Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
Isla
Dorian’s threat galvanizes me. No doubt he’d enjoy seeing others look at my naked sex.
Brennan leans back, arms crossed, watching with a predator’s patience.
My fingers wavering, I struggle to remove my underwear.
Once I have, he takes them from my grasp and leans across the table to offer the scrap of fabric to Brennan.
For a moment, he holds them. “She is a little liar, isn’t she?” Then he slips the satiny lace into his pocket.
“You’re such a good girl.”
I could exist off Dorian’s words of approval, and I hate that.
“I’m sure her breasts have to feel very confined, with her lower body being all-but naked.” Even though Brennan’s speaking to Dorian, he’s looking at me.
“No.” I shake my head.
“How remiss of me.”
“I’m fine,” I protest. “Honestly. ”
But Dorian has already risen, and he offers his hand to me. “Come with me.”
Scandalized, I accept, and he possessively closes his fingers around mine as he guides me to my feet.
My legs tremble, and I roll my shoulders back a little as I tug my dress back into place. The hemline had seemed outrageously short earlier, but now I’m desperate for even that tiny amount of coverage.
Thankfully he allows me that small modesty.
As he guides me toward the far corner of the dining room, I’m conscious of how tight the collar is around my throat. I’m sure everyone is staring at me, knowing that Dorian has staked his claim as my master, my owner.
We reach the ladies’ room, and he follows me inside, locking the door behind him with a sharp click.
When he turns to me, his gray eyes are smoldering. “Take off your dress, Isla.” He comes closer to trace my collarbone with a lover’s caress. “Let me see you.”
“I—”
He turns me so quickly that my breath freezes. Then he slams me up against the tile wall.
“Dorian!”
In an instant, my dress is around my waist once more.
My jaw drops, but my protest dies as his touch ignites my skin.
He leans in, wedging his hard, massive cock between my buttocks. “You will learn to do what I say, when I say it.”
The mirrors around us throw back my reflection and his. I’m flushed, with my hair wild around me, but his eyes are ravenous.
Keeping one palm against the center of my spine, he steps back a little to give my ass a hard spank.
“Fuck.”
“Are you complaining? ”
He gives me a second stroke, this one even harder.
“You can’t do this in public!”
“I believe I can. There’s not a person in this place that would come to save you.” He leans in and presses his lips against the shell of my ear. “And you don’t want them to. Do you?”
I could have screamed. But I didn’t.
Instead, my chest is heaving. My nipples are hard. And I’m aching for completion.
“I think you enjoy being a naughty pet. Pushing me. Seeing how much you can get away with. And you love my punishments.”
“No.” Frantically I shake my head. “I hate them.”
“Do you?” His voice is skeptical, and he raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Your behavior would indicate otherwise.”
“You’re a Neanderthal.”
After another sharp smack, he uses his leg to force my thighs apart. Then he rubs my pussy with his knuckles.
“Again you’re refusing to admit the truth… You’re hoping that I’ll turn you over my knee in the middle of the restaurant and blaze your ass while everyone watches.”
“You’re a bastard.”
He abrades my clit, and I’m instantly on the edge, ready to come for him.
“Your mouth says one thing, but your body tells me something else.” He strokes me slowly, and I do my best to hold back a moan.
Moments later, I lose the battle. “Ohh.”
Within seconds, I am helplessly jerking against him.
Then he pulls back, leaving me heaving and desperate. “Dorian…”
“We’re here for you to remove your bra, not to be rewarded for bad behavior.”
“But… ”
He steps back. My pussy is throbbing. And after everything I already endured back at the cottage, I’m ready to sell my soul for relief.
Gently he turns me to face him. Then he raises the back of his hand to my mouth. “Clean me.” He shrugs. “Unless you don’t mind if anyone smells your heat on me. They’ll know you were humping my hand like a needy little submissive.”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
But we both know otherwise.
“Lick my hand, Isla.”
Getting more and more turned on by the minute, I do.
A part of me is screaming that this should be awful and humiliating, but it isn’t, making me wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
When he’s finally satisfied, he lowers his hand.
“The dress,” he prompts me.
