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I begged because I needed.
I gave everything to him, hoping he’d give me himself in return. “Please.”
Henri cursed blackly as he plunged a third finger inside me. “You’re fucking killing me.” Biting my throat, he sank his canines into my flesh as his fingers speared possessively deep. “You want this? You want me?” His hold on me turned primitive. “Be careful what you wish for.”
I cried out as he fisted my breast and stroked my G-spot.
I didn’t even know where that damn spot was until he touched it.
I almost launched off his lap from the intensity.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Bright light and stars.
Delirious pressure and promises of exploding.
I moaned.
“Merde, you have got to stop. We shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. Fuck, he’ll kill me if I lose control.” His whispers sent fire and hissing flames through blood.
Who would kill him? His captain? Other superiors?
Would they know he touched me? That this little pantomime exceeded our agreed upon script? We didn’t have to do this. Everyone was busy with other pursuits. No judging eyes. No careful watching.
We had a reprieve from acting, and yet…we threw ourselves deeper into sin.
I climbed higher.
I clenched tighter.
“I should stop. I need to stop. I shouldn’t. Fuck, I…I can’t stop. I—” His hips arched up, driving his erection against my ass at the same time his fingers withdrew, then plunged back inside me. “Fuck it. Come, Ily. Fucking come all over my goddamn hand. Do it. Do it before I change my mind.”
I soared higher.
I prickled with sweat and savage seduction.
Yes…more.
Give me more.
As if we had a telepathic bond, Henri thrust his fingers in the age-old rhythm of mating.
I followed his pace. I wound a little tighter. I reached for the precipice to fall.
My eyes shot open as I hovered in absolute rapture.
On stage, Peter continued to fuck Corine. His hands clamped on her hips, driving hard and fast into her. He fucked with temper and the same angry helplessness that lived within him.
I felt sorry for him. Turned on by him. Tortured because of him.
His head turned as if he felt me watching. His eyes searched the darkness.
His thrusts jerked as our gazes locked across the room. Me spread and about shatter on Henri’s lap. My Master’s hand plunging wickedly between my legs. And my cheeks wet with fresh tears that I didn’t remember crying.
Tears that were part purge, part ruination.
