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There is silence in my head and all I see is him. His hand moves up my throat, squeezing to let me know he’s the one controlling my breath. He grabs my jacket and jerks it off, throwing it aside. He strips off my shirt and bra next.
Cool air teases my skin and goosebumps rise. He trails his fingers over the curve of my ass and along my hips.
“Layla. Stay with me. Be with me.”
His words are just for me and his voice deceptively kind.
An act?
I can’t breathe. We’ve barely begun and already I’m wet and needy. I jump out of my skin when he presses his fingers to the sides of my breasts, his dark chuckle shooting into my core.
“How do you feel?”
I scoff. “Why do you care?”
“Because you’re exposed to the rest of the room.” Gabriel drags his fingers up to my shoulders and into my hair, his body against mine. His hand clasps around my throat again with the tiniest bit of pressure, a touch that implies his ownership over me.
My toes curl in my shoes.
I go still when he pulls me against him tighter, his fingers dancing along the seam of my pants.
“You're radiant,” he whispers in a harsh voice.
What do I even say to him? It’s heady to hear him acknowledge the heat there.
“Please, Gabriel.”
I’m not sure what I’m asking for but when I try to roll my hips toward him, he turns me around.
“Hands on the back of the chair.” His demand isn’t one I’m able to fight this time.
I lose all sense of control when he nips me on my shoulder.
“You want them to enjoy the show, don't you?” he asks, dragging his teeth along the side of my neck. “How is it going to feel when I make you come and scream for an entire audience?”
The lights are as hot and red as they can go and makes it impossible to see the people on the main floor, lounging on couches and chairs with their own partners close at hand.
The unspoken laws of the Velvet Underground don’t matter here at Whip. The people who walk through these doors know that there is nothing to hold them back here. They are free to pursue their own pleasure recklessly, in whatever forms they choose.
Same stage.
Entirely different rules.
Under normal circumstances I’d want Gabriel to go slow. To give me time to be the one on stage performing rather than the guest. But we have no time. It comes down to trust.
My pulse is loud enough I can’t make out the low murmurs across the room once they get a good look at the two of us. There’s only me and Gabriel as he guides me toward the chair.
My inhale brings air to my ragged lungs. He wants to draw this moment out and I’m not sure…whatdoI want?
“Now is the time for that safe word.”
I barely register his whispered statement before I shake my head. No safe word, no going back. Only him, and only me.
FIFTEEN
gabriel
I am in control.
