20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Iris

Mason’s knife finally breaks the skin, a thin red line appearing on Elijah's chest. Elijah gasps, his body instinctively trying to arch away from the blade.

"Ah ah," I chide, my free hand pressing down on his hip to hold him still. "I wouldn't move if I were you. Unless, of course, you want the knife to slip deeper?"

Elijah freezes, his chest heaving with quick, shallow breaths. "You're insane," he hisses through clenched teeth. "Both of you."

I laugh, the sound raising goosebumps on Elijah. "Oh, pretty boy," I purr, "you have no idea."

My own blades join Mason's as they dance across Elijah's skin. We work in tandem, years of practice evident in the way our movements complement each other. Thin red lines appear in our wake, crisscrossing Elijah's golden skin like a macabre work of art. Each one draws a hiss or gasp from our captive, his muscles tensing and relaxing in waves. The blood wells up in delicate beads, like rubies against golden sand and we can’t resist painting patterns on his skin with it.

"Fuck," Elijah gasps as my knife traces a particularly sensitive spot along his ribs. "Is this supposed to be punishment? Because I've got to say, your technique could use some work."

Despite his words, I can see the effect we're having on him. His cock is hardening, twitching with each new cut. A bead of precum glistens at the tip, evidence of his body's betrayal.

"Oh?" I muse, trailing my blade along the inside of his thigh. "And what would you suggest? More pressure, perhaps?"

To emphasize my point, I press down slightly harder, watching as blood wells up in the wake of my knife. Elijah's breath hitches, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"Careful now," Mason warns, his voice a low growl. "We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Elijah lets out a bark of laughter, the sound tinged with hysteria. "Hurt myself? That's rich, coming from the psychopaths currently carving me up like a Christmas turkey."

I can't help but chuckle at his sass. Even now, spread out and bleeding on our floor, he still manages to keep that sharp tongue. It's part of what makes him so irresistible.

"Such a mouth on you," I tsk, letting my blade dance dangerously close to his cock. "I'm starting to think you enjoy this."

Elijah's eyes widen as he watches the knife hover near his most sensitive areas. "You wouldn't," he breathes, but there's a note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Wouldn't I?" I purr, letting the flat of the blade rest against his inner thigh. "You seem awfully... excited for someone who claims to hate this so much."

As if to prove my point, Elijah's cock twitches again, another bead of precum joining the first. "Fuck," he breathes, his head falling back against the cool marble floor.

I can't help but laugh at his bravado. "Oh, pretty boy," I purr, leaning in close enough that my breath ghosts over his ear. “I don't think your body got the memo about this being a punishment."

His cock lies hard against his stomach. The sight sends a jolt of arousal through me, heat pooling low in my belly.

"Look at you," Mason murmurs, his free hand trailing down Elijah's chest, fingers dancing through the droplets of blood. "So hard for us. So eager, even as you pretend to hate it."

Elijah's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. "It's just a physical reaction," he grits out. "It doesn't mean anything."

I chuckle. "Keep telling yourself that, pretty boy. Maybe if you say it enough times, you'll start to believe it."

My blade resumes its dance across his skin, leaving delicate red lines in its wake. I take my time, savoring each shuddering breath, each tiny whimper that escapes Elijah's lips despite his best efforts to stay silent.

Mason's knife traces the curve of Elijah's hip, dipping dangerously close to his straining erection. "I wonder," he muses, his voice a low growl, "how sensitive you are down here. Shall we find out?"

Before Elijah can protest, Mason drags the flat of the blade along the length of his cock. He lets out a strangled moan as the cool metal glides along his heated flesh. His hips buck, seeking more contact even as he tries to pull away.

"Fuck," he gasps, his chest heaving. "Oh god, please..."

Mason chuckles darkly. "Please what, Elijah? Please stop? Or please don't stop?"

Elijah squeezes his eyes shut, his face flushed with a combination of arousal and shame. "I... I don't know," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

I watch, fascinated, as another bead of precum wells up at the tip of Elijah's cock. The sight sends a jolt of heat straight to my core, my own arousal building with each passing moment.

Mason's eyes gleam with wicked amusement as he continues to tease Elijah with the flat of the blade. "You know," he purrs, "I could take care of this for you. If you want."

