SEVENTEEN
Noah
I didn’t want to think about it.
Instead, I turned my attention back to the couple on stage. Travis had hold of Lilith’s head, sawing his dick back and forth, and pumping deep into her mouth. Although her eyes were closed, she seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was.
But the blowjob was quick.
He’d been mostly hard before it had started, and a few strokes was all it took to get him the rest of the way there. Her eyes popped open with surprise when he abruptly retreated. His underwear was pulled back in place, although his dick tented the front, and his feet carried him swiftly to the other end of the bench.
She was bent over it, and, like him, wearing only a pair of underwear, but he looked at the lace now like it offended him. His strong hands clamped down on the pale blue fabric covering her ass, and then he jerked them in opposite directions.
In one swift move, he tore the fabric apart. Threads ripped, the lace shredded, but he continued to pull and stretch until the panties were utterly destroyed. The ruined lace fluttered down her legs.
It was an impressive display of aggression, and he was putting on a show, after all, but I got the feeling that wasn’t his true motivation for doing it.
“Travis, fuck,” she muttered under her breath, trying not to sound annoyed.
This was why he’d done it. He responded to her irritation with a sharp crack of his palm against her newly bare ass. “Ssh.” He spanked her other cheek, this one harder than the last, and then smoothed his palm over the skin. “They were in my way. We don’t want that, do we?”
He spanked her again, and the clap of skin hitting skin echoed in the room. The force behind it was more punishing than I would have expected... as was her response. Her eyes lidded with desire and her lips parted to sip in air. All her irritation was forgotten.
“No,” she murmured. “No, we don’t.”
Christ, she’d said it in the same tone I was sure she used when she begged for something.
He doled out the blows with the same precision he’d used with the crop. Fast, light swats, punctuated with sharp, biting slaps that made her skin flush red. I had to control my breathing so it didn’t go ragged, because this wasn’t supposed to be my first rodeo. I’d seen them perform before.
So why the fuck did it have such a strong effect on me?
I was already sweating inside my suit, and the heat in the room cranked up another fifty degrees when he jerked his underwear down across his thighs and buried himself balls-deep inside her. There’d been no warning, and she gasped with surprise, but a strangled moan came right on its heels when he began to move.
He gripped her hip with one hand, the clasps of her handcuffs in the other, and gave her a hard thrust. The force of it made her entire body jolt from the impact. Then, he fucked her like he couldn’t care less if she enjoyed it.
But I knew the opposite was true, that every beat of this scene had been scripted with her pleasure in mind.
Clay didn’t share the stage with them, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t participating.
When he’d completed the pieces for my friends’ dungeon in New York, I’d gone to his workshop in his house to evaluate the finished products. I’d taken photos before they were boxed up, so we’d know if any damage occurred during shipping.
There’d been a journal open on one of the side tables with sketches of different pieces and lists of materials, but in the margins, he’d scribbled other kinds of notes. I tried not to be nosy, but his shorthand wasn’t hard to decipher. There were detailed plans for scenes, some even included timelines.
He’d been distracted when I’d caught a glance, and because he was so private, I pretended I hadn’t seen a thing. But that journal had been fucking fascinating, and I wondered if he planned all aspects of his life, even his moments with Travis and Lilith.
It was entirely possible this evening’s show was being performed under his direction.
The brutal way Travis moved took a toll on everyone—not just Lilith.
Was he aware when he’d edged her, he’d edged the audience? Our restlessness shifted and tension built, climbing toward release. People wanted to fuck, or wanted to get off, or wanted to make someone else do that. There was a pulse running through us, beating in time with his furious tempo, and then speeding ahead to match her desperate gasps and whimpers of satisfaction.
Charlotte’s legs were crossed, and I noticed the way her thigh muscles tensed. Was she squeezing that muscle deep inside her to give her a hit of pleasure?
When I thought about touching her, the warning in my head stayed quiet this time. Perhaps it had been destroyed in the heat of this night, burned away. I leaned over until my shoulder touched hers and brought my mouth close.
“Would you like me,” I whispered, “to do you another favor tonight?”
