The Bureau of Pleasure Control Ch. 07

"Do you think Nick would need this much help getting in the mood if it were just the two of them?" asked Kristen.

"Shh," Officer Deacon spoke into the blanket under her face. "We're not in a position to solve that one for them. Not today."

"I'm not trying to solve it, I'm just talking shit," said Kristen. "Sorry, the attitude's harder to turn on and off that I thought."

"What was that?" Nick asked them.

"Nosy!" Kristen scolded him.

Nick pulled her upward by the neck.

"Ow! I was just saying what a drag it is, when a visitor has to go and fuck my ass like this," said Kristen. "It's practically a cheat. It doesn't even take any skill or effort to make my clit so hard it hurts."

"It hurts?" Nick asked, thrusting into her extra deep. "Right now?"

"Like a stomach ache from hunger," said Kristen. "Like a swollen muscle that twinges when you try to massage the knots out. Even if I could touch myself right now, it might be too late to enjoy it. I'm going to be all sore for days, up front and in back, for what? For you? Oh, right, and a fuck-ton of points."

She laughed, and Nick let her drop roughly back to the bed.

"It really is sore," Kristen whispered to Officer Deacon.

"Good!" Officer Deacon hissed, though she clasped Kristen's hands in hers with undisguised warmth. "I hope you realize how lucky we got today. You have no idea what some of these VIP sessions are like. This is a cakewalk."

"You're not going to convince me to regret this," said Kristen.

"You didn't need to take this kind of risk," said Officer Deacon. "Not at this point in your career. Not like me."

"You're going to be okay," said Kristen. "I promise."

"How could you possibly...?"

Kristen felt the element of surprise slip through her fingers, and let it go with a shrug.

"Oh," said Officer Deacon. "Oh, no. No."

"I promise," Kristen repeated, squeezing Officer Deacon's hands fiercely.

"Are you comforting each other?" Nick teased. "That's about all you can do, isn't it? Comfort, but not pleasure."

His voice was getting vaguer, less coherent, closer to the edge. He shoved Kristen farther forward, leaning over her and stretching his hands toward the middle of the bed.

Noah mirrored him, pressing his still-clothed abs against Officer Deacon's back. There was a catlike coyness to the motion, as if it might be a complete coincidence that he happened to feel like leaning forward at that exact moment.

Nick and Noah's hands rested outside of Kristen and Officer Deacon's, fingertips millimeters apart.

They got no closer than that before Nick gasped, and Kristen felt the warm pulse of fluid gush into her. He collapsed on top of her.

"Thank you again," he murmured, sounding faintly forlorn but not bitter, soft inside and out. "I mean it."

"No problem," said Kristen, running her thumb tenderly along Officer Deacon's knuckles.

***

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