Elijah's eyes fly open, locking onto Mason's face. There's a war raging behind those icy blue depths - desire warring with pride, need battling against his stubborn will.

"What's the catch?" he asks, his voice rough with barely contained lust.

A slow, predatory smile spreads across Mason's face. "Oh, there's always a catch, pretty boy. The condition is this - I'll make you come, but only after you make Iris come first."

Elijah's breath hitches, his gaze darting between Mason and me. I can see the wheels turning in that brilliant mind of his, weighing his options, considering the implications.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that while tied up like this?" he finally asks, tugging slightly at his restraints for emphasis.

Mason's grin widens. "Oh, I think we can arrange something." He turns to me, his eyes dark with desire. "Darling, why don't you sit on our guest's face? Let him put that clever tongue of his to good use."

A shiver of anticipation runs through me at Mason's words. I set my knives aside carefully, then move to hover over Elijah's face, facing his feet. The marble floor is cool against my knees as I settle into position.

I position myself over Elijah's face, my thighs on either side of his head. I hover there for a moment, letting him feel my heat and wetness just inches from his mouth. His breath comes in quick pants, warm against my sensitive flesh.

Mason kneels between Elijah's spread legs, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock. Slowly, torturously, he licks a long stripe up the underside, from root to tip. Elijah gasps, his hips bucking, seeking more contact. But Mason pulls back, denying him further stimulation.

I remain suspended above Elijah, close enough that he can surely smell my arousal, but not quite touching. The anticipation builds, a near-tangible thing hanging in the air around us.

Suddenly, Elijah growls, his voice rough with frustration and arousal. "For fuck's sake," he snarls, "just sit your psycho ass down already!"

I can't help the laugh that bubbles up from my chest, equal parts surprised and delighted by his outburst. "As you wish," I purr, lowering myself onto his waiting mouth.

The first swipe of his tongue has me moaning. He wastes no time, diving in with enthusiasm that belies his earlier defiance. His tongue circles my clit before dipping lower, exploring every fold and crevice.

"Fuck," I gasp, my hands bracing against his chest for balance. My fingers smear the blood there, creating abstract patterns on his golden skin.

Mason chuckles, his hand still working Elijah's cock in long, slow strokes. "That's it, pretty boy," he purrs. "Show my wife what that clever tongue of yours can do."

Elijah responds by redoubling his efforts, his tongue delving deeper inside me before returning to my clit. He sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, alternating between gentle suction and quick flicks that have me seeing stars.

I grind down against his face, chasing my pleasure. The cool marble floor beneath my knees is a contrast to the heat building inside me. Elijah's stubble scratches deliciously against my inner thighs, adding another layer of sensation to the experience.

Mason leans down, taking Elijah's cock into his mouth. The moan Elijah lets out vibrates against my core, drawing an answering moan from my own lips. I watch, mesmerized, as Mason's head bobs up and down, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks.

The sight, combined with Elijah's relentless tongue, pushes me closer to the edge. I can feel my orgasm building, a coiling tension in my lower belly.

I grind down harder against Elijah's face, chasing my release. His tongue is relentless, alternating between quick flicks across my clit and long, slow licks through my folds. The dual sensations of his soft tongue and rough stubble against my sensitive flesh are driving me wild.

"Fuck," I gasp, my head falling back as waves of pleasure crash over me. "Oh god, yes, right there!"

Elijah responds by sucking my clit into his mouth and flicking it rapidly with his tongue. The coil of tension in my core winds tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

I look down, watching as Mason takes Elijah's cock deeper into his throat. The sight of my husband's lips stretched around Elijah's shaft, combined with the exquisite sensations Elijah's mouth is creating, finally pushes me over the edge.

My orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, pleasure radiating out from my core in pulsing waves. I cry out, my body shuddering as Elijah continues to lick and suck, drawing out my climax until I'm a trembling, oversensitive mess above him.

As I come down from my high, I lift myself off Elijah's face. His chin and cheeks glisten with my release, his eyes dark with lust. He's breathing heavily, chest heaving.

I shift to the side, giving myself a better view of Mason and Elijah. The sight before me sends another bolt of heat through my body, my oversensitive flesh tingling with renewed arousal.

