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She opened her mouth to say something witty, but thought better of it. As she went to close her mouth again, he curved his fingers inside her and rubbed them against her G-spot. The distressing, irritating waves of molten heat coursed through her, and her knees buckled. Luckily the table was there to hold her up.
For several minutes he explored her with his fingers, and tortured her with the leash. When his fingers pulled out, he wriggled something short and fat into her. For a few frustrating moments he fucked her with it, until she could hear the lubrication her own eager body was making for him. He pulled the toy from her pussy and pressed it against her asshole. She whimpered in quiet protest, not wanting anyone to look in on them while he pushed and twisted the thing deeper and deeper into her ass. When it was all the way in, he tapped it a few times, making her clutch frantically at the table.
That was bad enough. Then the damn thing started to vibrate.
Oh . . .
Abruptly, he pulled her down on his lap, making the plug push up more firmly inside her. She sobbed, then stopped abruptly as Loke and Geir strolled into the alcove.
“A collar, my friend?” Loke said, his lilting accent holding a hint of mockery. “Not usually your first choice.”
“A woman like her can do strange things to a man’s mind.”
The toy was buzzing, buzzing, deep in her ass. She kept blinking, trying to process the sensation without making a sound. Her pussy was empty and aching, and her clit felt two sizes too big. Was there a high-pitched whine coming from her, or was it coming from somewhere else? Her thoughts were so scrambled, she couldn’t tell.
“Your little toy seems to be in some distress,” he observed. “Do you want a room key?”
“She can wait. Waiting is good for the soul.”
Mila opened her mouth to call him a creative name, but decided not to push him in front of other Dominants. It was probably asking for a bare-assed spanking with an audience. A bare-assed spanking with a butt plug on full display. The first was bad enough without the second.
“I see you have her a bit trained now, at least.” Geir chuckled. “She thought better than to say what she was thinking just now.”
Atlas had a casual, unhurried conversation with the two of them, bouncing his knee absently every so often in a way that she knew had everything to do with jostling the plug in her ass. The implement of torture vibrated away, oblivious to her plight. Her panties were like thigh cuffs, and she hoped that in the dim light of the alcove the guys from Fitte hadn’t noticed them, even though it felt as if the pale pink of them was glowing in the low light.
Her arousal had to be soaking through the back of her dress, and into Atlas’s pant leg, but it was his own fault. She tried not to squirm, because it only made the plug move, but soon she was rocking her hips surreptitiously against his thigh.
“If she’s on orgasm restriction she’s about to be a very bad girl,” Loke pointed out.
She froze in place, and when she realized they were all looking at her, she gave Loke the finger.
Atlas snorted and swatted her thigh. “Behave.”
The smack had left a hot sting and she found herself wishing he’d smacked her between the legs instead. She squirmed against his thigh and then stopped, trying to smooth the shaky way her breaths were coming. The knot in her lower belly was so tight it made her want to scream or hit someone or both.
“She’s not on orgasm restriction,” Atlas was saying. “I just assumed she’d be too proud to get herself off in front of company. She told me she wasn’t into exhibitionism, but apparently she was lying.”
God, he didn’t understand what this was like. She dug her fingers into his back, not caring if she scratched him again. The bastard deserved a few scratches.
“Never underestimate a submissive’s need to come,” Geir said, as though it was some sort of ancient Norwegian proverb. “It’s why my women only get to come as a reward.”
If anyone else said that damned word, she was going to go ahead and do it. If she shifted even a little . . . Her body burned so hot she felt feverish. A miserable tear tried to leak from the corner of her eye, but she got that under control before things turned ugly.
“Yes, well, I don’t require the same level of obedience in women that you do. I like this one the way she is.” He bounced her on his knee, jarring her clit against his thigh and the plug in her ass.
She buried her face against his shoulder and came hard, forcing herself to be silent and not whimper or writhe on him. She wanted to scream—needed to scream—but the others were there, watching her. If she was quiet . . .
“They’re gone, they’re gone,” he said.
She pulled her face away from his shoulder to look, and it was true. They were alone. Shuddering, she sobbed. Atlas slipped a hand up her dress and shut off the plug, then stood and she had to scramble not to land on the floor.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, still shocked it had happened.
“I’m not angry,” he growled. “Come with me.” He slid her panties back up, grabbed her leash and the bag he’d gotten from the bar, then pulled her after him through the club, back to the lobby. She followed like a disobedient puppy who knew she was in for trouble, too ashamed to look anyone in the eye.
Her every step was unsteady, and before they’d even made it past the fountain his arm was around her, helping to hold her up.
When they got into the elevator he punched the button, then used the leash to reel her closer. His arm pressed her whole body against him and he kissed so deeply the world seemed to spin. Distantly, she heard the ding of the door opening, then
