Crimson Clockwork Pt. 02/03

"As much as I want to crack some skulls tonight, we'd best play it safe," said Cymkor, glaring off into the darkness.

"Agreed. We dare not make a move now," I said. "I say we go back to my workshop, and you two can sleep there for the night. I'll return to the family home, fill in my father, and see what he can find out about that ship. I'll check in when I can."

**

I strode through the front door of the estate with a proud smile upon my face. My mother was writing letters in the sitting room, so I headed to my father's study, where he was poring over designs for a new variant of aerostat.

"Oh," he said, looking up from his work. "Excellent. I've been wanting to speak to-"

"I found them," I blurted, my smile widening. "A kraken-hunter moored in Dockside. It's called theErrant Storm, and it's guarded by the same automatons that attacked the manor."

"Gods' graves," he hissed, rising from his chair and rushing across the room. After slamming the door shut, he took a deep breath and grabbed my shoulders. "You didn't approach, did you?"

"Of course not. One of my...associates surveilled it. With your connections and resources, perhaps we can arrange to have it raided and searched."

"We shall do no such thing. We shall do nothing at all, in fact."

My eyes widened.

"Father?"

"I've done some research. Quite frankly, it's better for the family to just stay out of this. You're safe: that is what matters."

"But I'm not safe, father. Not if those people are still out there."

"They won't dare attack the estate or within the city itself."

"How can you possibly know that?" I snarled, squirming out of his grasp. "Who did you talk to? What did you learn?"

Eyes downcast, he wandered back to his desk.

"I spoke to Miklos Zonkara."

The mention of that name was nearly as shocking as my father's other revelations. Miklos had been a dear friend of my brother and had been wounded in the very same battle where Gavriel had died. In the carefree years before the war, Gavriel had teased me for having a crush on the dashing young man.

"What does Miklos have to do with this?"

"After the war he joined the Chamber of Internal Security. Given his connections, I sought him out."

Of course he had consulted with a government spy about this: Miklos had been a viable lead and a natural asset to exploit.

"And he says the Chamber is looking into the matter and it is best for us to stay out of it," he continued.

"Well then you can pass along the information about that ship to him."

"You do not understand. He said to stay out of it. Completely. No snooping, no investigating, no contacting him at all about it."

I swallowed.

How far, exactly, did this conspiracy reach? Were those shadowy killers somehow connected to the highest rungs of Raveth's government? Or was the Chamber in fact investigating and just wanted us out of the crossfire?

"All right," I said with a slow, careful nod.

For years I had been a dutiful daughter, following in my father's footsteps, stepping up to assist more with the business when Gavriel had gone off to war...

It was thus easy to pretend.

"I think I will go back to my workshop for the evening, though. The walk there will clear my head and I'm falling behind in my own work thanks to all this running around." After a smile, I reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. "With my guardians, of course. Just in case. And no more snooping."

My father gave me a slow, weak smile before leaning up to kiss me on the cheek.

"Check in with your mother before you go, though. She is already in the planning stages for next month's lunar feast and will want your input."

Gods' graves, of course my mother would be obsessing over some silly social event when there was a damned conspiracy afoot.

**

It took nearly an hour to extricate myself from my mother's clutches. The sun had long set by the time I returned to my workshop on the other side of the district. Every step of that journey had set my frustration ablaze, and so I very nearly threw the door off its hinges when I barged my way inside.

Cymkor and Istvan rose from their workbenches, reaching for revolvers. Both men chuckled, giving me bashful smiles as they relaxed and stowed their weapons.

Ignoring their apologies, I slammed the door and stomped across the room. Without a word, I flung myself into my work, tinkering with my razorfly designs.

"Well?" Istvan asked after a few minutes. "Is your father going to help? I imagine he could conjure an army of mercenaries with a snap of his fingers."

My hands shook with irritation; I nicked myself against one of the sharpened wings of the little machine while I worked. Hissing with pain, I wiped the blood on my dress.

"Lyneth?" Istvan said, rising from his own work to join me at my bench. "What's wrong?"

"The fucking Chamber of Internal Security, that's what's wrong. My father reached out to a contact of his there and they told us to bugger off. To stop snooping around."

"Shit," Istvan murmured.

