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Or rather, this is truly Madame Kink. She’s in black leather, her long black hair pulled into a tight ponytail at the back of her head. She’s leaning over the woman strapped to the bed, teasing her with a vibrator between her bare legs. The woman is writhing and crying out as she seems to be getting closer to her climax. Just as she’s about to peak, Eden pulls the toy away and squeezes the woman’s nipple hard in her fingers.
I watch as Eden leans closer to her, petting her body with her soft hands as her mouth forms the words,good girl.
My stomach turns, and the arousal I felt a moment ago feels more like sick regret. I have no idea why I’m reacting this way. I’ve always wanted to watch Eden work, but now…it feels wrong. It feels like…a betrayal, like being cheated on.
Which is stupid. This is her job. It has nothing to do with me. Of course, she has other clients. I mean…I asked her to teach me her ways. I never truly hired her to do this. Why would I?
It’s not like I can be jealous for not getting something I didn’t ask for.
Duh, Jade.
And yet, watching her give this woman such precise care and focused attention makes me so…irritable. What is wrong with me?
I definitely need to leave. I need to go straight to Clay’s house and be with him because that’s where I belong, not standing here watching this woman I barely know edge a complete stranger in a sex club.
If only I could tear my eyes away.
The longer I watch, two things happen.
I get more upset.
And I get more aroused.
I didn’t even know you could be both at the same time, but here I am.
My thighs are clenched together so tight it’s creating intense pressure on my clit, and I just keep remembering what she said when she brought me in here the first time.
If you’re going to be a people pleaser, then the first person you need to please is yourself.
While Eden continues to torment the woman on the platform, every muscle in my body tightens. She places nipple clamps on her breasts, drags a feather down her body, and drips candle wax along her chest.
My hands are clasped tightly in front of me. Ever so slightly, I slide my fingers between my thighs, squeezing them there to create even more pressure. The thick denim seam of my jeans rubs against my clit, and I grow closer and closer to my climax.
The air grows thick, and it’s hard to breathe. I can practically hear my own pulse in my ears. And my body is on fire. It might be the most aroused I’ve ever felt, even more than watching the blonde woman the first day.
Eden is so captivating in her actions. She’s like an artist at work, and although the attention she gives this other woman drives me crazy, it’s also endearing in a way. Eden cares for her work, which means she cares for every single person who comes to see her. Something about that makes my heart swell. Especially when I momentarily close my eyes, picturing myself on the platform.
Never in my life have I fantasized about being tied up by a woman and brought to the brink of ecstasy over and over, but all of a sudden, it seems to be doing the trick. Especially when the woman holding the power isher.
“Please,” the woman on the platform cries out, louder this time, and my eyes pop open. Eden smiles wickedly down at her as she says something I can’t hear.
“Yellow,” the woman calls out.
With a patient nod, Eden sets the vibrator down and strokes the woman’s hair. Then she says something to the man in the chair, and with his bottom lip pinched between his teeth, he rises and crosses the room toward them. He’s shirtless, with sculpted pecs and ridged abs. Something about watching him bend down and kiss the woman on the lips makes me miss Clay.
I assume she is his girlfriend or wife. He whispers to her, and Eden stands off to the side to watch. Is this what she does for other couples? Like what she said she does for her friend and his wife? Like some hired tool used to spice up their love life?
Why does that annoy me?
It’s clearly her choice and her job, but the thought of Eden being used like a pawn for other people’s relationships has me fuming and wanting to burst into that room and drag her out.
Who’s spicing upherrelationships? Who’s whispering encouraging words inherear? Who’s checking up onher? Why does she settle for this?
Before I know it, I’m standing in front of the glass, only inches away, far closer than anyone else. And I freeze, the blood draining from my face, when Eden looks up and locks eyes with me.
Can she see me?
I just assumed this glass was like a mirror on one side and a window on the other. But judging by the way she’s gazing wide-eyed directly at me, I think I was wrong.
