The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (The Wicked Horse Series) Page 8

  “Look… Callie. Are you prepared for this?” Woolf asks with worry in his eyes.

  I tilt my head and give him a censuring look. “Woolf… I saw my fiancé with a ball gag in his mouth, getting whipped by a woman in vinyl. I didn’t freak out then, so I think I’m good.”

  He just stares at me a moment before giving a resigned nod. “Alright then… let’s go.”

  Woolf takes my hand, which I enjoy very much, and leads me out the back door of The Wicked Horse. There is a path made of slate stone lined with subtle security lights that leads to The Silo, which sits just about twenty yards away. There’s a lone, white door at the base of the massive, concrete structure. We step through it into a short hall that branches left and right, which I assume leads behind the outer ring rooms, and another corridor that leads us out to the center of the building.

  As we walk out into the middle of The Silo, I’m immediately assaulted with information. I’m overwhelmed, trying to process everything.

  I hear music, but not so loud as I can’t hear the murmurs of people talking. Sexy, slow-beat music. I don’t recognize it, but I like it.

  A large, circular bar made of polished chrome, glass, and black lacquer takes up the exact center of the room. A beautiful blonde bartender wearing a low-cut black dress that’s sexy and elegant serves drinks to the members. Several women dressed just like her walk around with trays of finger food, handing them out to hungry patrons.

  The room could hold a hundred people easily, but I estimate there’s only about thirty or so. Some are dressed up like me, others wearing jeans like Woolf, which tells me there’s no formal dress code. The patrons are all varied in age, and most people are paired off into couples. This surprises me as I sort of expected a bunch of single people coming together for a horny good time.

  As if reading my mind, Woolf leans down and murmurs, “Most patrons are in monogamous relationships. Probably thirty percent are married.”

  I quickly take stock of the rest of the decor. Black marbled flooring and contemporary chandeliers in brushed nickel that are dimmed to provide subtle lighting. Other than the bar and the stools surrounding it, there is no other furniture in the massive room.

  And then I focus in on what I truly came to see…the outer ring rooms that provide me with a powerful punch as I take in the floor-to-ceiling glass walls providing unfettered viewing inside. I expect that’s why there’s no furniture, so as to encourage the patrons to move around, look inside the various rooms… almost as if they were at an art gallery.

  And the first room I look into is almost like living art, and my breath catches in my lungs. The room is completely bare except for what looks like a king-sized mattress on a raised dais of black lacquer about a foot off the floor. The mattress is covered in black silk, which seems to melt right into a black platform, which seems to then melt right into the shiny, black marble floor. A naked couple lies on the mattress, their arms and legs intertwined as they kiss. My breath comes out in a wavering gust as I watch the man slide his hand up the woman’s leg, over her hip bone, and reach in between their bodies. Because they are so tightly melded, I can’t actually see what he’s doing to her, but her back arches up off the bed and her eyes squeeze shut as her lips part to let go of what I’m guessing is a moan.

  A surge of… is that lust… courses through me. I have the urge to press my legs together, and I can feel my nipples start to pucker. Holy shit… I’ve hardly seen anything and yet, I’m immediately turned on.

  Woolf places his hand against my lower back and tries to direct me toward the bar, but I can’t disconnect my gaze from the couple on the black silk mattress. It’s not what I expected and because I really can’t see much, it makes me crazy to see more. I walk almost trance-like toward the glass wall, intent on trying to get a gander at something more. I feel itchy and needy, my curiosity now completely having shut down any common sense arguments my brain may have still tried to make to remind me I shouldn’t be here.

  I step up to the glass and in the reflection, I can see Woolf step up behind me. The couple seems completely oblivious as they continue to kiss and fondle each other. I get a flash of his erection and a peek at her boob, but right now, they are still wrapped tight.

  “Can they see us?” I whisper.

  “They can,” Woolf says in an almost strained voice.

  “It’s so… beautiful,” I say reverently, and then I let out a small gasp as the man pushes himself up, revealing himself to me. He’s beautifully lean and tan, and his erection sticks up from his pelvis, wetness shining at the tip. I stare at it in fascination… the second penis I’ve seen in my lifetime, having of course only been privy to Will’s before.

  The woman spreads her legs and raises her knees. I’ve seen my vagina plenty of times, but hers is completely bald and that fascinates me to no end. I’ve thought about doing that before but then figured… why go through the pain for Will to just pound away for a few moments before rolling off and going to sleep?

  The man wraps his hand around the base of his shaft and with one arm supporting his weight, he feeds it into her. I hold my breath as I watch it disappear, trying to ignore the twinges I’m feeling between my own legs. I seem to have a hard time with my breathing, actually forgetting to suck in oxygen as I watch his hips start undulating against her, and she starts moving to match his thrusts. It’s a lazy type of sex where neither looks in a rush to get off. They move together perfectly and I see they’re both wearing wedding rings, so they are harmonious in more ways than one.

  It’s live porn, and I totally underestimated the effect it would have on me. I totally didn’t think it would make me want to drop my hand down my panties and get myself off.

  “Let’s go get a drink,” Woolf says roughly as he takes my elbow and turns me toward the bar.

