Chapter Twenty #3
Victor stood and flipped his jewel over the table.
Without any touching or teasing, he kicked her legs apart, unzipped his pants, then sank his hard length deep inside her.
Some Masters ordered their jewels to go to the rack and bring back a whip, chains, or plugs.
Others took them face down on the floor with vicious pumps.
The entire gazebo became a mismatch of dinner party and orgy, led by Peter and Corine as their thrusts grew frantic and frenzied. Peter cursed and roared. Corine moaned and begged. They rode each other, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them as Henri sank a single finger inside me.
Good God.
My vision shot white as my body clamped down on his invasion.
“Jesus Christ,” he grunted, inserting a second finger.
My entire body went floppy and rigid at the same time.
Why?
Why did he have to affect me so much?
Why did he have this power over me?
It felt so good.
Too good.
Better than any touch from any other man in my life.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to slap his hand away or open my legs and beg for more.
Panting hard, he feathered his touch inside me, stretching me in so many indecent ways. His breath gusted hotly. “Why you, huh? Why?”
The fact that his questions matched mine.
The fact that neither of us had answers for this...for us...scrambled my mind and unchained all my inhibitions.
I forgot about where we were.
I forgot about fear and bargains.
My world narrowed to just him.
Him and his pumping fingers.
With a moan, I spread a little wider. My head fell backward onto his shoulder as his fingers drove deep, deep inside me. I didn’t think about acting or secrets. I didn’t think at all.
“You’re making me exist in a nightmare,” he groaned. “A nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from.”
“Then stay asleep,” I whispered, closing my eyes on the horrible scene before me and concentrating only on him. Just him. I shuddered as he hooked his touch, stroking me, withdrawing, then plunging hard.
It felt good. Bad. Wrong. Perfect.
He choked on a breath. “I can’t decide if I’m fucking jealous of him or turned on knowing you’re this wet from watching.”
Before I could reply, he ran his nose down my neck.
“Did you talk to him?” He inhaled me. “I know you showered my cum off you. You don’t smell like me anymore, which drives me fucking insane.
You disobeyed me once, so...did you disobey me twice?
” His fingers speared quick and punishing.
“Did you speak to him when I told you to stay mute? Did you spill all my secrets?”
I should be afraid.
I should be normal and sensible and stop this.
Yet I had absolutely no strength to reach for sanity.
I was tired.
Exhausted.
I just wanted to be free, and for a few blissful seconds while he touched me...I soared.
I gasped as my core clenched around his fingers, a ripple of intensity climbing a hill of bliss.
He groaned and bit my ear. “Fuck, could you come like this? Here? With me?”
In another world, on another day, I would turn around and slap him for even suggesting I was such a heathen. But on this day, in this nightmare, I merely gave in to the game between us and nodded.
“Christ, Ily.” His teeth sank into my neck. His fingers drove deeper, claiming everything.
I cried out.
I squirmed.
“You’re making this impossible for me, little nightmare. Impossible to stay good.”
Those words sank into my blood and corrupted me.
Changed me.
No one overheard us.
No one watched us.
I didn’t know how this had happened.
How we became so lost.
Lost in each other.
My hips rocked on their own accord.
His rocked against my spine.
My insides melted.
His breath quickened.
I lost utter control.
Shielded by the dark, dazed with lack of sleep, and lightheaded from hunger—everything was too much. Everything was a dream, a nightmare, an illusion. Fear turned to recklessness; terror turned to madness.
And Henri was the monster in the dark making my descent into hell feel oh-so good.
“More,” I sighed. “I want...I need—”
“Don’t,” he choked. “Don’t do this to me.”
My core quivered around his thick fingers.
He hissed hot and sharp. “Merde, à chaque fois que tu contactes, ca me donne envie d'être en toi.” (Shit, every time you clench, it makes me wish I was inside you.)
Memories of him inside me earlier today smothered my mind. The pleasure I’d felt as my body liquefied and accepted him. I’d been unsatisfied and unfinished. I’d been taken ruthlessly without any finesse, but the ache he’d left me with had lasted all afternoon.
That ache became pure suffering now; I moaned for him to put me out of my misery.
He was the only one who could give me this. The man who’d smuggled me into a sex ring and made me actually want it.
“Do it,” I breathed. “Please...”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.” His whisper was torn and broken. “You don’t know what this is doing to me.” His voice added richer fire to my blood. His hand on my breast, his fingers inside me.
I sat like a marionette on his lap, prone for his pleasure.
