Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
He gripped her hip with one hand, the clasps of her handcuffs in the other, and gave her a hard thrust. The force of it made her entire body jolt from the impact. Then, he fucked her like he couldn’t care less if she enjoyed it.
But I knew the opposite was true, that every beat of this scene had been scripted with her pleasure in mind.
Clay didn’t share the stage with them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t participating.
When he’d completed the pieces for my friends’ dungeon in New York, I’d gone to his workshop in his house to evaluate the finished products. I’d taken photos before they were boxed up, so we’d know if any damage occurred during shipping.
There’d been a journal open on one of the side tables with sketches of different pieces and lists of materials, but in the margins, he’d scribbled other kinds of notes. I tried not to be nosy, but his shorthand wasn’t hard to decipher. There were detailed plans for scenes, some even included timelines.
He’d been distracted when I’d caught a glance, and because he was so private, I pretended I hadn’t seen a thing. But that journal had been fucking fascinating, and I wondered if he planned all aspects of his life, even his moments with Travis and Lilith.
It was entirely possible this evening’s show was being performed under his direction.
The brutal way Travis moved took a toll on everyone—not just Lilith.
Was he aware when he’d edged her, he’d edged the audience? Our restlessness shifted and tension built, climbing toward release. People wanted to fuck, or wanted to get off, or wanted to make someone else do that. There was a pulse running through us, beating in time with his furious tempo, and then speeding ahead to match her desperate gasps and whimpers of satisfaction.
Charlotte’s legs were crossed, and I noticed the way her thigh muscles tensed. Was she squeezing that muscle deep inside her to give her a hit of pleasure?
When I thought about touching her, the warning in my head stayed quiet this time. Perhaps it had been destroyed in the heat of this night, burned away. I leaned over until my shoulder touched hers and brought my mouth close.
“Would you like me,” I whispered, “to do you another favor tonight?”
She didn’t take her gaze off the couple on stage, but she didn’t need to. I felt the shudder roll through her shoulders and heard the enormous breath she pulled in. She liked my offer very much.
She pressed her shoulder back against mine and lifted her chin, turning her head toward mine, while still keeping her gaze fixed on the bench like a diehard voyeur. “Only if I get to do you a favor too.”
Warmth raced through me. “What a hard bargain you drive.”
I showed her I agreed to her terms by placing my hand on her thigh. I didn’t ask if she was okay with me touching her, because I’d gotten ahead of myself, but as I suspected, she was okay with it.
More than okay, because as soon as she registered what I’d done, she uncrossed her legs and pulled my hand up so it rested on her inner thigh just beneath her skirt. The action made my head cloud with smoke.
Shit, she was dangerously confident and sexy.
When she’d texted me the picture earlier tonight, I’d cursed her short skirt. It was so teasing and . . . tempting. Maybe I would have been better at keeping my hands to myself if she’d worn pants, but honestly? They probably wouldn’t have been a deterrent. They’d only have slowed us down.
I didn’t move my hand when it was nestled between her legs. Just the heat of it against her smooth, warm skin was enough. Plus, she didn’t need the reminder—we were both well aware of its location.
The violent slaps of Travis’s hips against Lilith’s ass were staccato and relentless. When he let go of the wrists he’d been holding behind her back, he latched a hand in her hair, gripping close to the scalp at the top of her head. It was so he could pull her up off the bench, making her arch like a bow.
Her tits bounced with his rough thrusts, and her moans swelled, signaling to everyone that she was close. Maybe only seconds away from losing control. He used his hold on her hair to turn her face toward the audience.
Fucking her like this was a workout, and he asked it through his labored breaths. “Are you going to come?”
“Yes,” she gasped.
“Yeah? Show us,” he demanded.
It wasn’t clear if he meant him and Clay . . . or the audience, but she showed everyone anyway. Her mouth dropped open, rounding with a silent ‘oh,’ and a full body shudder washed through her. He kept pounding into her throughout her orgasm, and the sight of this explosion of pleasure snapped the last of the control in me.