  I almost capitulate.

  Almost.

  But then I make the mistake of looking at what’s going on in the next room, and I gasp in astonishment. Maybe… one, two, three, four, five, six… seven, eight… nine people in there. All naked and having sex.

  Pulling free of Woolf, I walk up to the glass. I can feel his presence right behind me again… can feel the tension vibrating off him.

  Looking inside, it’s like nothing I could have ever imagined in my wildest dream.

  One couple fucking up against the wall, the man driving hard and deep into her while her legs are wrapped around his waist. His ass muscles clench tightly on every inward thrust, and damn… that’s so sexy.

  Another couple with the woman bent over a large ottoman with the man thrusting in and out of her from behind.

  Another couple in a chair, him on the bottom, her reverse cowgirl on the top, her breasts bouncing up and down while her head is tilted back in ecstasy.

  And my breath hitches when I see a woman with two men, and I fully realize how naive and sheltered I’ve been. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible. One man lying on his back on a flat, padded bench. The woman straddling his pelvis, leaning over him and holding perfectly still. He thrusts up into her vagina from below, while at the same exact time, another man is behind her… fucking her in her ass.

  “Oh, wow,” I whisper as I laser my eyes onto the threesome. I feel a rush of wetness seep out of me, soaking my panties, and I have a sudden, unyielding need to do something… anything. Something dirty. What would happen if I put my hand between my legs? Or took Woolf’s hand and stuck it there?

  My hands open and close into tight fists while I watch both men pound and hammer at the woman, who is now shrieking in ecstasy. My breath becomes labored, and I shift from foot to foot as I watch. I forget about Woolf behind me and the other people having drinks and making small talk. I forget about the other people having sex all around, and I watch as one woman takes two men at the same time, and I wonder… could I do that?

  The man on his back sticks a hand in between the woman’s legs, rubbing at her clit. She cries out, her muscles tightening everywhere, and she starts t
o shake as she has an orgasm. A tiny moan slips out of my lips in response.

  “Christ,” I hear Woolf curse, and then he’s got my wrist latched into his strong hand and he’s pulling me away from the window.

  “Hey—” I protest, but he pulls me along roughly behind him.

  Back down the short hallway and out the door that we originally came in.

  “Woolf,” I say in anger. “I wasn’t ready to leave.”

  I expect him to pull me straight back toward The Wicked Horse but instead, as soon as we clear the door and it shuts behind us, his hands are on my shoulders and he pushes me back hard into the concrete wall of The Silo. The only thing that prevents my head from hitting the wall is his hand behind it as he crushes his mouth down on mine. He lets out a deep groan as our tongues meet and his other hand comes to my breast, squeezing it gently through the flimsy material of my dress and then pinching my nipple hard.

  “Woolf,” I cry out in pleasure as I pull my mouth away from his for a brief moment.

  His hand falls away from my breast and I think he thinks he hurt me, but it immediately drops down to my dress and he starts to haul it up as he kisses me again.

  Cool air hits my legs, which nearly buckle as his hand snakes down the front of my panties. He does nothing more than rub two fingers back and forth between my legs, and I’m almost embarrassed at how easy they glide because of how wet I am.

  Woolf’s face pulls back slightly, and he looks down at me with menacing eyes that glitter with full-blown lust. “I’m going to fuck you, Callie. You’re so wet and ready right now, and I know you need it. God help me… I fucking need it too.”

  Chapter 9

  Woolf

  I’m going to hell.

  I’m going to hell.

  I’m going to hell.

  I don’t fucking care.

  I wait just a moment to see if Callie’s going to fight me on this but instead, she ends up tilting her hips against my hand, silently demanding more.

  Pulling away from her, I immediately start working at my belt buckle. I am frantic with the need to get inside of her, having never felt hornier in my entire life. I’ve seen threesomes more times than I care to count. Hell, participated in them too. And yeah, they’re a turn on, no doubt.

  But watching Callie watch that ménage?

  It was the most sensually erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life. It put everything I’ve ever seen in The Silo to shame. Her breathing became ragged, she clutched her fists tight, and her skin flushed pink. I watched her lick at her bottom lip while her eyes glazed over, and I knew… she was wondering what that would feel like. What it would feel like to have two men possess her.

  Fill her.

  Worship her.

  But little Callie Hayes didn’t just want to know. I’m betting she needs to know.

  Unfortunately, there’s just me right now but I know I can scratch her itch. I know I should be stopping myself and walking away, but that’s impossible right now. Because even as much as I’d like to think this is an altruistic move for Callie, I’m doing this for myself too. It’s been eleven fucking years I’ve fantasized about this woman.

  A woman I should not have a problem walking away from. I’ve done it twice already after I fingered her to orgasm, but to her detriment—or benefit, who knows—she ended up crossing a line. The minute she demanded that I take her to The Silo, she became fair game. Because in that moment, my conscience had already decided to accept the fact that Callie may have a little naughty in her and I just needed to stop thinking of her as a virginally sweet innocent.

  In fact, I think I’ll test my theory right now as my belt swings free of the buckle. “Get your panties off,” I tell her gruffly as I lift my face for a moment.

