Chapter 20
The sweet aroma of cigars drifted through the space that could only be described as elaborate…
or decadently sensual from the candlelight that washed the room in a soft glow.
This was not a basement, but a huge circle of a room, and Gage and I stood at the edge.
Directly in the center sat a group of people, unsurprisingly in a circle.
The men relaxed in chairs, their formal attire in various stages of undress as they talked, drank, and smoked.
The five women I’d met earlier in the evening kneeled at their feet, sans their masks.
Blondie was completely naked, and her husband had gagged her mouth.
Tears lingered on her long lashes, and I wondered what she’d done to earn the punishment of silence.
To their left, Mr. Davenport puffed on a cigar, his legs spread to accommodate his wife’s bobbing head.
He helped her along, his fingers sifting through her sleek hair.
He downright petted her as she sucked him with lazy strokes of her slurping mouth.
The other three women kneeled like Blondie, only none of them were entirely naked.
The girl who’d worn a white gown earlier now sported thigh-highs and nothing else.
Pixie Girl was trussed up in shibari that concealed her private areas in the intricate design.
The rope wound around her breasts, torso, and limbs in gorgeous weaving.
She was bound to the spot, unable to rise to her feet with the way her arms and had been tied behind her, wrists connected to ankles.
The fifth woman wore only nipple clamps, and I resisted the urge to cover my breasts at the sight.
Clenching the chain between her teeth, she tensed her jaw as she struggled to pull on the clamps.
I watched her in morbid curiosity, wondering if she wanted the extra pain that pulling on that chain caused, or if she was yanking on it because the alternative would be worse.
What would happen if she let it slip from her mouth?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
This place set me on edge, and not because it was home to displays of painful implements or torture stockades. Rather, the understated deviance in the room unsettled me to the bone.
Gage tugged on my hand, and as I followed him to the circle, I couldn’t take my eyes off the two beds situated opposite each other across the room, with their canopies draped in gossamer gold.
Those beds weren’t made for privacy; they’d been set up as a stage for fucking, sitting high atop platforms that necessitated a five stair climb just to reach them.
Love seats and chairs surrounded each platform, inviting the remaining couples to watch… or join in on the fun.
My stomach wanted to take a dive at that disturbing realization, but all I had to do was remind myself of Gage’s possessiveness, and the fact that he’d promised no one but him would touch me.
“Welcome to the circle,” the men chorused in sync as if they’d rehearsed that greeting.
Mr. Davenport, regardless of having his wife’s mouth wrapped around his cock, leaned forward slightly. “The floor is yours,” he told Gage.
“Thank you.” Gage came to a stop and gently pushed on my shoulders, telling me without words to kneel.
My body obeyed, practically on auto-pilot, and the position put me at eye level with his hard-on. God, how I wanted to unzip him and take a page from Virginia Davenport’s book. The woman’s escalating moans as she feasted on her husband’s cock did funny things to my insides.
“I need to go over one important ground rule,” Gage said, his voice echoing through the room for all to hear. He grabbed my hair as if to ready me for a good mouth-fucking. “No one touches what’s mine.”
“Understood,” someone said.
With a nod, Gage let me go. “It’s time to disrobe,” he said as my hair slid through his fingers.
I trudged to the center, watching as Gage settled into the only available seat in the circle, and slowly brought my hands to the front of the peignoir.
The sheer fabric grazed my nipples, making my cheeks flush with awareness, and as I opened the material I imagined his mouth nipping at my breasts.
I nearly moaned at the thought as the garment slipped from my shoulders and drifted to the hardwood under my bare feet.
“Good girl. Now turn around so everyone can see what’s mine.”
I made a slow circle, taking in the features of the men more closely than before.
And while their eyes were on my erect nipples, I cataloged each couple.
Blondie’s husband was on the husky side, his shirt unbuttoned and pants undone.
Pixie’s man was as tall as Gage. His red hair was his most arresting feature; it was on the longer side, unruly and entirely sexy.
The remaining men had classic dark good looks, but I found nothing interesting or special about them.
“Kayla?”
“Yes, Master?” I said, whirling back to Gage.
“Crawl to me.”
And here came the real test. As soon as I got down on all fours, everyone would see how wet I was between my thighs.
I wasn’t sure why, but I found revealing my arousal more distressing than stripping in front of these people.
I had no authority over the nakedness of my body, but my drenched pussy…
I wished to be able to control that more than anything.
As I made my way across the floor to where Gage waited, I sensed five pairs of eyes on my ass—possibly even more if the women watched as well.
He pulled the rope from his pocket and looped it through the discreet ring in my infinity collar, effectively leashing me with the rope I’d worn on my body all evening.
“Unzip me,” he commanded.
That’s when I hesitated, and not because I fretted over what he planned to do with me, but hell…I didn’t want those women ogling my husband’s cock. Fierce possessiveness rose in me, pumping blood through my system in pulsing bursts.
How could he stand those men’s eyes on me? Especially with how jealous and possessive he was?
“Do I need to spank you?”
“No, Master,” I said, reaching for his pants and freeing the button. As I pulled down his zipper, it dawned on me why Gage wasn’t bothered by the prying eyes of other men. He was in control here, and they could look until their eyes fell out of their heads, but they couldn’t touch.
