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He crooked a finger. “Come here.”
I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. “I’m good.”
“Go on,” Leon pressed his hand into my lower back, pushing me forward. “Learn. Feel everything. He won’t hurt you.”
I tipped my head back, hoping for the answers I needed to see in his face. “How do you know?”
“Because I won’t let him,” he said simply, as if it was that easy.
And maybe it was.
All I had to do was explore. Try new things. If I didn’t like it, I could walk away. That was the deal.
Something told me I might like a little bit of this scary as hell stuff, though, and that might have been the most frightening thing of all. What if it changed how I viewed sex? What if I wanted this...and Leon didn’t?
I ended up taking tiny dolly steps to stand in front of Beau, barely breathing.
“He’ll still want you tomorrow, and every other day.” His lips twitched into an amused smile “If you haven’t figured it out just yet, that man wants to fast forward a few years and put a ring on your finger.”
I blinked up at him. “That’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Perhaps not.” He laughed softly. “Hand out.”
“Are you–”
“Trust me.” He said nothing else, just watched me and waited.
Biting my lip, I nodded, and raised one hand. He drew the flogger back and–
A soft, tickly sensation drifted across my palm, and along the tender oh so sensitive flesh inside my wrist.
“Ohhh,” I sighed as a shiver rippled over me, followed by goosebumps.
“It can feel good, but that can vary. Some people can’t bear to have that sort of soft touch. It almost hurts them, like it’s too hard.” He nodded at my confusion. “Think on that for a little while I warm my girl up. Stay there.” He moved off a few paces and flicked his wrist.
The pretty leather strands sparkled as they cracked against Sylvie’s inner thigh. She jumped, and the sound that tore from her–muffed or not–was the most beautiful moan I’d ever heard.He evened the pink marks rising on her skin with another crack on the other side.
Beau held out the toy in my direction. “Would you like a turn?”
I shook my head and remembered my words. “No, thank you Beau.”
“She calls me sir when we play. Or master,” he murmured absently. “And she wants an audience. Stay there and get all hot and messy for me while I play with her.”
His wrist flicked again, and a pretty pattern of tiny light marks emerged along her inner thighs. As he walked, he pushed the scraps of material from her body, then covered her with a flurry of lashes across her breasts and stomach. Then, as she panted and cried into the gag, he stood behind her and lightly used the tips to slap at her exposed pussy. What could have been cracks softened into a muted sound, and I realised she was dripping.
She wasn’t the only one.
Hands slid under my rib cage, skating up to encompass my breasts. Leon twisted and pinched the tender, budded peaks there until they were almost too sore to play with. My moans began to match Sylvie’s as Beau leaned down and murmured something I couldn't hear to her.
Leon took the opportunity to undo the tie on my top, and the material fell away, leaving me bare from the belly button up. My skirt went next, leaving me in my heels and a thong.
I gasped, my hands rising automatically to cover myself, but he batted them away.
“Let me play.” He drew me back against his bared chest, settling me there as he played with my nipples. Pulling and tugging and teasing, grazing his nails across my breasts until they were flooded with sensation and blood, aching and tingling. I writhed a little against him, and he pushed a knee between mylegs from behind. My body shifted, and he leaned back with me so I could rest there, supported. My legs fell either side of his and as Beau went to town on Sylvie with the flogger that slapped at her wet skin, Leon slid a hand down my front, and cupped between my legs.
It felt alien to be touched in front of anyone else, especially in a situation like this, so different from a casual college three- or four-some. Sylvie’s cried filled the room, my moans mounted by Leon’s touch as well as the entire situation. There was no denying Beau Bennet was a master at his art.
Leon’s grip on my pussy distracted me from everything else going on in the room. Dungeon. He squeezed and pulsed his fingers against my swollen, slicked flesh.
