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My denied release twisted into a painful knot of need.
“You’re learning fast.” Charles chuckle-groaned as his jewel kept working his dick. “Orgasm denial keeps them eager.” Running his hand over his jewel’s shoulder, he added, “Take this one. He blows like a trooper and takes it up the ass like a champ. He told me he’s straight, but he likes me fucking him. Don’t you, Dane?”
Dane nodded, his lips stretched around his Master’s cock.
“He prefers me over others because I occasionally reward him with a jerk-off.” Bending sideways, Charles reached down and grabbed Dane’s bare erection.
Dane immediately reared higher on his knees, rocking his hips into his Master’s fist.
Henri kept a smile on his lips all while he turned stiff in his chair. “Guess I’ll have to keep working on my training.”
“Keep going right now. Don’t stop on my account.” Charles twisted Dane’s cock meanly before letting him go and placing both hands on his head. “Watching your new jewel forget where she is and what she’s become was the highlight of my dinner.” He grunted, his thrusts turning quick and shallow. “She wanted you, man. Just like I want to—” He cried out as he came. His untoned belly clenched beneath his white t-shirt, his beard shivering as he jerked into the mouth of a captive.
Henri looked away.
Sourness splashed on my tongue.
Rhythmic grunts fell from Charles and just like that, the black passion and unexplainable desperation between me and Henri was gone.
Poof.
Erased.
Reality once again threw buckets of snow over us, reminding us where we were. Why we were here and what would happen if we were caught.
Good God, Ily.
How could you?
How could you almost come?
How could you even want to?
My shoulders rolled with suffocating self-hatred.
I despised myself that lust had been powerful enough to make me forget…even for a moment.
God, what would Krish think?
What the hell has become of me?
Wrapping my arms around my snarling middle, I rocked by Henri’s feet. Tears welled again, this time full of disgust.
“Don’t,” Henri hissed under his breath, his eyes locking onto the glittering liquid. “I beg you—”
“Fucking take it!” Peter roared on the stage as he thrust into Corine, shunting her across the floor as he rode his own climax. Corine screamed dramatically as if she came too. Whether she did or not didn’t seem to matter to the many men watching.
The performing couple set off a catalyst of lust and the heady, heavy groans of orgasms reaching their pinnacle threaded with the music.
My own unfinished release only made me sick.
In the distance, Victor jerked through his own pleasure before disengaging and tucking himself back into his trousers. With a snap of his fingers, the slave he’d just used dropped to her knees, head down, hands balled, lips firmly pressed into silence.
Sitting down and stabbing something from his untouched dinner plate, Victor looked across the tables at us. To Henri. And froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.
Slowly, he placed the food back down and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Shoving his chair back, he strolled toward us like a dictator.
Peter and Corine finished their act. Pulling apart, they scurried off the stage only to be summoned by two Masters on opposite sides of the room. Peter hissed as someone pressed the shock button on his collar, making his knees buckle. He didn’t fall, but the cruel laughter of whoever shocked him carried over the room. “That was for fucking another and enjoying it, Pete. Come ’ere. It’s now my turn to fuck you.”
