Page 87 of Love Language

Greg clambered back on, one knee to either side of Marco’s leg and his ass sticking out toward the audience. His face was close to Marco’s, but not so close that they couldn’t sign.

Beg me to let them see your pretty hole.

Greg hadn’t thought it could get worse, but here it was. He was probably going to die of humiliation up here.

Keeper, please…

Voice! Marco commanded. Loudly.

“Please let them see my p-p-pretty h-hole!” His voice sounded impossibly loud in his own ears, but he knew it was what Marco wanted. God help him.

Very good, promiser. You may show them. Put your head on my shoulder.

Greg pressed his cheek to Marco’s shoulder, the lace scratchy on his chin. He breathed in Marco’s scent, then pressed so close to his neck that his lips were touching it, a secret kiss, a tiny little taste. God, he loved this man.

“Spread yourself for them,” Marco softly voiced, gripping his hips to keep him stable.

Whimpering, Greg complied. He pulled the strap to one side, spreading himself open. He couldn’t see anything but Marco’s hair, the curve of his neck, his bronzed skin peeking out between the patterns in the black lace. But he could hear the audience behind him calling out dirty things.

“Show them how you play with yourself. Only on the outside.”

Every muscle in his body was shaking. It was one thing to know that he was being watched, but this was so… intimate. He was sharing this intimate part of himself with complete strangers. Because his Keeper wanted it.

He dragged one shaking finger to his hole, every sense attuned. He barely touched himself, but he was already so aroused that the feeling shot through him like lightning. Behind him, someone moaned.

He heard compliments on his ass, commands to put his finger inside. He only had to listen to his Keeper. But he could still hear everything they were saying. He rubbed himself again, moaning but trying to hold it back.

“Keep going,” Marco murmured before leaning slightly to the side. He seemed to be moving something around with one hand, maybe something under the chair.

Greg’s job was to keep touching himself, though, and he did. He heard an appreciative murmur go through the room but didn’t know the cause.

A moment later, Marco sat up again. “Hands on my shoulders.”

He was still on display, but at least this was a brief respite.

Marco was hiding something in his hand, something that flashed blue, though he couldn’t see much with Marco’s fist clenched downward.

Where had it come from? From the corner of his eye, Greg spotted the messenger bag that Marco had left slung across his chest all night. He’d known it was there but forgotten about it since Marco often carried it with him. What was in there?

Marco gave him a slow kiss on the lips. You’re beautiful, my promiser.

Greg felt his heart swell.

Marco unfurled his hand. A packet of lube and a shiny, blue butt plug. Apparently blue was the theme for the evening. It wasn’t a very large plug. Just a basic one, a simple cone and then a base. But using it now…

What color?

It took him a moment to think of anything but blue. Then, he understood.

He took a deep breath, desire and humiliation warring within him, each pushing the other further. Green.

Show them how you take it.

Oh, wait. What? He thought that Marco was going to put it in him. But he had to put it in himself? He felt his heart thump heavily in his chest, his muscles tense. He nuzzled his face into Marco’s neck, lips scratching against that provocative lace, needing assurance.

Marco ran hands down his back, one still wrapped around the objects. He voiced into Greg’s ear. “You can say no, love. It’s always your choice. I think you would look gorgeous, showing everybody how you get yourself ready for me, but only if you want it, too.”

That was the mindfuck of the whole thing. When he’d been with Richard, all he had to do was accept what happened, give himself up to his Sir’s control. Let himself be maneuvered and taken and hurt.