Mason's lips are stretched wide around Elijah's hard length, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks. One hand grips the base of Elijah's cock, while the other fondles his balls, rolling and squeezing them gently. Mason's eyes are closed in concentration, his brow furrowed slightly as he works.

Elijah's head is thrown back, the long column of his throat exposed as he gasps for air. His chest heaves with each ragged breath, the cuts we made earlier weeping tiny droplets of blood. His hands clench and unclench, fingers scrabbling against the smooth marble floor as he fights against his restraints.

I watch, mesmerized, as Mason's head bobs up and down. His tongue swirls around the head of Elijah's cock on each upstroke, dipping into the slit to gather the beads of precum that gather there. On the downstroke, he takes Elijah deep into his throat, his nose brushing against the neatly trimmed hair at the base.

Elijah's hips buck upward, seeking more of that wet heat. A low, guttural moan escapes him, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Fuck," he gasps, his voice hoarse and strained. "Oh god, fuck..."

Mason's hand tightens around Elijah's balls, squeezing firmly as he continues to work Elijah's cock with his mouth. The dual sensations seem to push Elijah to the brink. His whole body goes taut, muscles straining against his bonds.

"Oh fuck, oh god," Elijah gasps, his voice cracking. "I'm gonna... I'm..."

Mason pulls back slightly, keeping just the head of Elijah's cock in his mouth. His hand strokes the shaft rapidly, twisting on each upstroke.

With a strangled cry, Elijah comes. His hips buck wildly as he empties himself into Mason's waiting mouth. I watch, transfixed, as Mason's throat works, swallowing every drop. Elijah's orgasm seems to go on forever, his body shuddering with each pulse.

Finally, Elijah collapses back against the marble floor, utterly spent. His chest heaves as he gasps for air, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. The cuts we made earlier have mostly stopped bleeding, leaving intricate patterns of drying blood across his torso.

Mason pulls off Elijah's softening cock with an obscene pop. He licks his lips, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Crawling up Elijah's body, he hovers over him, their faces inches apart.

"I hope you're comfortable," Mason murmurs. "Because you're going to be staying right here for the rest of the night."

Elijah's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of confusion passing over his face. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice hoarse from his earlier cries.

Mason's smirk widens. "Well, you see," he says conversationally, as if discussing the weather, "I rather enjoy the sight of you wearing my wife's release." His fingers trail through the sticky remnants of my orgasm on Elijah's chin. "And I think you'll look even better wearing mine."

Before Elijah can process what's happening, Mason straddles his chest. He takes his own hard cock in hand, stroking it rapidly. "Open wide, pretty boy," he growls.

Elijah, still dazed from his intense orgasm, complies almost automatically. Mason groans as he comes, thick ropes of cum painting Elijah's face and open mouth. Some lands on his tongue, more splatters across his cheeks and forehead.

When he's done, Mason sits back, admiring his handiwork. Elijah lies there, stunned, cum dripping down his face.

"Perfect," Mason purrs, running a finger through the mess on Elijah's cheek. "Now, as I said, you're going to stay right here, wearing our cum, for the rest of the night. Sweet dreams, Elijah."

With that, Mason stands and offers me his hand. I take it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. As I rise, I suddenly notice the change in the light. The warm glow of the afternoon sun has faded, replaced by the soft illumination of the crystal chandelier above. Outside the large windows, night has fallen, the manicured grounds of our home are barely visible in the moonlight.

Mason guides me towards our bed, his hand a warm presence at the small of my back. The soft sheets whisper against my skin as I slide beneath them, a stark contrast to the cool hard marble floor we've been kneeling on. The mattress dips as Mason joins me, his body radiating heat as he settles in beside me.

I open my mouth, ready to protest the early night. After all, there's still so much we could do with our captive guest. But before I can voice my thoughts, a massive yawn escapes me, catching me by surprise. Suddenly, the weight of the day's activities crashes down on me, exhaustion seeping into my very bones.

Mason chuckles softly, pulling me close. "Rest, my love," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple. "We have all the time in the world to play with our pretty boy, at least for the next week."

I burrow into his embrace, my head resting on his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat is soothing, lulling me towards sleep.