"Why are you so angry about that?" Cymkor asked. "That's agood thing, right? If Raveth's most dangerous spies are hunting the same people we are-"

"They may not be hunting them. They may beprotecting them. Even if they aren't outright allying with those people, they may just want to cover it all up. With the old faiths being illegal, the Chamber would probablyapprove if someone else wiped out the cults."

"So we could be going up against the damned Chamber now, too."

"Not if we play our cards right," I said, glaring down at the little drop of blood that had leaked onto my workspace. "If we act openly, that may draw the ire of the Chamber, so we just need to be even more careful. If we can gather more information, perhaps we can expose those killers without fearing backlash. Or we can learn enough to take them down ourselves."

I rose from the bench and crossed over to a case filled with other schematics. Even as blood droplets leaked upon the floor, I sifted through the texts and documents.

"Lyneth," said Istvan. "You're bleeding."

He took me by the hand. When I tried to brush him off, he gripped my wrist. Ignoring my glare, he told Cymkor to fetch a bandage. While my free hand sifted through the documents, Istvan tended to the little wound.

"You needn't have bothered," I mumbled. "Was barely a scratch."

My eyes lit up as I spotted what I'd been looking for amidst the books and documents.

"Here," I said, placing a heavy book down upon the bench. "From a series of designs my father's company abandoned. Acoustic imaging devices, intended for use in undersea devices."

"How does that help us evade the Chamber's ire?" Cymkor asked.

I flipped through the pages in a blur, tapping at the various schematics.

"I should be able to cobble together a sensor like these. We can then affix it to an automaton, guide it to theErrant Storm and have it record audio through the hull. We'll be able to eavesdrop on whatever's going on inside. We can confirm how many are within, if they have prisoners, and what they're up to."

"Bloody brilliant," Istvan said, peering over my shoulder at the schematics.

His hip bumped into mine, jostling me against the desk.

"Is that your manner of flirting?" I said with a snort.

"No," rumbled Cymkor. "That was mine. I gave him that little shove."

"Gods' graves, you two are incorrigible."

I turned around and leaned back against the desk, my gaze drifting back and forth between their smirking faces.

"Luckily for you two, the parts I need aren't here," I said, barely able to suppress a smirk of my own. "I'll have to stop at a few shops that aren't open this late. So if you two lustful brutes are in need of a distraction, I suppose-"

Before I could finish, Istvan gripped the back of my neck and mashed his lips against mine. I giggled against him, my hands rising to grip his shoulders. After my tongue clashed with his for a few moments, I broke away, letting out a laugh that rippled through my workshop.

They weren't the only ones in need of a distraction.

Istvan slid to his left and set to licking at my neck, while Cymkor leaned in to claim a gentle kiss from me.

"So your behavior at the Rite was not an aberration, was it?" I muttered against Cymkor's hungry lips. "You two like to share?"

"Yes," Istvan murmured, his lips warm against my neck. "It was...a bit of a necessity, back during the war. There were so few women around that we had to share if we wanted a woman at all."

The mention of the war brought my brother to mind. I gritted my teeth and dispelled those old memories, focusing solely on the sensations inflicted by Istvan's tongue and the iron strength of Cymkor's broad frame.

"And do you two ever...enjoy each other?"

Both men chuckled.

"No," said Cymkor. "We're comfortable enough around each other, of course. We have to be for situations like this. But we both prefer..." To demonstrate, he groped my breast through the fine fabric of my dress.

I moaned at the firm touch and gave him another kiss.

Cymkor gripped my hips and we traded kisses as he dragged me across the room. With a grunt, he lifted me into his arms and placed my backside onto the edge of a workbench, sending tools and gears clattering to the floor.

"Make sure to pick all that up when you're done," I grumbled.

Sighing, I braced my arms against the bench as Cymkor yanked the dress up to my waist, then slid my silk panties down over my stockings and boots. He flicked the garments away, adding to the mess he'd already made upon the floor.

"Don't worry," Istvan said, chuckling. "We'll pick that up, too."

Considering how rough Cymkor had been with me during the Rite, I'd expected the big man to simply yank off his trousers and plow into me. To my surprise, he knelt down, his scarred hands running over my shaking thighs.

His thumb rolled over my folds, exposing my clit. My eyes fluttered and I leaned back, grinning up at Istvan as he steadied me.

After a few moments of teasing his thumb over me, Cymkor murmured under his breath and slipped a single finger inside of my sex, moving with slow, smooth thrusts.

