Chapter 29
Gen
The moment my back hits the cool, smooth surface of the table, I experience another surge in my anticipation levels.
There’s nothing like this.
No feeling in the world that matches it.
My heart rate may be up, but my mind is still and clear.
I’m naked except for my heels, laid out on a table for three fully clad men to enjoy. To worship and debase and command. To wring from my body everything it has. And I know one of them will push me to my limits and orchestrate every touch the other two give me.
And it will be beautiful.
I’ve had this feeling about Anton since I first met him. Not just a strong reaction to his physical attributes, but a reaction to his energy. No one I’ve met or dated or fucked has ever had quite such a strong sense of feral desire concealed beneath cold ruthlessness.
And no matter my distrust of him or my dislike of my reaction to him, I can’t deny there’s no one in whose capable hands I’d rather put my body.
Metaphorically speaking.
I turn my head to the side and watch as he takes me in. His eyes are dark and hungry. He hasn’t commented on what he sees, probably to maintain his dominance, but he doesn’t need to.
There’s not an iota of doubt in my mind as to the effect my naked body and submissive pose is having on him.
He prowls around to the end of the table, to where Max is holding my legs up.
‘Wider,’ he barks, and Max obliges, pushing my legs apart so I’m completely open to him. It’s warm in the room, but the air still feels cool against my exposed pussy.
He can see everything.
The thought inflames me.
The energy of our dynamic rolls through me.
I, of course, hold all the power. I can stop this with a single word. But it’s far more fun for everyone in the room to pretend I’m powerless here. That Anton holds all the cards.
The inconvenient truth is that he does, because I’m completely in his thrall.
In my peripheral vision Anton bends and leans over Max to examine me just as David begins to play with my nipples. He rolls and pulls and pinches, and it feels fucking amazing.
‘Open her up for me,’ Anton tells Max, who slides a couple of fingers to my sensitised folds, parting them.
Anton’s anguished exhale tells me everything I need to know about whether the sight of me has pleased him.
I arch my back into David and Max’s touch, but, really, it’s the heady knowledge that Anton is right there, inspecting every inch of my most intimate areas, that has the desire rolling over me in waves.
My entire pussy feels hot. Needy. Max’s clinical touch isn’t where I want it, but it’s enough to have my flesh begging for more.
‘So fucking sexy, having her wide open for us like this,’ Anton hisses. ‘Look at her clit. It’s so pretty. How does she feel?’
Max continues to hold me open with one hand as he runs another finger over my swollen clit and down through my centre until it’s at my entrance. I suck in a breath at the trail of bliss.
‘Soaked,’ he tells Anton. ‘And soft. Perfect. She’s so ready for my cock.’
‘Not so fast,’ Anton warns, and I realise the sadistic arsehole probably has a grand master plan. ‘Keep her held wide open like this so she feels everything. You’ll be tongue fucking her in a second—’
Yes.
‘—but she doesn’t get anything unless she begs. Genevieve?’ he asks sharply, and I jolt.
‘Yes?’ I ask. David pauses his ministrations on my breasts. Max is still holding me open, but Anton rounds the table so he’s standing opposite David and looks down at me with those dark, heated eyes that drift over my naked body, settling on my face. He rakes his hair off his forehead.
‘You remember how I told you I like my women, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘How do I like them?’
I may be spreadeagled for him, but I muster up every ounce of dignity I possess when I answer him.
‘Debased and begging, I believe.’ I manage a smirk as I finish, and amusement flashes across his face in response.
‘Good girl. And do you know why that is?’
‘Because you’re a narcissistic, power-hungry arsehole who needs to demean women to stave off your own insecurities?’ I guess.
Max laughs from somewhere between my legs.
Anton rewards me with a full-on grin that’s devilishly sexy.
‘Fuck, I knew I liked you. Nice try, gorgeous. I may be all of the above but I actually adore women. And when I see a woman like you, who’s successful and beautiful and uptight as fuck, I know I’m the man to help you unwind.
But I can only do that when you let go’—he leans in closer and enunciates—‘and embrace your shame. It’s only when you give into being dirty and shameless and wanton, and name your desires, and ask for what you need, that you can feel fully liberated. Am I right?’
I lie there and glare at him, because that is way too close to fucking home.
His voice softens. ‘And that’s what I get off on. Seeing you give into the darkest parts of you, and let them out, and go through the fucking roof with pleasure.’
He gives me one more lingering look and turns abruptly away. I’m thinking he may actually be human when I hear his voice turn cold. Authoritative.
‘Now’s the part where she begs.’