Chapter 19 Velvet Trap #3
She glanced at Dom. Seeking permission even though the question had been directed at her. Dom gave a slight nod.
“Yes, Sir,” she said to Harrow. Sank to her knees in front of him.
Harrow finished undressing while she worked his belt open. His body was lean, maintained through discipline rather than vanity. When his cock sprang free—thick and already hard—the blonde took him into her mouth without hesitation.
Harrow's hand moved to her hair. Gentle at first. Then firmer. Guiding her rhythm with the same controlled authority Dom had displayed.
“That's good,” Harrow murmured. “Very good. You know how to please a man.”
His eyes stayed on Dom even as the woman worked him. Watching. Measuring Dom's reaction.
Dom moved to the restrained woman on the bench. The young man had pulled out, spent and breathing hard. She was still bound. Still desperate. Dom positioned himself between her spread legs. His hand slid between her thighs. Testing. Finding her wet and ready.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, Sir, I need—”
Dom didn't make her finish. Just lowered his mouth to her sex and started working her with tongue and lips that made her cry out immediately.
I watched him through the crowd, my professional detachment crumbling as I saw the way he licked through her folds, sucking at her most sensitive parts, using his fingers to stretch her open while his mouth did devastating things.
Her thighs shook on either side of his head, her cries growing more desperate with each pass of his tongue.
“Fuck,” she gasped. “Oh god, please, Sir, please—”
Dom pulled back. His mouth glistened. “Not yet. You come when I say.”
She whimpered. Desperate. Needy. Her hips trying to chase his mouth.
Harrow was watching Dom too. His hips rolling forward into the blonde woman's mouth. His breathing had changed. Gone heavier with arousal.
“He's magnificent, isn't he?” Harrow said. Loud enough for Dom to hear. Loud enough to make it clear the comment was meant to be heard. “The control. The precision. Rare to see someone who understands power so completely.”
Dom didn't respond. Just went back to eating the woman out with focus that made her thighs shake violently. I could see his tongue working, see the way he held her open, see the muscles in his jaw flex as he devoured her.
The woman who'd been helping came with a loud cry, her own pleasure triggered by watching Dom work. The restrained woman followed seconds later, screaming Dom's name as her body convulsed against the restraints.
Harrow pulled the blonde woman off his cock. Guided her to stand. “Go play with the others,” he said, voice rough with arousal. “I want to try something different.”
She obeyed. Moved toward a cluster of people near the wall who were engaged in their own tangle of bodies.
Harrow's attention fixed fully on Dom now. He moved closer, confident, predatory. “May I join you?”
Dom stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cock was still hard, jutting forward, demanding attention. He considered Harrow for a long moment.
“Show me what you can do,” Dom said finally.
They moved together toward the red-haired woman near the wall. She was on her back, legs spread, being pleasured by another woman while a man fucked the woman from behind. The scene was already heated, bodies moving in rhythm.
My chest tightened watching them approach together. Dom and Harrow. Both naked now. Both hard. Both moving like predators who'd found shared prey.
Harrow positioned himself between the red-haired woman's legs. Dom took her mouth. The coordination was wordless, instinctive—two dominants who understood how to share space without competing.
Harrow entered her slowly. His cock disappearing inch by inch into her welcoming heat. His eyes never left Dom's face. Testing. Watching for reaction.
Dom kissed the red-haired woman. Deep and filthy. His hand moved to her breast. Squeezing. Pinching her nipple until she moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by his tongue.
“That's good,” Harrow said, his hips starting to move. “Make her desperate for us.”
Dom pulled back from the kiss. Looked at Harrow with an expression I couldn't read from my position in the shadows. Then he leaned in.
And kissed Harrow.
The world tilted.
Dom's mouth on Harrow's. Tongue visible between their lips. Harrow's hand coming up to grip Dom's jaw. Holding him in place while they kissed with heat that looked too real, too intense to be pure performance.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think past the image burning into my photographic memory where it would live forever in perfect, agonising detail.
This was performance. Had to be performance. Dom playing the role. Selling the illusion. Making Harrow believe he was wanted. Desired.
But it looked real. Felt real from where I stood, my hands fisting at my sides, the man behind me forgotten as jealousy took over me.
Harrow broke the kiss first. “Magnificent,” he breathed against Dom's mouth. “Absolutely magnificent. We should do this more often.”