The same could be said for the women. Mine, I mentally chanted as I parted his pants and revealed his cock, beaming with pride that I could call it mine.
No other woman would come near it again.
They’d have to get past my flying fist first. I balled my hands, darting my tongue over my lips to wet them as I gawked at my husband’s impressive erection.
“Do you want me in your mouth?” He lifted his head, a sparkle in his gaze. “Davenport’s slave seems to be enjoying the task.”
I couldn’t see the other couple, but I heard him chuckle over his wife’s moaning.
“Yes, Master.” The need to please him clawed at my composure. He had me too worked up, too wet at the epicenter of my depraved core. He’d managed to break me down like this in a mere day—to this desperate thing that would strip in front of strangers and beg to suck his cock.
Gage was a fucking sorcerer. I could come up with no other explanation.
“Baby, what if I don’t want my cock in your mouth right now?” He withdrew a travel-sized packet of lube. “What if I want it someplace else?”
Cringing, I grabbed his knees for support. “As you w-wish, Master.”
“Kayla,” he murmured, tilting my chin up, “stand up and grab your ankles.”
I pushed off his knees and stood on gelatinous limbs, and as I turned around to do his bidding, I found the others watching with appreciation and desire in their eyes.
They were getting off on this voyeuristic showcase.
Would watching these men dominate their wives get Gage hot and bothered as well?
Would witnessing such sinful behavior get me off?
Listening to Virginia’s moans had hit my bullseye, but only because I’d envied her at that moment. Fuck, I still did, considering that packet of lube and what it was obviously intended for.
I bent and grasped my ankles, and blood rushed to my head as Gage inched out the dry plug. He took extra time with the removal, being careful not to hurt me upon the toy’s exit. Then I heard him tear into that packet, and between my spread thighs, I watched him lube his cock.
“You’re going to sit your pretty ass onto my cock while we watch the show.
” He grabbed my hips and yanked me toward his lap, and I planted my hands on my knees to steady me.
I tensed, body already fighting the intrusion of his shaft inside my tight hole, but he didn’t bring me down onto him like I thought he would.
Quick and brutal, and powerless to stop him.
“Take me in as slow as you need to,” he instructed, shocking me with his unexpected gift of control.
Holding onto the arms of the chair, I pressed onto his cock and willed my body to stretch around the intrusion.
Minutes passed as I carefully worked him inside my ass, my knuckles going white even as I relaxed the muscles below my waist. Accepting his length and girth into my backdoor was a tall order, but I wasn’t there yet, so I thrust downward and impaled myself fully.
A gasp stalled in my lungs, and I held my breath for a few moments until I grew accustomed to the fullness in my ass.
“So good,” he groaned into my ear. “Just sit like this for a while and watch.”
His tone had a drugging effect on me. Or maybe it was his cock laying claim to my ass, but my belly heated, and my head spun with disorienting wooziness. Lifting heavy lids, I watched the going-ons happening inside the circle of this lair in a fog-like state.
Pixie had been released from her restraints, and now she sat on her husband’s lap and rode him, her hips lowering her onto his cock over and over again.
Mr. Davenport yanked his wife’s head up with an uncompromising fist in her hair.
“You haven’t earned the privilege of getting me off yet.”
She whimpered her disappointment.
“You’re out of line, slave.” His harsh voice stunned me, as did the way he addressed her. “You don’t decide when I come down your throat. I do.” Without further discussion, he pulled her head back into his lap and returned to sipping his drink.
The man to his left laughed, and they resumed their quiet conversation about stocks or some other crap I had no interest in listening to.
My attention veered to Blondie again, who’d switched positions with her husband.
She reclined in the seat with her legs bent and feet on the chair’s arms, knees spread wide.
Her man stood before her, rubbing his chin as he watched her touch herself.
His right arm dangled at his side, hand clenching a belt.
And now I understood why he’d gagged her. Even with her mouth full of rubber, her shrieks bounced off the walls. How the fuck did she manage to make so much noise behind that gag?
He brought his belt down on the rapid movement of her fingers. “No orgasms!” he hollered. “You took it without asking, and now you need to pay. Isn’t that right?”
She nodded, but her whine indicated she felt differently about her husband’s methods of punishing her.
Just as Blondie’s Master ordered her to touch herself again, Gage yanked on the rope attached to my collar.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “I want you to feel only me right now. They can watch all they want, but you’ll feel and listen to only me. ”
“Yes, Master.” My words were but a whisper, my body but a vessel for Gage to own. He pulled my head back until I reclined against his chest.
“Touch yourself,” he said, placing his hands on my hips and lifting. As I buried my fingers between my thighs, he moved me up and down the entire length of his cock, sliding in and out of my ass with surprising ease.
And he was launching me to new heights, to the realm of ecstasy he’d teased me with all day.
My fingers practically spasmed over my clit. “Can I come, Master?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Tell me how good my cock feels in your ass.” He pushed in again, drawing a long shuddering moan from between tight lips.
“So fucking good, Master. Please let me come.”
“Does it bother you that everyone here knows what a dirty girl you are?”
“No,” I breathed, ten seconds away from exploding. Nothing mattered except the friction between our bodies and the trust flowing between our hearts.
Gage nipped at my earlobe, and his voice dipped low so only I could hear him. “You’ve made me so damn proud. Baby, come for me.”
I’d never heard sweeter words.