  Her eyes are pinned to my hands working at my belt with an eager and expectant look. Fuck… I didn’t think it was possible to get harder, but my cock seems to swell further with a need to show off its size to her.

  “Callie,” I growl at her. She jumps and her eyes fly to mine. “Panties off. Right now.”

  She looks left, and then right. It’s dark outside, and there’s no exterior lighting other than the lights along the path between the two buildings. “Someone might see us,” she says in a hesitant voice.

  I lunge at her and she takes a step back, right into the concrete wall. Dropping to my knees, I push the bottom of her dress up until it’s bunched around her waist. Luckily, the material is stretchy and form fitting, which is something I definitely noticed when the vixen showed up at my office door not ten minutes ago.

  Jesus… in ten minutes, I’ve gone from resolve to showing her around to pulling her outside so I can fuck her up against a wall.

  She’s got on a pair of white lace panties that I’d love to tear off her but that only works in the movies I think and besides… I don’t want to have the material bite into that smooth, delicate skin. Hooking my fingers in the waistband, I pull them swiftly down her legs. I smile when she lifts one foot and I pull the panties free, letting them drop and pool around her opposite ankle. And then I’m staring at her gorgeous pussy, and I can’t help myself. I grab her hips and pull her to my mouth, running my tongue up her center just once.

  Callie’s hands slam onto my head and grip my hair as she lets out the sweetest cry of stunned pleasure I’ve ever heard. I could sit here and lick this woman for hours to hear that again and again, but we are on borrowed time. Someone’s bound to come out of The Silo sooner or later.

  Standing up quickly, I dislodge Callie’s hands from my head where they come to rest on my shoulders. I unbutton my fly with a hard tug, and Callie tilts her head down to watch. My cock jumps like a bull getting ready to come out of a rodeo shoot.

  “Take it out,” I order her gruffly. Her eyes snap up to mine, looking confused.

  I close my hands over the tops of hers, pushing them off my shoulders and downward. When her fingers brush against the top of the waistband of my boxers, I tell her a little rougher, “Take it out.”

  She gives a whispering sigh, and her fingers slowly sink under the elastic edge. The first brush of her against me is intense, and I have to suppress a shout of relief and gratitude. She’s not hesitant in the slightest, wrapping one hand around my cock and pushing down at my jeans with the other. I help her out a little, pushing down at the material with my hands until I’m fully exposed and sitting hot and heavy in her grip.

  I lean forward, placing both of my hands against the concrete wall on either side of her head. Brushing my lips at her temple, I whisper, “Squeeze it, Callie. And don’t be gentle.”

  Her breath gushes out and she squeezes me, rubbing her thumb over the tip and smearing the pre-cum that’s leaking out. And Christ… such a simple move shouldn’t feel that good. I’m almost afraid of what it’s going to do to me when I’m sunk balls deep inside of her.

  I move a hand to the back of her head, grab a big chunk of her hair, and pull on it until her head tilts back. Her eyes are clouded with lust, and she licks at her lips again while her breath comes out in short pants. I kiss her softly even though every hormone in my body is demanding I go hard. I kiss her gently so I can hopefully get my racing heart under control.

  Her hand moves up and down on my dick, and it only takes two strokes and my hips are pumping against her touch, seeking and then demanding more. And while letting Callie Hayes jerk me off is indeed a nice idea, it’s not as great as fucking her. And like I told her just a few moments ago, I do intend to fuck her.

  Speaking of which…

  “Hold on,” is all the warning I give her when I reach down and grasp her under her ass, lifting her up. Good girl that she is she doesn’t even let her hold of me go, but she does bring her free hand to my shoulder to steady herself. I lift her up higher, pull her in closer, and then start to let her settle. She instinctively guides the end of my cock right to her hot, wet entrance and at the first touch against that beautiful place of pleasure, I hiss through my teeth.

  This
is going to be a brutal fucking. I can already tell that there will be no holding back.

  “You’re too big,” she pants out as I push just a fraction of an inch into her.

  “Damn right I am,” I huff out as I tilt my head and graze my teeth along her neck. “But it’s going to feel good… promise.”

  She seems to accept me at face value because she releases her hold on me, brings that hand to my opposite shoulder, and gives a tentative circle of her hips. I slip in just a little further.

  Callie is so fucking tight, and I’d like to imagine this is how her virginal body would have felt to me eleven years ago. Although my need to invade her swiftly is almost painful, I take tiny stabs into her body. Inch in, inch out. Working my way in increments, letting her body adjust to me. Callie helps me along by undulating and circling against me.

  My face tilts forward until my forehead is pressed against hers. Our breaths mingle with each other’s, ragged and heavy. My fingers press into the muscles of her ass, and I bite down on my lower lip hard to center myself for a moment. Otherwise, I might slam into her.

  Callie moans as I work in a little deeper. Her body grips me like a glove. Feels better than any other pussy I’ve ever fucked, and I’m not even all the way in.

  “Woolf?” Callie says in a hoarse voice.

  “Mmmmm?”

  “Please,” she gasps as I push in a bit more.