Free Ice Queen by Joey W. Hill Page A

giving me such a gift. I know you’ll think I’m selfish. But when it’s over, if you’ll consider it, I want…I wish…” His gaze flicked up to her, Whatever it was he wanted, he mouthed it, for it didn’t come through the speakers. Her body was positioned where Tyler could not see his lips. But whatever he said, she reacted to it.
    Something like pain crossed her face for just a moment before it was gone and she was the Ice Queen once again.
    “You’ve asked a great deal of me, Brendan. Sshhh. Just let this happen. Open up.” He obeyed and she inserted it. “Bite down. You’ll hold that cock in your mouth through this last one because I won’t have you going through your tongue.” His eyes looked down, ashamed of his weakness. “No, you’ve nothing to feel guilty about.
    You’ve given me a great deal tonight.” When she turned, Tyler saw the faint gleam on 39

    Joey W. Hill
    her abdomen from Brendan’s perspiration. For some reason, where nothing else had, seeing that dampness made his loins stir with territorial need.
    “She’s being more intimate with him.” Lisbeth put a name to what his fogged brain could not. “I’ve never seen her interact to this level with a sub before.” Jeremy had the last brand handle in his grip but she gestured to him to hold it in the fire a bit longer. Instead, she came back behind Brendan. Out of his line of sight, she picked up a strap-on cock as big as what was currently protecting his tongue and stretching his lips. She ran the straps around her hips, between her legs, her hands smoothing, molding her curves as she did so, testing the fit of the crotch strap with one finger to make sure it wasn’t pinching her labia. The caressing motion made several of the audience groan in reaction. Tyler shifted, crossing his leg back the other way while Lisbeth hid a smile.
    Then she stepped forward at last, removed the plug and slid her strapped-on cock into the greased opening. She eased in, her thighs pressing against his, leaning over him, her body arched over the branded area, breasts hanging loose, wobbling with her movements.
    Jesus Christ. Tyler was hard as a rock. He wanted to put his hands on either side of that slender rib cage to lift her onto him, impale her inch by inch on his rigid cock, which felt as enormous and stiff as what she was taking to the hilt into Brendan now.
    Brendan’s breath rasped around the gag as she seated herself home and began to stroke him, in and out, her hands gripping his buttocks, spreading them, thumbs playing around the rim, nails digging in. Brendan’s face conveyed the intensity of it, the agony of the pull near the burn wound warring with the incredible pleasure she was causing him. Reaching down, she wrapped a fist loosely around his organ. Coming away with some of his cream, she brought it to her lips.
    Tyler was on his feet before he realized it. Up to the railing as others gave way before him. As if she knew, her gaze rose, met his. Putting the fingers in her mouth, she sucked. Let them slide out, down. Using her damp fingers, she wet her nipple, played with it as she rocked in and out of Brendan, whose breath was beginning to rasp with the same rhythm. As Tyler’s burning gaze fastened on her fingers, the nipple elongated, tightened. She jerked her attention from him, back to Brendan.
    “Mistress…” It was a muffled cry around the gag but Brendan’s distress was clear.
    “Come for me, Brendan,” she said, her voice even, cool, caressing, as if the raw moment had never happened. “I want to hear you this time.” His body stiffened and she gave a quick nod to Jeremy. Never breaking her rhythmic thrusts in and out of Brendan’s backside, she took the handle of the brand.
    Lifting it above her head, her lower body changed its pattern, undulating in the S-movements of a belly dancer. She swept her gaze over the crowd above her, ignoring Tyler this time. Slowly she brought the iron down, pressing it to Brendan’s