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With desire evident between my thighs and my breasts heavier than they’d ever been?
No, I—
“Now, Ily.”
Struggling to my feet, I swayed before him. His eyes flashed between me and the stage. “Does seeing him about to fuck her turn you on?”
Before I could brace myself, his hand touched my knee, then drifted swift and possessive up my inner thigh.
My body erupted in tremors.
“Let’s see, shall we?” His voice dripped with black.
I wobbled as his fingers slipped between my legs. The smallest graze of his touch dragged a moan from deep, deep within me.
He jerked.
He let loose a stream of filthy French. “Putain de merde, tu es mouillée. Qu’est-ce que tu me fais, bordel.” (Fucking hell, you’re wet. What the hell are you doing to me?)
Shadows consumed his handsome, harsh face just before he spun me to face away. “His performance might have made you wet, Ily, but me? I’ll make you goddamn drenched.” Wrapping an arm around me from behind, he jerked me onto his lap and spread my thighs on either side of his.
Exposed.
Wide open.
I tried to fight his hold, but he imprisoned me against his chest and cupped one of my aching breasts. His teeth scraped my ear from behind. “Watch him. Watch them.”
My eyes turned hazy as his large hand shot down my belly.
This wasn’t acting or role-playing.
This was something else.
Something dangerous.
Corine cried out as Peter suddenly mounted her on stage. His cock sank deeply into her. Her back arched. He grunted.
They fit together so well. He withdrew only to vanish back inside her. She ground herself on him in salacious welcome.
Plates were pushed aside as Masters summoned slaves to serve. Charles inched his chair away from the table and snapped his fingers. The male jewel immediately rose up on his knees, undid his Master’s shorts, then inserted Charles’ hard cock into his mouth.
Victor stood and flipped his jewel over the table. Without any touching or teasing, he kicked her legs apart, unzipped his pants, then sank his hard length deep inside her. Some Masters ordered their jewels to go to the rack and bring back a whip, chains, or plugs. Others took them face down on the floor with vicious pumps.
The entire gazebo became a mismatch of dinner party and orgy, led by Peter and Corine as their thrusts grew frantic and frenzied. Peter cursed and roared. Corine moaned and begged. They rode each other, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them as Henri sank a single finger inside me.
Good God.
My vision shot white as my body clamped down on his invasion.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunted, inserting a second finger.
My entire body went floppy and rigid at the same time.
Why?
Why did he have to affect me so much?
Why did he have this power over me?
