Marry The Knight Ch. 14

Paige watched Harley get her man clean, licking up the lingering flecks of cum, a tingle in her own tongue making her hope Harley would let her return the favor next time.

"Jesus, Harley," she muttered, turning around and limping back to the bed as Harley smacked her lips obscenely. "If you like the stuff so much, why don't you get some from the source? With a mouth like that, you could get all you want."

"I could never get all I want," Harley said, almost pouting as Bruce took his cock away. "I could jump in a whole tub of it, have it all over my body, and itstillwouldn't be enough!" She ran her hands down from her cheeks, working her fingers over her body like there was any more cum to find. "Gee, that would be wonderful, having all that hot cum on me..."

"You'd need an army for that." Bruce shook a last dot of cum out onto Harley's face, then returned to the bed. "And I'm no one-man army..." he assured them.

"I wonder what that would be like..." Harley fantasized, lying down in her cage. "Hundreds and hundreds of cocks—shooting all over me."

After she murmured the words, she opened her mouth and slowly ran her tongue up one of the bars of her cell. Eyes closed, she imagined it was a cock, one belonging to a room full of men, their gigantic dicks blowing all over her. It was a nice little dream to have as she rocked herself to sleep.

Before Bruce could lie down beside Paige, though, she spoke haltingly. "Bruce? Baby? Would you hand me a towel? Please? I'm a mess and I just can't... move..."

Bruce turned on his heel, going over to an armoire containing several sets of folded bedding. He removed a towel and tossed it to Paige, who weakly caught it out of the air and wiped herself off.

Bruce was still a bit surprised with himself. Paige Monroe had been the biggest model in the world when he was younger. And he'd fucked her. "Are you alright, dear?" he asked, going to sit down next to her.

Silence across the bed. Bruce took hold of the towel, stopping Paige from using it to wipe off her sweaty, cum-stained body. "Paige? What's wrong?"

Paige could say nothing. Then, as if the flood of emotions had overflowed her mind, she started to sob. Quietly at first, and then louder, until her body started to shake. "No, it won't work,Iwon't work. You're married. You have Ivy and Harley and—how can we be lovers?"

"Paige," Bruce responded. "We just were."

"But I want to love you."

"You just did," Bruce said, more confused than exasperated.

"But what about Harley, and Ivy? They're your wives."

"Of course. And I love them just like I love you."

"And you would really want me when you could have them?"

"I want all of you."

"I don't want to be like Harley, locked in a cage at night—"

"That's what's right for Harley. It's what she likes."

"I couldn't be one of your whores. I'd want you to—really love me. I don't know if anyone's ever really loved me, not just for my looks—they all left when my looks went and now I have them again, you gave them back, but... is that what you want? Just my beauty?"

"I want to make you better. Like I'm trying to be better. We all have damage, but maybe together..." Bruce shook his head. "I don't know. Lately, I've been feeling a kind of peace. Putting Harley in that cage might've seemed cold, but it quiets the voices in her head. And I feel like some of that rest is mine, like the healthier she is, the healthier I am. Does that make any sense?"

"She's a part of you." Paige smiled sadly. "I'd like to be a part of you."

"Then marry me. Let me help you. I've been putting your feelers through my magazine divisions—there are plenty of people who'd love to have you back for a shoot. You could start working again, have a career. Would you like that?"

Paige thought about it, no longer crying. The notion had occurred to her so many times—what would she do if she could have it all back? She knew, on some level, that the stresses and backbiting of the fashion industry were what had damaged her so. But it was her life, her legacy.

"I could be... semi-retired," she ventured, to Bruce's approving gaze. "Do a few spreads for charity. Nothing major. And when I'm not shooting, I can be with you?"

Bruce nodded, reaching for her, caressing her, kissing her. All of a sudden, Paige felt burnt out with emotion. Her head drifted down to Bruce's shoulder, resting against it as she blanked out for a moment.

"I'm so tired..."

"One last thing," Bruce said. He opened up a drawer in his nightstand.

There was a small black box inside.

Paige fell asleep wearing her engagement ring.

***

"Oh, God, Harley—" Ivy sighed, seeing the cage the moment she sauntered into the room. Almost as much as she was exasperated with Harley, she was exasperatedforHarley. It was one thing to leave Harley tied up with organic, all-natural vines, but cold and inhuman bars?

"Don't let me out," Harley whispered to her. "I don't wanna cut in line. I don't want to take your turn."

Ivy looked to the bed. Bruce lay atop the covers, naked, Paige nestled under his arm. She was semiconscious, dozing against his shoulder. Her right hand was wrapped around his cock and she sleepily stroked it. Bruce nudged her wrist with one finger, keep it moving up and down. Making sure she kept him half-hard.

