook his head, and Antin huffed.
"Lie down on the bed, Con."
He didn't move at first, his stare sharp, the pair of us equally aware that all it would take was for him to grab my wrist and I would be at his mercy completely. Which was why it made me so breathless as he stepped around Antin to spread himself out on the bed, hard cock standing and pleading to be touched. And ohhhh, how I wanted to.
"On your belly," I said.
Con froze, but he didn't look angry at all as he rolled over, adjusting himself, and Antin smiled up at me from the floor.
"Do you… Have you ever…?" I asked, glancing between them.
"What wouldn't you do to yourself, if you had the chance?" Antin asked, grinning.
Not much, I admitted. "Don't use your powers," I said, rounding the bed to sit at the head. If Con stretched, he would be able to reach me, but I wasn't really afraid. He'd behaved so far, more or less, and I liked his horrible touch anyway.
Antin stood, finally shedding his loose linen pants, and then gently pushed Con's legs apart, kneeling between them. He sucked on a finger, and I watched Con twitch as Antin burrowed it between his ass cheeks, just circling and pressing at first. Blue hands clenched at the sheets, Con's hips bucking into the mattress. I wanted to touch him, either of them, pet them and praise them, but I wanted to be lucid even more.
"Be good for me, Con. Relax and show me what you can take."
Con's glare wasn't a glare at all—it was the visual of a growl. One of desire, not temper. Antin hummed in approval as his finger sank into Con's ass.
"Now make him feel you," I said to Antin, who nodded, horns bobbing.
Con's hands clawed at the bed, his body thrashing.
"Another finger," I said, watching his back tense, but Antin was already stretching Con. "I want you to use his ass to your finish."
"He won't be able to control his power," Antin warned me.