“Good girl.” Ares shoves his fingers in my mouth, so far back I almost choke, pumping them in and out and coating them thoroughly with my saliva. I’m gasping for breath when he pulls them out, and then again when he grabs my hips and pushes me forward, positioning my ass where he wants it. He shoves his fingers inside my puckered hole. It burns. I cry out, and horse-man turns his head toward me.
Ares’ movements are rash and unapologetic. He brutalizes me in the best way possible, and I cry out for more. With a stranger watching me watch him, I come against my Sir’s hands, and I love every second of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Pet
“Will you . . . willyou do that to me?” I ask, staring up at Ares from my position at his feet.
“Dress you up like a horse and whip you as you gallop around a track? No, Pet. Animal play isn’t my thing. If you like, I can loan you out to Texas. He’s big on horsing around.” He winks, and I stare, unable to take my eyes off him.A joke? Ares makes jokes? I wouldn’t have thought that was even possible. “What?” he says with a frown.
“N-nothing. And please, please don’t give me to Texas. I’m yours.”
His mouth tips up in a grin. “I know.”
“I only meant, Sir . . .”
He slides his hand around my neck and squeezes. His grasp isn’t crushing or brutal—it’s a tender display of dominance, and my pussy clenches as desire tingles through my body. “I know what you meant, Pet.”
“Please, please don’t give me to Texas. I don’t even like horses,” I say. My face falls abruptly when realization dawns that I don’t even know if that’s true. I can’t know, because I don’t remember.
Ares’ hand leaves my throat, and he brushes his knuckles over my cheek. The other Masters all watch us. Including Hermes, who stands by the outdoor bar, nursing a drink as if it were a woman he was making love to. I meet his black gaze and glance away, swallowing hard.
Ares grips my hair, pulling it back from my face and I turn and nuzzle into his knee, looking up at him instead of at Hermes, or at the slaves who’re whipped as they race around the track. He pats the side of my cheek, and leans forward, running his hand down my throat to tug on the nipple clamps, which of course jerks on the little wicked clip at my clit. I bite my lip, and he runs his thumb over it, snagging my flesh from the clutches of my teeth. He plunges his thumb into my mouth. I suck, rolling my tongue around it. He raises a brow, but his eyes are lustful, playful. He unfastens his fly, and shifts, pulling out his thick erection. His cock is long and a dusky rose color. His head is flush against his hard stomach and leaking pre-cum.
“Suck it.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, my arousal seeping through my words. I shift so my back is facing the race. I tuck my hair behind my ears. Ares clutches it tightly in his fist.
“Let me get that for you.” he says with a smile playing on his lips. I move my arm to grab his shaft, but he catches it up in his hand. “Uh, uh, uh. Hands behind your back.”
I resist the urge to pout and fold my arms behind my back in the box position. This pushes out my breasts, and as I lean over to take him in my mouth, the chains dangling from my nipple clamps brush Ares’ knees. He pulls one. Pleasure arcs between my breasts and my pussy. Ares holds the base of his cock and I open my mouth and lower myself onto it, sucking him hard. He groans, and thrusts his hips up to meet me, choking me in the process.
I fight my gag reflex, ignore the burning in my throat, and make myself open to him, or as open as my mouth will allow. My facial features are fine, delicate, and certainly not made for a man his size. I’m amazed he fits at all.
I suck him as deep and fast as I can. His moans are quiet, subdued, but no less arousing. His eyes blaze with lust as he watches me. I know I’m supposed to be a good submissive and keep my gaze cast down at the floor, or at his delicious cock, but the best part of pleasuring Ares is watching those dark eyes glaze over with lust as his grip tightens in my hair.