Ivy shocked herself, letting her eyes move greedily up and down his body. He was very muscular, very strong, and she could see his cock, long and fat, on the rise. Ivy blushed as she allowed herself to grow wet, wetter. She wondered if Bruce could smell her cunt. The pungent aroma seemed to fill the room.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" Ivy asked him, knowing damn well why, after how she'd redressed after her encounter with Vicki. Or rather, how little she'd redressed. A reputation for going around naked as Eve in the Garden served to make her motives rather opaque. Maybe she would give him the time of day. Maybe she wouldn't.

"Because I want you to come over here," Bruce said. With his other hand, he stroked Paige's nipples, and Ivy could almost feel herself how sensitive they were becoming.

"Aren't you satisfied yet?"

"Not yet. I want something else."

Ivy shivered. Something in his tone made her remember her first time with him, how many times he had been able to go, all he had wanted her to do. Perhaps he wanted her to suck his cock again. One last time.

"I want a lock on Harley's cage," Ivy said, and Bruce mused. "Two keys. Yours and mine." She smiled. "Maybe a chastity belt too."

"We'd take it off too often for there to be any point in that.

She was ready to go down on him, hungry for his cum. She went to him. Got on the bed, straddling his legs. Reaching down to toss Paige's hand aside and pump Bruce's cock herself, pump it slowly, hold it against the outside of her cunt as she stroked her hand up and down. Her touch full and supple. Not lackadaisical like Paige's had been. She didn't just want him hard. She wanted him to come.

Bruce closed his eyes, pulling Paige closer, satisfied with the feel of Ivy's cunt rubbing against the head of his shaft. Her juice anointing his very tip, spilling down his manhood to whet his appetite. Her hair fell down in front of her eyes, matching the flashes of red she saw as his cock surged against her labia, bigger and harder every time she felt it. She was barely masturbating it now, just holding it against her cunt and feeling its heft, its heat. Bruce reached up and took a handful of red hair, pulling down on it, forcing her to him like a dog on a leash.

Ivy moaned and shifted her weight, lowering her cunt to him—she swallowed his manhood slowly and easily, as he'd intended, and she smiled as each inch penetrated into her. She kept on lowering herself until she had all of him, then she sighed and relaxed, feeling oddly complete with the cheeks of her ass resting on his muscular thighs.

"Growing inside me... like a mighty oak in... fertile soil," she crooned through a smile, only half-pretending. "That's a good mammal—your cock is stiff tonight. Did you like fucking Paige's little pussy?"

"And Harley's," Bruce reminded her. Then he began to rock his hips, handling her weight so easily it was like she was in zero-G. "And yours."

Fucked with his rhythm, penetrated with his rhythm, all she could do was join in. She began to bounce on him, her cunt sliding up and down its weighty intruder. He reached up to grasp her right breast, taking the reins of her, discouraging excess motion with sharp squeezes, holding her to the rhythm he set by dragging her along with her captured tit. Ivy felt the spasms erupting within her body like seeds taking root. She pounced on him even more brutally, slamming her cunt down on his cock, feeling the impact in her clit. Her heart hammered within her chest. Her blood caught fire. She was so light, so light, the lightness that would lead to the thick, leaden pleasure of the afterglow...

The phone on Bruce's nearby work desk rang, jerking Ivy back to reality. She blinked with surprise, feeling unmoored when Bruce's attention shifted from her to look at the caller ID. She expected him to dismiss it. Instead, he rose up from the waist—gently slipping from Paige's sleepy embrace of him, and drew Ivy's calves forward, pushing her feet around to his back. Then he pivoted on his ass, dropping his feet to the floor to stand up. Ivy tightened her legs automatically, staring at him in bewilderment.

With her still impaled on his cock, he walked to the desk, each step jostling his tool inside her. She hugged him tightly, partly from the precariousness of her position—partly from the pleasure. At the phone, he wrapped an arm around the small of her back, stopping her from leaning back to sit on the desk like she tried to do. She pressed her heels against the base of his back, digging them in to pull herself hard against his cock.

"Hello?" Bruce said into the phone, seemingly blissfully ignorant of Ivy rocking against him. "Rufus, hi, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Yes, the offer was serious..."

Nestling the phone against his shoulder, he sat back against the edge of the desk. His hands clasped her hips, holding her to an easy rhythm. He pulled her closer to him as he thrust; pushed her back as he pulled away. She instinctively tried to keep from moaning as he fucked her.

"Paige is very interested in getting back to work. It's very late here and she's in bed, but we were thinking something not too intensive, some kind of charity gig to warm her back up..."

