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My first instinct is one of fear, and it tells me to look away. But my second instinct comes from some primitive part of me that will not turn away.
He has the kind of body born from long hours in the gym. Thick abs. Strong thighs. A diamond-cut chest. Shoulders as round as boulders. He moves achingly slow as he approaches her, his muscles gleaming in the dull light. When he reaches her, he grabs one of her ankles and secures it to the edge of the bed, repeating it with the other ankle, so her legs are spread wide.
Every move is made with deliberate slowness to increase anticipation.
Lust aches between my thighs as I watch him crawl up the bed, dragging his muscular frame over her petite figure, the thick outline of his erection brushing over her panties.
Without thinking, my thighs part.
After my orgasm in the changing room at the House of Bianchon, I’ve been riding high all afternoon. It’s like a door has opened somewhere inside me and where it leads to is anyone’s guess. But that’s the exciting part. I’ve opened myself up to a part of me, and I have a feeling it’s capable of anything and everything.
With a growl, the man grabs the woman’s chin and kisses her deeply and fiercely. All the while, the music plays, a deep, probing beat that pulses at my core.
“This is turning you on,” Nico says beside me in a deep, smooth voice laced with lust.
My entire body ignites with heat. His words and tone are a potent aphrodisiac to my senses.
Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I lick my lips. “I don’t know.”
But it’s a lie, and he knows it.
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying what you enjoy, Bella,” he says, his hot gaze fixed to my profile.
I struggle to swallow as the man rips the woman’s panties from her body and buries his head between her thighs. Her whimpers echo around us and my pussy throbs hungrily.
I bite down on my lip because I want to feel what she’s feeling. A pair of warm lips sucking my clit. A strong tongue stroking my pussy. The ache builds tight inside me until I have to squirm in my seat.
I’m desperate to reach down and touch myself, but I don’t dare.
“There is a lot of freedom in letting go,” Nico says, his voice like warm honey as he continues to watch me and not them. He leans closer. “Let go with me, and I promise you an unimaginable amount of pleasure.”
His words reach my clit like the lick of a velvety tongue.
I try to swallow back the moan, but it escapes anyway.
On the other side of the glass, the woman writhes on the bed, gripping the edge and arching her back, while I’m frozen in my own torturous hell as my body begs for relief.
Oh God, I need to quench the throb between my legs.
I glance at Nico. His face is tight with lust, his eyes hooded and focused on the man and the woman, his legs spread with one hand resting on the bench seat next to him, the other curled into a fist on his thigh.
The woman moans, and the man mutters dirty, filthy words before penetrating her with his tongue once more.
I lick my lips and grip the edge of the seat, clasping so tightly I’m white knuckled.
I imagine how it feels. Being suckled. Being penetrated.
Nico leans closer.
“Do you want to come?”
His voice is ragged and hoarse in my ear.
Desperately, my body screams.
I’m so turned on I feel like I’m going to lose my mind.
I squeeze my eyes closed as if I can shut it all out.
This club. Nico. The man and woman fucking in front of us. They’re causing a sensory overload, and I’m afraid to give in to my desire because I don’t know what I’m capable of if I let it take control.
All I know is I desperately want to.
“Answer me,” Nico demands hoarsely. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” I blurt out.
My eyes are still stuck on the man fucking the woman with his tongue, but I can feel Nico smile beside me.
“I want to watch you.” His voice is a hoarse whisper. “Show me how you make yourself come when you’re alone.”
The pulse in my core is sweet agony. Relentless and hungry.
“Let go, Bella,” he says roughly. “Touch yourself.”
Involuntarily, my legs part farther, and I slide my fingers down my thighs, a tremble rolling through me when I reach that sweet spot. My clit aches for friction, and the moment my fingers slide over the slippery nub, I let out a groan.
“That’s it,” Nico rasps beside me. “Make yourself feel good.”
He ignores the man and woman in the peep room, and it occurs to me that I’m giving him his own voyeuristic show, which turns me on even more.
