Page 14 of Boneyard HEA

I will put her out of her misery and lower myself to both knees behind her.

My come has trickled down her inner thighs. My claiming of her. When we lock her away it can stay on her.

She can beg me for a shower or stay filthy.

“Ready?” I ask her.

After a sharp inhalation, she shivers.

What does she think I’m about to do? Stick some of Tomás’s needles in her pussy?

I switch on the small black vibe, push it between her parted thighs, and apply it to her clit. At the first touch, with the hum echoing in her flesh, she squeaks and tries to raise her head.

Tomás holds her down, of course.

I’m grinning at the stark signs of arousal she’s started to make. The small gasps and moans, the rhythmic tensing of her muscles, and the way her back moves as she strives to wriggle.

“I love fucking with your head as much as hurting you.” Then I bite one side of her ass and press the device deeper into the slush of her arousal and my come. She squirms on it, moaning, bucking a little, with her eyelids fluttering. Her gaping mouth twitches as she tries to close it, shining with spider-gag steel and spit.

“Degradation.” I sigh dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not into shit or piss play. I’d get you to beg but…” I shrug. Should’ve grabbed the giant ass-plug though. Next time.

Tomás screws his hand tighter into her hair, and I turn up the setting, the throb boring into her as she sobs and humps the vibe. Then I insert three fingers into her, formed into a cone so I can really stretch her.

And she starts to orgasm immediately, her intimate muscles spasming down on me.

Perfect fucking ending to a morning, almost.

“Let’s see if we can get one more out of you,” I murmur to the woman currently gasping in a puddle of her own spit while Tomás teases her and bites along her side.

I get another from her, then another, before I am satisfied. When untied from the chair, she flops in a heap on her stomach and lies moaning and panting on the floor.

Still cuffed. Still mine.

I poke her with my foot. “The cage for you, now. Lucy won’t mind lending it to you.”

It’s not Lucy’s cage, but Juniper won’t know that.

Tomás begins to untie the remains of the rope.

We half carry, half drag her out into the foyer, and down the hallway, with her feet barely doing anything at first. Eventually, she stumbles to her feet and walks the rest of the way to a back room, stands swaying before the cage as Tomás opens it.

“Want to shower before you go in?” The space is only half as high as she is, so she’ll have to crawl, and there’s a mattress and a bowl of water. Tomás tosses the keys to the cuffs in his palm.

She gulps and glares at us both. Her stubbornness has resurrected. “Yes.”

“Okay. Say, please, Mr. Loxland, may I have a shower to clean off your come, and the shower is yours.”

“What. No.” Her face contorts as if she holds back some angry words. “No. Just, no.”

“You’ll learn.”

We uncuff her, bundle her into the cage, then lock the cage door. After that we exit and close the door from the hallway. The only light in there comes from a slit of windows just below the ceiling, but I have a cam set up to watch her that has great low light capability.

“Thanks for the help,” I tell Tomás as he pauses in the front door. In the driveway, his black Jaguar gleams in the sun, and Lucy jumps on him and licks him with all her usual enthusiasm. He pats her, smiling, cooing at her.

“You’re spoiling her!”

“She needs it.” He kisses, actually kisses her, on the nose. “You’re sure you don’t need me for more fun with her.” His teeth show as he nods toward where we have Juniper caged.