A soft sigh left my lips.

"I can be quite loud," I murmured up at Istvan, my eyes fluttering. "We wouldn't want me to disturb any of the other shops around, would we?"

Of course, the walls of my shop had been insulated against noise due to how loud my machinery could get. And nobody would have been around that late, regardless.

That particular tease was just an excuse to get him to use my mouth.

Istvan flicked his tongue against my lips and pushed against my shoulders, placing my back against the workbench, resting my head just over the edge.

As I moaned beneath Cymkor's fingers, Istvan freed his cock from his trousers. I licked my lips at the sight of the shaft that had nearly claimed me during the Rite.

Though I longed to have Istvan use me as Cymkor had, for the moment I was content to taste his cock while Cymkor tended to my sex.

As I let out a soft cry at a firm lick from Cymkor, Istvan guided his cock past my gaping lips. I tilted my head back as far as I could, taking him deep. The pleasure flaring throughout my body was enough to distract me from the faint ache in my neck.

Breathing through my nose, I steadied myself as Istvan pulled back, then rocked his hips forward again. I squealed and gurgled at that first thrust, my hands fluttering and rising to grasp at his firm ass.

Istvan took things slowly and first, gently fucking my mouth while his comrade continued to work against my sex. Though Cymkor was not quite as deft with his tongue as Matyar, he nonetheless had me moaning and whimpering around Istvan's cock.

Gods' graves, how I wanted to stare down into those blue eyes of his while he worked, but I was too focused on taking Istvan as deeply as I could.

My muffled whimpers and gurgling moans rippled through my workshop.

"Damn, Cymkor," Istvan growled. "This mouth of hers..."

As if to reward me for how well I was taking him, he reached down and unbuttoned my vest, exposing my silken tunic to the cool air of the workshop. Firm fingers kneaded my left breast through the thin fabric.

Cymkor soon joined him, teasing at my right breast, his tongue not losing its rhythm.

By the dead gods, those men were well-coordinated. A holdover from their time working an artillery piece together, no doubt.

Hungry moans thrummed against my folds. Little grunts emerged from Istvan's lips; his fingers tightened around my nipple through the silk, plucking gently for a moment.

Drool escaped my lips, rolling down my chin and forming a froth with the pearly droplets leaking from the tip of his cock. I whined around Istvan's shaft; he twitched in response. My shaking hand rose, clutching at his wrist while my stocking-clad legs rose to drape over Cymkor's shoulders.

"That's it," Istvan growled. "Moan against my cock. Come for us."

I surrendered completely to the sensations, relishing in the control they had over me. Istvan's encouragement and the taste of his manhood certainly didn't hurt, either.

Moaning and thrashing, I obeyed Istvan's command, the muffled sounds bouncing through my workshop. My legs flailed into the air, a surge of dew greeting Cymkor's questing fingers. The mainlander growled and grunted between my legs, licking and fingering me through the little bursts of pleasure which followed that climax.

Surely not my last of the evening, given the hunger of those two.

Istvan slipped out of my mouth, holding my hand while I gasped for air. I saw stars for a moment and gave him a lazy, contented smile.

"You didn't finish. Impressive self-control."

"Came damned close, though," he said, grinning.

After Cymkor's last few licks, I sobbed a little as he pulled away, though the sight of his moistened lips brought my smile back in a heartbeat. He handed me a handkerchief; I wiped the mess from my lips and chin.

"What now? It would hardly be fair to leave you two unsatisfied..."

The sound of Cymkor tearing off his belt caused my smile to widen.

"What do you think?" Cymkor asked his friend. "Shall we use her like that dancer in Urvport?"

"Not sure if she's ready for that yet," Istvan murmured, gently plucking at my nipple again. "How about what we did to that skyship pilot back at Fort Castaa?"

"Which one? The blonde or the redhead?"

I let out a hungry laugh at the way they spoke about me as if I wasn't even there, my mind racing with lurid images of what they'd done to those other women.

Before Cymkor could answer, I lunged and reached out to shove his trousers down his legs. My eager hand grasped his manhood, giving it a few strokes. Both men laughed, even as I moaned at the memories of what that wondrous cock had done to me back in the manor.