I’d never thought I was a sexual person. I’d tolerated sex with Samuel, but he was my first and only. I’d never come with him. Never knew it could be this, this...intense.
The longer Henri’s touch pulsed inside me, the more I only cared about one thing.
Peter was right.
Beneath all my prim layers and proper upbringing, something rebellious lurked. A sinful little creature completely obsessed with the magic spooling tighter and hotter in my lower belly, twisting and braiding, burning brighter with every thrust of his fingers.
“Please...” I stretched against Henri’s chest, doing the unthinkable.
I surrendered because I had no choice.
I begged because I needed.
I gave everything to him, hoping he’d give me himself in return. “Please.”
Henri cursed blackly as he plunged a third finger inside me. “You’re fucking killing me.” Biting my throat, he sank his canines into my flesh as his fingers speared possessively deep. “You want this? You want me?” His hold on me turned primitive. “Be careful what you wish for.”
I cried out as he fisted my breast and stroked my G-spot.
I didn’t even know where that damn spot was until he touched it.
I almost launched off his lap from the intensity.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Bright light and stars.
Delirious pressure and promises of exploding.
I moaned.
“Merde, you have got to stop. We shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. Fuck, he’ll kill me if I lose control.” His whispers sent fire and hissing flames through blood.
Who would kill him? His captain? Other superiors?
Would they know he touched me? That this little pantomime exceeded our agreed upon script? We didn’t have to do this. Everyone was busy with other pursuits. No judging eyes. No careful watching.
We had a reprieve from acting, and yet...we threw ourselves deeper into sin.
I climbed higher.
I clenched tighter.
“I should stop. I need to stop. I shouldn’t. Fuck, I...I can’t stop. I—” His hips arched up, driving his erection against my ass at the same time his fingers withdrew, then plunged back inside me. “Fuck it. Come, Ily. Fucking come all over my goddamn hand. Do it. Do it before I change my mind.”
I soared higher.
I prickled with sweat and savage seduction.
Yes...more.
Give me more.
As if we had a telepathic bond, Henri thrust his fingers in the age-old rhythm of mating.
I followed his pace. I wound a little tighter. I reached for the precipice to fall.
My eyes shot open as I hovered in absolute rapture.
On stage, Peter continued to fuck Corine. His hands clamped on her hips, driving hard and fast into her. He fucked with temper and the same angry helplessness that lived within him.
I felt sorry for him. Turned on by him. Tortured because of him.
His head turned as if he felt me watching. His eyes searched the darkness.
His thrusts jerked as our gazes locked across the room. Me spread and about to shatter on Henri’s lap. My Master’s hand plunging wickedly between my legs. And my cheeks wet with fresh tears that I didn’t remember crying.
Tears that were part purge, part ruination.
Tears that Henri hadn’t noticed...until he did.
“Goddammit, you’re crying. Don’t. Ah, fuck—”
With an animalistic roar, he tore his fingers out of me and shoved me cruelly off his lap.
I fell unceremoniously to the floor. Hard and jumbled, I cried out as every part of my body throbbed with hypersensitivity and bruising, throbbing desire.
So close.
I’d been so close.
Frustrated quakes pulsed through me.
My core hovered on the edge, desperate to tumble over but needing that final push.
I trembled with frustration, but then I blinked, and reality slammed back.
Back into a gazebo full of rutting, rancid men.
Back into hell.
Humiliation crushed me to the floor.
I pressed both hands against my belly and fought the urge to scream.
What the hell were you thinking!?
Henri groaned and stabbed his elbows onto the table. Raking both hands through his hair, he smeared my arousal through his short strands.
He didn’t speak as his entire body wracked with guilt.
Guilt for touching me.
Guilt because none of this was okay.
My heart shrivelled with shame. All I wanted to do was hide, but...I couldn’t let him hate himself.
Guilt smeared both of us.
I’d encouraged him.
I’d used him to forget, and now I’d ruined everything.
Not caring if anyone saw, I touched his thigh.
He acted as if I’d shot him.
Snapping in half, he folded over me and snatched my hair. His nose grazed mine. His lips a feather away from kissing me. “I need you to get the fuck away from me, but there’s nowhere safe to send you. I need to fuck you so fucking badly, but if I do—”
“Did I just overhear you say the word fuck?” Charles groaned, his eyes closed, enjoying his blowjob. “Go on. Do it. I want to watch. That finger-fucking you gave her looked delightful.” He winked at me. “Did you come like a good girl? Did you thank your Master for being nice to you?”
My cheeks blazed.
Henri bared his teeth.