Dom's expression was unreadable. He turned back to the red-haired woman. Kissed her instead, his hand moving between her legs to find her swollen center. Reclaiming territory. Reasserting control over the scene.
Harrow fucked her with increasing intensity. His rhythm building. The woman was making sounds—high and desperate—as two men used her for their pleasure, as Dom's fingers worked her expertly.
“Make her come,” Harrow ordered, his voice strained. “I want to feel her clench around my cock.”
Dom obliged. Worked her center with devastating skill, his fingers circling and pressing until her back arched off the floor. Within seconds she was screaming, coming hard enough that her whole body convulsed.
Harrow groaned. Thrust deep. Held there while he spilled inside her, his face showing pleasure that was raw and unguarded. For that moment, the prosecutor's mask slipped completely, revealing the man underneath.
Dom pulled back. Stood. His cock was still hard, still demanding attention he hadn't given it. His gaze swept the room and found mine.
I was still clothed, still pressed against the wall by the man who'd been touching me, still trying to process what I'd just witnessed.
Harrow pulled out of the red-haired woman with deliberate slowness. Grabbed a towel someone offered. Cleaned himself with casual efficiency, his movements unhurried, satisfied.
“That was exceptional,” he said to Dom, pulling his clothes back on piece by piece. “Truly. We should do this again. Privately. I think we could create something remarkable together.”
Dom's jaw tightened fractionally. “Maybe.”
“I'll make it worth your while.” Harrow was almost fully dressed now, putting his armor back on. “Both professionally and personally. I have resources that could benefit someone with your particular talents.”
He moved back toward his corner. Sat down. Returned to observer mode like the last twenty minutes hadn't happened, like he hadn't just fucked someone while kissing the man investigating him.
Dom's gaze stayed on me. He crossed the room with purposeful strides, his body still gleaming with sweat, his cock still hard and demanding.
The man behind me felt Dom's approach and wisely stepped back, releasing me.
Dom's hand fisted in my hair through the mask. Pulled me away from the wall with force that made my pulse spike.
“Come with me,” he said. Not a request.
He led me to a more isolated corner, away from Harrow's direct sightline but still visible to the room. His hand stayed in my hair, grip possessive and tight.
“Strip,” he commanded. Voice carrying just enough to be heard. “Everything except the mask.”
My hands moved to obey before conscious thought could catch up. I shed the leather harness first. Then my shirt. My trousers. Everything falling away until I stood naked, my cock jutting forward, hard and obvious.
Dom's eyes raked over me with heat that looked real enough to burn. “On your knees.”
I dropped. The floor was hard beneath my knees but I barely felt it, too focused on Dom towering over me, his cock level with my face.
“Open,” he commanded.
I did. He guided his cock to my mouth, let me take just the head, then stopped me with a hand in my hair.
“Slow,” he said. “Make me work for it.”
I hollowed my cheeks. Took him deeper inch by inch. His taste flooded my mouth—salt and musk and something uniquely Dom. My own cock throbbed untouched, leaking, desperate for friction I wasn't allowed to seek.
Dom's hips started moving. Shallow thrusts. Testing my limits. I relaxed my throat, took him deeper, let him use my mouth while I stayed perfectly still.
“Fuck,” he breathed. His grip tightened in my hair. “Look at you. So good for me. Taking everything I give you.”
The praise made heat pool in my stomach, made my cock leak steadily against my thigh. Around us, people watched. I could feel their attention even with my focus completely on Dom.
He pulled out suddenly. His cock wet and hard, bobbing in front of my face.
“Stand up. Bend over that table.”
I obeyed. The table was waist-height, perfect for what he intended. I braced my hands on the surface, bent at the waist, presented myself for whatever he wanted.
Dom's hand came down on my arse. Hard enough to sting. Hard enough to make me gasp and my cock jump.
“Count,” he ordered.
“One,” I managed. “Thank you, Sir.”
The second strike landed. Then the third. Dom built rhythm with the same precision he'd used on the restrained woman earlier. Each impact perfectly placed.
By strike fifteen, I was shaking. Hard enough to hurt, desperate enough that if he'd asked me to beg, I would have.
Dom's hand smoothed over my abused skin. Gentle after violence. “Good,” he murmured, loud enough for nearby watchers to hear. “So fucking good for me.”
His fingers pressed against my entrance. Dry. Just pressure and promise that made my breath catch.