She didn’t take her gaze off the couple on stage, but she didn’t need to. I felt the shudder roll through her shoulders and heard the enormous breath she pulled in. She liked my offer very much .
She pressed her shoulder back against mine and lifted her chin, turning her head toward mine, while still keeping her gaze fixed on the bench like a diehard voyeur. “Only if I get to do you a favor too.”
Warmth raced through me. “What a hard bargain you drive.”
I showed her I agreed to her terms by placing my hand on her thigh. I didn’t ask if she was okay with me touching her, because I’d gotten ahead of myself, but as I suspected, she was okay with it.
More than okay, because as soon as she registered what I’d done, she uncrossed her legs and pulled my hand up so it rested on her inner thigh just beneath her skirt. The action made my head cloud with smoke.
Shit, she was dangerously confident and sexy.
When she’d texted me the picture earlier tonight, I’d cursed her short skirt. It was so teasing and... tempting. Maybe I would have been better at keeping my hands to myself if she’d worn pants, but honestly? They probably wouldn’t have been a deterrent. They’d only have slowed us down.
I didn’t move my hand when it was nestled between her legs. Just the heat of it against her smooth, warm skin was enough. Plus, she didn’t need the reminder—we were both well aware of its location.
The violent slaps of Travis’s hips against Lilith’s ass were staccato and relentless. When he let go of the wrists he’d been holding behind her back, he latched a hand in her hair, gripping close to the scalp at the top of her head. It was so he could pull her up off the bench, making her arch like a bow.
Her tits bounced with his rough thrusts, and her moans swelled, signaling to everyone that she was close. Maybe only seconds away from losing control. He used his hold on her hair to turn her face toward the audience.
Fucking her like this was a workout, and he asked it through his labored breaths. “Are you going to come?”
“ Yes ,” she gasped.
“Yeah? Show us,” he demanded.
It wasn’t clear if he meant him and Clay... or the audience, but she showed everyone anyway. Her mouth dropped open, rounding with a silent ‘ oh ,’ and a full body shudder washed through her. He kept pounding into her throughout her orgasm, and the sight of this explosion of pleasure snapped the last of the control in me.
I moved my fingers on the hand wedged between Charlotte’s thighs, just a little, but it was more than enough to draw a reaction from her, even though I was still a few inches from her pussy. Her tiny gasp was nearly drowned out by the loud moans coming from Lilith, but I heard it.
A lick of heat jolted through me, and the swelling in my pants intensified. I was sporting a semi and had to shift uncomfortably in my seat to try to keep it from getting any worse.
On stage, Lilith was still in the throes of her orgasm when Travis’s seemed to start. Both of his hands moved to latch on to her shoulders and hold her at that angle for his final few thrusts, and then quickly ease her back down onto the bench so she didn’t slam into the pad.
He pulled out, dropping his wet, fat dick on her ass, sandwiching it between her cheeks, and used his hands to push her cheeks together. A single glide back and forth was all he needed to finish himself off.
As he came, the muscles in his chest and arms corded like steel. His cum splattered across her back and bound hands in ribbons, and she gasped appreciatively.
Like she enjoyed it.
Like he’d rewarded her.
The crowd had been buzzing, but as he slowed to a stop, a hush fell over the room. The only movement was the heavy rise and fall of his chest, while he worked to catch his breath.
He took a half step back, tugged his underwear back up, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Before he’d finished collecting himself, there was movement in the front row.
It was Clay. He stepped up onto the stage carrying Travis’s suit coat folded neatly over one arm and slipped his hand into the interior pocket. A handkerchief was retrieved and passed to Travis, who used it to wipe at the mess on Lilith’s hands.
The scene was winding down and some of the audience stood, making their way to the door, and they seemed to be led by the couple who’d been sitting beside me. The woman had made a beeline for the exit, probably in a big hurry to get upstairs and get their clothes off.
Charlotte and I stayed.
Maybe it was because I wanted to see the full conclusion to the scene. Or maybe it was because I couldn’t get my damn hand to move away from her.
