Beneath Me 28-29....
Emma closes the door behind her and smiles at them. “Well, isn't this delightful?” Her eyes sweep over their entangled forms, Charles's tousled hair, flushed cheeks...
“Emma.” Charles pushes Erik off him hastily. “You...” What the devil is he supposed to do now? “You should go.” He mutters to Erik, who nods.
“Oh, not just yet.” Emma just leans against the door. “The way I see it...Charles, we are presented with a few choices.”
Erik simply stands there watching them. He knows as well as Charles that she could destroy them with a single word.
“Emma.”
“I could tell our fathers...and that would end very unpleasantly for you...” She glances at Erik. “For you...and your servant, I imagine. He's...a footman?”
“Stable hand.” Charles's throat is dry.
“Oh, Charles.” Emma laughs. “Even better.”
“Just precisely what will it take for you not to tell, my lady?” Erik breaks in.
Emma looks at him in surprise. “Articulate too. Will wonders never cease...”
“Enough,” Charles says testily. “What do you want, Emma?”
“I think,” Emma moves to sit in the armchair opposite the bed. “That if I'm to marry you, Charles, as they seem to be suggesting...I have every right to observe your...performance beforehand.”
“That...is not how it's done.” Charles can barely get the words out. He doesn't dare look at Erik for fear of what the man is thinking. If only Charles could read his mind. Not that he would. Such a thing would be an invasion of the man's privacy, but all the same, Charles wishes he could just know.
“Come, come, Charles. If you're shy...or embarrassed,” Emma's eyes fairly glitter with amusement. “I'm perfectly willing to watch you being fucked by him.”
“Emma!”
Now he has to look at Erik, to try and take a stab at wondering what's going through the man's mind. Erik is remote as ever. But there's something there in his cool eyes. Something that makes Charles shiver with fear and lust.
“What do you say, Charles?” Emma drawls languidly. “If you don't, I'll simply have to tell my father, and yours, that I saw you coupling with another man. And a servant, no less.”
Charles closes his eyes. He knows perfectly well what would happen then. “Please, Emma.”
“Is it so hard to be penetrated by him? I'm sure you've done it before. You have, haven't you? I can tell. Go on then.” She nods at Erik. “Bend him over the back of the bed.”
Erik raises an eyebrow. “You don't want him on the carpet on all fours?” His tone verges on mocking.
“As tempting as that is,” Emma shakes her head, “No, the back of the bed will suffice. Come on, Charles. It's almost tea time.”
There is no end to the humiliation. Charles sighs and undoes his trousers. He barely has them unfastened before Erik seizes his arms, pushing him over the bed.
“Hands on the footrest,” he commands, bending Charles forward, pulling his trousers down around his knees. “Come on.”
“Erik,” Charles murmurs, but the man simply puts a hand on his neck and pushes him over so that his ass is in perfect view of the armchair Emma's perched in. Charles's hands tighten on the bed rail. Surely the man isn't going to...
“As much as I'd like to see you take him dry, he does have to be able to ride tomorrow. There's oil in the cabinet.” Emma points one slender finger.
It's barely a moment before Erik's slicked fingers breech his entrance and Charles does his best not to cry out. Despite the oil, it's still too fast, too hard, but Erik's moving quickly, fucking him brutally with his fingers until Charles can't contain his moans any longer. His hips jolt awkwardly against the bed frame. Then, Erik withdraws his fingers and lines up his cock, the blunt head just resting at Charles's hole. He doesn't begin thrusting though and Charles starts to raise his head when he hears Emma's order, “Now.”
And Erik begins to fuck him. Steadily. At her command. Charles's face burns.
As humiliated as he is, Charles can't contain a groan of pleasure as Erik fucks him steadily. It's slow and measured. Erik's fingers close on his ass as he pulls out, but before either Emma (or Charles) can protest he simply spreads Charles even wider as he thrusts back in.
“Oh, god.” Charles grabs at the sheets.
Emma watches avidly. “Harder.”
Erik grits his teeth, adjusting himself so that his grip jolts Charles harder over the bed frame with each thrust. Charles's own cock is rubbed mercilessly into the wooden frame as Erik fucks him. He whimpers in spite of himself with the motion.
Emma sits back, crossing her legs languidly. “You can do better than that.”
Erik pulls out again, glaring at her, before he pulls Charles up onto the bed on his hands and knees and enters him again. As he fucks Charles, his hand reaches around to tug sharply on Charles's right nipple. Charles groans, arching into the motion. Erik is filling him, making Charles's ass strain around his cock as as he tortures Charles's nipples until Charles is bent over, begging for it desperately.
“Erik, please, please, Erik. Erik.”
Erik looks at Emma questioningly.
“Not yet.”
Charles groans in frustration. It only grows worse when Erik licks his fingers, spitting into his palm and running his hand over Charles's cock. It's torture, the wet heat of Erik's grasp sliding over him, just tight enough for Charles to arch into. He thrusts feverishly into Erik's fist, as Erik moves his hand slower and slower. He does this until Charles is keening desperately as he fucks Erik's hand.
“Please, Erik.”
Erik looks again at Emma, and this time she nods her consent. He speeds ups his thrusts as he strokes Charles off. Charles shudders into his grasp, clutching the sheets so tight, his knuckles are white.
When he comes, he can feel the bed shake around them. Charles closes his eyes as Erik's come fills him. He's limp and wrung out. As uncomfortable as this position is, he doesn't want to move. No, he simply wants to stay right here, with the sweat drying on the back of his neck and Erik deep inside him.