I wasted no time. After tugging on his hips and bringing him a bit closer to the bench, I brought my mouth down upon him, turning his next chuckle into a hungry groan. As I bobbed up and down on the mainlander's shaft, I tilted my hips in a silent invitation for Istvan to take what he needed.

Reaching back with one hand, I caressed my folds, marveling at how wet Cymkor had made me. Istvan accepted the invitation, guiding the tip of his cock right towards my sopping entrance.

I lifted my mouth just in time, my eyes bulging and nearly crossing at the feel of that wondrous intrusion. Still eager to tend to Cymkor despite that momentary distraction, my free hand stroked his shaft.

For a moment I rested my forehead against his taut stomach, catching my breath and mewling as Istvan settled into a wondrous series of slow, deep thrusts.

After that first climax, I'd been simmering right on the edge of another one. Istvan's shaft and my own trembling fingers brought that simmer right up to a boil. Cymkor gently gripped my chin, giving me a few moments before he guided my gaping mouth back to his stiff shaft.

Gods' graves, how I loved it. To be worshiped and used, to be the center of attention, to have two strong, handsome men focused entirely on me...

"I told you how good her cunt felt," Cymkor growled.

"Aye," Istvan said, panting as his hips trembled, each thrust sending ripples through my backside. "And a damned fine mouth too, eh?"

"Indeed," he rumbled, running his hands through my hair with one hand as the other continued to gently grip under my chin. "Won't be long now."

Their banter and praise set me off a few moments later. I cried out against Cymkor's shaft, the muffled exaltation quickly turning into a storm of meek whimpers and sobs. My eyes fluttered, my neck straining with the effort to gaze up into his blue eyes as I came.

Cymkor joined me in bliss a moment later, his thick cock surging past my lips. After a few twitches, the first burst of his seed splashed deep within my mouth. I moaned and gurgled, swallowing as best I could, but his offering was simply too great for me to take. The mess leaked past my lips, dripping down my cheeks.

Sensing my need for a bit of relief, the big man withdrew his pulsating shaft, spewing the last bits of seed onto my hungry lips. Istvan continued to plow against me, turning my raspy sobs into louder, hungrier cries.

"Gods' graves, that's it," he snapped, his hips pounding against my ass. "So-"

The last word erupted into a groan. My eyes bulged as he came inside me, spewing his essence deep within. My fervent, aching fingers continued to massage my clit, utilizing his last few thrusts as fuel for another fire.

My next climax was a quiet and short one; I let out a few broken little whimpers, my head thrashing as Cymkor steadied me. I rocked back against Istvan's still-hard cock. He worked with me, fucking me right into my next peak despite having already found his own release.

I let out one last sob and went limp. After a few gentle touches to my backside, Istvan slipped out of me. Mumbling incoherently, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling.

"I wager this workshop has never had that particular work done here before," Istvan said with a snicker, while Cymkor handed me a cup of water.

"You'd be wrong," I said, gulping the water down before giving Istvan an impish grin. "I helped a university classmate of mine test out an invention of his here."

"An invention? That doesn't sound particularly fun."

"You only say that because you don't know what the invention was," I said, licking my lips. "A vibrating dildo. An absolutely wondrous little gadget. It proved to be a best-seller, in fact."

They laughed and pulled up their trousers before collapsing back into their chairs. After a few minutes of catching my breath and finishing that cup of water, I rose, bracing my back against the workbench.

"This dancer in Urvport you mentioned," I said, wiping sweat from my brow. "What did you do to her that was so intense you thought I couldn't handle it?"

The hunger faded in Cymkor's eyes and he glanced down at the ground.

"I mentioned it in the heat of the moment. Almost...almost forgot about Matyar."

"Oh," I murmured, clearing my throat. "I'm sorry, then. Pick another thing to tease me about, then."

"It's all right," Istvan said, clapping Cymkor on the shoulder. "We'll get him back. And you know Matyar would scold you for holding back a debauched story like that on his account."

"Fair point," Cymkor said, his smile returning. "Anyway, that dancer was sent to entertain the troops when we were on leave. Matyar hit it off with her, since he has a knack for dance and music. One thing led to another, and the three of us shared her. Matyar used her ass, while Istvan and I swapped back and forth between her mouth and her sex."

"Gods' graves," I murmured, my heart skipping a beat. "I've certainly endured my share of wickedness, but nothing quite like that."