A Celebration
“When you said celebration—" I broke off with a moan, Ezra's hands on my shoulder digging into muscle and working out tension I'd never even been aware of.
Jonathon had one of my hands in his and was coaching Booker on how to massage it, giving delicate attention to every joint and callous, as Amon and Auguste each treated a leg to this decadent rub down.
"You assumed I meant drinks, music, dancing?" Amon asked.
"She assumed you meant fucking," Ezra answered, stroking his hands down to the base of my spine and making me whimper and pant.
"Yes, that," I said, nodding until Ezra's path returned up to my neck, fingertips kneading gently there.
I smelled a little like Amon, coated in oil that made my skin warm and tingly even where no one touched, but I was missing his notes of a coming thunderstorm. I was thrumming and hot, but the pleasure of being touched this way, stroked and massaged until I was absolutely limp, was too good to interrupt. Even for fucking.
"You will be," Amon said, kissing the back of my knee, one hand moving down to the ankle as the other worked its way thoroughly up to my ass. "When you're well taken care of."
"I was well taken care of long before we stepped into this room. How are you all so good at this?" I murmured, my eyelashes fluttering.
We were upstairs together, in a room I was pretty sure was meant for this purpose entirely. There was a fireplace on either end to keep the vast space warm, and I'd been placed on a padded platform that was the perfect length to stretch out, fingertip to toes. The walls were painted a deep oxblood red, with strange geometric shapes traced in black.
"As if it's some hardship to touch you, mon coeur," Auguste said with a chuckle.
I hummed at that and sighed as Auguste's touch moved up the inside of my thigh toward my sex.
"Getting impatient, vampire?" Amon asked as Auguste stroked the lips of my sex.
"Can you blame me?" Auguste answered. "But it's your house, you can be director if you please."
"Mmm, I suppose I did promise her celebration. Turn her over."
I giggled, remaining limp as five pairs of hands carefully manipulated me onto my back, my legs and arms sprawled comfortably over the platform as the lot of them stared down at me.
"I feel like I'm the buffet," I said, grinning.
"You're certainly dessert," Jonathon said, eyeing me from head to toe.
"Speaking of, Monsieur Thibodeaux has yet to eat. I would be a very ungracious host not to provide him with refreshment, don't you think, little star?" Amon asked.
"Mm, definitely. And I know exactly what to offer," I said, laughing as Ezra tickled my neck. I spread my legs wide, bending my knees up, and watched Auguste's eyes blacken as they dropped to my exposed sex.
Auguste let out a soft growl as Amon moved out of his way, and then he bent, arms wrapping around my hips to drag me to the edge of the platform. He dropped to his knees, mouth at the perfect height. I barely had the chance to catch a gasp of breath before he was licking and lapping gently, nibbling with soft lips and sucking on the crease of my thigh to draw my blood to the surface. The simmering hint of arousal that had lingered through my massage bloomed quickly with every deliberate stroke of his tongue.
Ezra followed up onto the platform at my head, fingers working into my hair to pull pins free, his massage moving up into my scalp. I moaned for the pair of them, Auguste's attention to my pleasure and Ezra's to my comfort.
"This is…oh, this is nice," I said, feeling almost drunk on how relaxed I was.
"Just nice, hm? Book," Ezra prompted.
I moaned as cool, firm lips kissed over one breast, Booker's fingers teasing the other.
Somewhere in the room, a note of music sounded and I twitched, Jonathon stroking a hand down my arm in reassurance. "It's a gramophone. A recording of music, there's only us here."
"Not that I would've minded," I murmured, cupping my free hand over Booker's skull to encourage him to suck a little harder.
"Mmm, but private is nice too, isn't it, wicked girl?" Jonathon said softly.
I nodded, making Ezra's fingers scratch into the roots of my hair. Auguste's hands had me planted firmly for his taking, his tongue just starting to dip inside me.
"Ohhh, Auguste, please," I breathed. "Amon? Amon, tell him to make me come."
Auguste huffed against my sex, and Ezra tugged on my hair. I squirmed, a warm hand passing up my leg over Auguste's shoulder before Amon reappeared at my side.
"I think I'd rather watch them have their way with you," Amon said, smiling as my eyes widened. "Mm, yes. Everyone has their turn, and then I will claim you at the end when you are too weak to boss me around."
I giggled, but the sound cracked on a cry as Booker sucked on a nipple at the same moment Auguste focused on my clit, the two watching each other and organizing their assault on my senses. After the sexual frenzy I'd enjoyed for the past couple of weeks, this slow and languid pace was delicious and drowsy.
"You look like you're half asleep," Jonathon whispered in my ear.