Bruce pushed and pulled, pulled and thrust, showing no more attention to Ivy than if he were doing the dishes. Somehow, his lack of affect just made Ivy burn hotter. She grabbed at his back, trying to force a faster, harder fuck, but his hands tightened on her waist. He held her firmly in place, his cock motionless inside her, as he listened to the phone.

Please, Ivy mouthed.I'll be quiet!

"Yes, that sounds very interesting. Fiji, you say? What can you tell me about the conditions there? She can be a tad fragile, and I'd hate to exacerbate anything she's struggling with." Off Ivy's desperation, he arched his hips back and forth to thrust into her. Smiling and listening again to the other end of the conversation.

Ivy kept grinding herself against Bruce even as he got on his knees and lowered her to the carpet. She only had a moment's warning from him shoving down to the ground, rough enough to feel the hardwood underneath, and then he slammed his cock into her trembling body. She let out a light, high-pitched squeal.

Again, Bruce punished Ivy by withholding her pleasure. "Oh, sorry, one of the dogs," he explained into the phone. It beeped and he held it away from his ear a moment to check the text message he'd just received. Ivy got a glimpse of it—it looked like just a meaningless string of letter and numbers.

He put the phone back to his ear, put his hand over Ivy's mouth, holding her in place that way as he thrust into her. She thrashed wildly on the floor, arms and legs flailing against the carpet, the legs of the desk beside them, Bruce's body. But nothing she could do could affect his performance, make him either slow down or speed up. She could only purr and coo in ecstasy against his hand.

"That sounds great," Bruce said into the mouthpiece. "I was also hoping to find her an agent, or some kind of manager. I'm afraid I'm a little lost in that department, so if you could e-mail me a few suggestions—people who aren't total maniacs, you know... Yeah, I'd appreciate it. Take your time, we've got all night.

He felt her cunt warming against his cock, felt Ivy tense herself, gasp, clench on his manhood. He didn't ease up for even a moment. He kept himself buried inside her, pumping into her without ever fully withdrawing. It drove her wild, bouncing on the floor and into him as if trying to unseat him, roll over atop him, or more likely get him to respond more forcefully. Her fingernails raked up and down his back, but he ignored them, ignored the smart slapping of her inner thighs against him, ignored the juices that his cock pulled away from her wet cunt with every withdrawal. He squeezed her left breast, feeling her heart racing madly beneath it. She was getting hotter and hotter, her skin flushing as red as it had once been green.

"Okay, I'll get Paige to call you in the morning. Thanks again. Bye," Bruce said, and hung up. Then took his hand away.

Ivy screamed and twitched under Bruce, coming for him. He'd timed it just right. Her clit flared—the heat in her cunt became a flash fire burning through her body. He fucked her right through her climax, keeping up the pace until she screamed herself hoarse. Then he grounded himself in her, holding her groin tightly to his as he twisted his cock inside her. Her mind and body joined in pleasure that erased all other thought, all other feeling. She floated at the peak of her climax, barely aware of his cock spurting thickly, seed gushing into her trembling cunt.

Ivy's mouth fell open in a silent moan as he removed himself from her impassioned sex. Her eyes closed and her head dropped back. Dimly, she was aware that they were moving—Bruce had hoisted her up once more—and then she was being laid down upon his bed, beside the huddled up Calendar Girl. Her long legs hung loosely over the side.

Now just one little kiss and he'd be her slave, fucking her to death... his death. If only she could move...

Bruce, however, was picking up a robe from a hanger on the closet. "That was Bi magazine. They think they can swing a pictorial with Paige, a brief interview about how we met, why so many villainesses seem to be bisexual, that sort of thing." He wrapped the robe around himself. "I just have to shoot off a few e-mails to get confirmation."

"But Bruce—" Ivy tried to make herself pose as appealingly as possible while still panting for breath. "Don't you have something else to shoot off?"

"Business before pleasure," Bruce said apologetically. "But I'm sure Paige is in a mood to celebrate, if you're going unentertained."

"Celebrate..." Paige muttered, pulling close to Ivy, her lips pursed.

"Wait—" Ivy started to say, but it was too late. Paige's lips brushed against her own, her little stimulant instantly working its way into the Calendar Girl's system.

Bruce waved goodbye jauntily as he left the room, Paige already climbing on top of Ivy. "Something about you just turns me on all of a sudden, Isley..."

"Tetrahexenodraten," Ivy explained impatiently. "And he's getting away! Get off—"

But Paige was already parting her legs and bowing her head to Ivy's sex, giving Pam a brand-new example of how wonderful a woman's tongue could be.

"Get off..." Ivy said again, weaker this time, and Paige rubbed her thighs together as she resolved to make Ivy do just that.