Free The Domville 7 (The Domville #7) by C. J. Fallowfield

for this experimentation,
especially once he’d had his hands on her body again. I’d never met a woman who
got turned on faster than Nadja did. I’d warned him that he’d need to wear
condoms, protective sex only, and he grinned and shook my hand before
disappearing back to the spa reception.
    Standing here now with my small towel around my hips,
watching him oil up his hands and imagining them on Nadja, practically hearing
her breathy moans from him rubbing her nipples, made my cock stiffen.
    ‘Are you sure you want the massages, or would you prefer
to get straight to it?’ Édouard asked, his eyes dropping to take in my
erection.
    ‘Massages first. I actually need another one,
particularly my neck and shoulders again, they’re still feeling tense. And
trust me, after a massage, Nadja is always ready for sex. It will work her up
nicely for when I let her know that you’re joining us.’
    ‘Of course,’ he smiled, lifting the modesty towel off the
bed. ‘If you’d like to remove your towel and lie on your front, I’ll make a
start.’ His glance at my full mast cock didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe I should
have said something, that he was just here for Nadja, not for me as well.
    I kept shifting as Édouard worked on me. Lying on my stomach with
a stiff cock wasn’t the most comfortable of experiences. His hands moved up
under the towel to work on my backside again and this time, I was sure he was
deliberately sweeping closer to my arsehole. Each time his thumbs got closer
and closer, until I puckered up as he slowly ran over it. My nerve endings
started firing and I had to fight the grunt that I wanted to expel. What the
fuck was wrong with me? Liking Nadja touching me there was one thing, but a
guy? I screwed up my face as he did it again. This time, the pressure was
unmistakable, as was the brush over my balls on the way back down. I virtually
scrambled onto my back the minute he released me, happy to remove my arse from
his clutches, only to be confronted with my erection taunting me. As far as my
cock was concerned, apparently it didn’t care whether my body was being touched
by male or female hands, it just got the message that ejaculation was imminent.
    ‘Ok?’ Édouard asked,
slowly licking his lip.
    ‘Yep,’ I nodded,
crossing my arms up behind my head as I watched his face for some kind of clue
as to what he was thinking. Did his eyes just rove over my stomach, then linger
on my cock? I got my answer when my towel flexed and his eyes shot straight to
it. He looked back up and caught my eye and smiled as he oiled up his hands
again, then started rubbing my legs. I was sure he didn’t shoot straight to my
thighs when he did my front last time. His fingers slipped up my towel as he
leaned forwards and ran deep grooves on my inner thighs with his thumbs,
forcing me to lift my hips off the bed a little and spread my legs further
apart. I swallowed hard as with each stroke, his fingers got closer to my cock.
I wasn’t imagining it. He was testing the water, seeing if I was up for it. What
was worse was that despite my best efforts not to, I was trying to imagine what
it would feel like for him to grab, lick, or suck me. I screwed up my face in annoyance.
    What I hadn’t confessed
to Bugsy when he’d brought up the Todd and Perry situation the other day, or in
fact confessed to anyone, was that in boarding school, I’d been forced to give
hand jobs and blow jobs to some of the older boys on a regular basis. I was a pretty-looking
boy back then, with my baby-faced looks and blond hair, and I was a loner,
which equalled the perfect target for them. The first few times I refused, and
I’d been beaten, badly. Then one night, I’d been attacked as I slept, gagged
and dragged out of my bed in the middle of the night, and the ringleader
threatened to fuck me if I didn’t oblige. I was only twelve, I had no means of
defending myself, so I’d done as I was asked, kneeling in from of the three of
them,