So we remained watching as a lot of other people filed out. Travis finished cleaning Lilith up, undid the clasps of her cuffs, and helped her to stand. She turned to face Clay, who stepped between her and the audience’s view, then draped Travis’s coat over her shoulders. He worked to undo the buckles on her wrists while his partner focused on her ankles.
They were so tender and caring with each other, the sexual energy in the room faded. The atmosphere was too personal, too intimate. We’d watched them get naked, play, and fuck, but this quiet moment after?
It felt weirdly intrusive.
Charlotte must have sensed it too, because she glanced at me and looked like she was about to say something.
I beat her to it, though, and gestured to her now-empty drink. “C’mon,” I said softly. “Let’s get another round.”
When she nodded, it disrupted the spell enough that I was finally able to pull my hand away from her. But as we moved for the door, I felt the touch of her lingering on my skin. There was a craving in me to get her back in my hands as soon as possible.
We weren’t the only ones who’d decided to grab drinks after the show, which meant the bar was crowded and we had to stand close together while waiting our turn to order—but I wasn’t complaining. With her heeled boots, she was almost as tall as I was, and we fit together nicely in the cramped space.
“What’s the plan after we get our drinks?” Her voice turned sultry. “Are we going into one of the private rooms so you can do me that favor?”
I’d been trying to get the bartender’s attention, but now she had mine and I turned to look at her. “You like watching,” I said. “So I thought we could go upstairs,” I ran my heated gaze over her for emphasis, “where clothing is optional for everyone.”
Her smile started slowly and built. “Yeah. Definitely.” She looked so excited about it, I half expected her to say she wanted to forget about the drinks and head up there right now.
But I needed to slow her down, and my expression turned serious. “There are some things we have to talk about first.”
Worry flashed through her eyes at the same moment the bartender appeared. I put in our order, and she waited impatiently for him to leave and start making our drinks before she could ask it. “Talk about what?”
I went with the easiest question first. “How do you think you’d feel about being watched?”
This wasn’t what she’d expected, and it took her a long moment to consider it. And then she blinked, and it looked like she was holding in a laugh. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. You haven’t figured out that I’m kind of an attention whore?”
Shit, she was right. Charlotte had been the center of her parents’ universe growing up, and the goal for her now was to build a channel that got as many eyeballs as possible.
She thrived on attention.
Could the same be said of me?
In certain settings, yeah. Not as much with my family, but with my career. When I’d executed a major trade or negotiated a big deal, I made sure my name was all over it. And in the bedroom, I fucking loved being watched. Even if the woman’s partner didn’t want to see or be in the room during, I knew they’d be talking about me after the deed was done. That gave me a dark satisfaction.
Oh, man. Maybe I was an even bigger attention whore than Charlotte.
After I paid for our drinks and we’d collected them, I turned to survey the room.
“Was that all you wanted to talk about?” She asked it innocently, but there was an edge of impatience beneath it. She was eager to get upstairs.
“No.” I found what I was looking for and pointed to the empty table near the dance floor. The music was loud here, but not too loud to talk over, and if we went anywhere quieter in the club, it was likely we’d both get too distracted.
She shuffled begrudgingly to the table, and I had to hide my chuckle behind a sip of my drink. Her pouty attitude shouldn’t have been a turn-on, but it fucking was.
We set our drinks on the tabletop that was lit with a single flameless candle, but when she moved to take a seat, I stopped her.
“I don’t want to be friends anymore,” I announced.
She jolted with surprise and immediately looked distraught. “What? Why?”
My heart went out of rhythm because there was no turning back. I got the same rush I did when buying a risky stock. The unknown was exciting, full of promise and danger.
Goddamn, she was pretty. I reached out to trace a fingertip over her forehead and down the side of her face, brushing her hair out of my way. The action stunned her perfectly still, so I had to curl my fingers beneath her chin and pull her mouth toward mine.
She’d asked why we couldn’t be friends anymore, and the words tumbled freely from my lips. “Because I want to do this.”
And then I pressed my mouth to hers in a searing kiss.