Even though I’m shaky, he makes no move to help me. Instead, he steps back and fastens his gaze on me.
Hesitantly I pull my dress up and off, and he drapes it over his forearm.
“Now your bra.”
“You’re really going to make me do this?”
“If you want the dress back, you’ll get on with it.”
Sighing, I comply. In moments, I manage to release the clasp, and I drape the lingerie over my dress.
“That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
The door handle rattles, and I freeze.
Unfazed, Dorian calls out, “One moment!”
Of course he’s unbothered that he’s in the ladies’ room with the door locked.
“It’s me.”
Oh God. Brennan . And I’m standing here naked.
“Do not cover up.”
Fine. If they want me to own this, I’ll fucking own it .
Forcing down my nerves, I shake back my hair and stiffen my spine.
Dorian opens the door. Moments later, Brennan enters, turning the lock behind him.
He offers a soft, appreciative whistle. “Holy fuck me. You’re stunning.”
“She is, isn’t she?”
“Wondered if you were having a compliance issue,” Brennan tells Dorian.
“Our bride came around to my way of thinking.”
Both of them look at me, and I’m aware of my beaded nipples and the way my pussy pulses with need.
“The collar is even more beautiful when she’s naked.”
He reaches to cup my breasts. As he lifts them slightly, I suck in a sharp breath, and once more I’m flooded with arousal. “You’re perfect for us.”
Dorian moves in to capture each nipple between a thumb and finger.
As Brennan squeezes, digging in slightly, Dorian pinches and elongates my nipples. Their touch is maddening and everywhere except where I need it most.
They both intensify their grip, and the sensual onslaught overwhelms me.
I can’t believe I’m here, nude except for my heels and the expensive silver around my throat, and I’m only moments away from begging them to fuck me.
Right now, I don’t care who would know or what they might think.
I’m ensnared in their dark power, and I’m emotionally raw, seized by a shameless fever I can’t escape—or deny.
Then terribly—by some unspoken agreement—they release me.
I’m so overwhelmed; I have to hold on to Dorian for support .
“We’d love to give you orgasms tonight.”
Tonight? What does he mean, tonight? They’re leaving me like this?
“Whether or not that happens is totally up to you.”
For a moment, I’m speechless. “You’re withholding climaxes as a way to bend me to your will?”
“I think you’ll find it effective.”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Very much so,” he assures me.
I swing my gaze to Brennan, who shrugs. “I’m planning to eat you out for so long that you can no longer remember your name.”
They’re already driving me out of my mind. “You’re both—” Before I finish, I press my hand against my mouth.
Brennan tips his head to one side. “I believe our little submissive wishes to be pleasing.”
His gaze on me, Dorian feathers my nipples with his thumbnail and then traces the outline of my collar. Leaning in close, he murmurs, “Be careful, little one. You’ll make me fall in love with you.”
I’m so stunned I can’t do anything except blink. What a ridiculous, outrageous thing for him to say. Men like him don’t fall in love with women like me. Regardless, I wouldn’t want him to. The more separation we have between us, the better.
While Dorian slips my bra inside his suitcoat, Brennan helps me back into my dress.
My blowout is a mess, and I don’t care. After all, I’m at Vieille Rivière, not a high society event. Then I wrinkle my nose. Maybe that’s not true. This place is exclusive, and that means it takes money to get in here.
I comfort myself with the knowledge that no one is likely to talk about their experience here.
When we exit, there’s a woman waiting outside the door. She glances at both men, then winks at me as if to say I’m lucky.
I’d happily give both of them to her.
But as we walk back to the table, I realize that’s not true. And I’m not sure what that means to me. I can’t be softening toward them. Can’t.
As I take my seat this time, I notice the way the moonlight is glinting off the lazy Mississippi.
This place no longer feels as foreign, and I begin to relax.
So much food arrives, without us even ordering—Dorian’s handiwork, no doubt.
I barely register the plates before they’re cleared, replaced by small cups of chicory-laced coffee that’s dark and bitter and a scattering of sugared violets that shimmer like jewels in the chandelier light.
The faint anise scent teases me as the violin wails once more from across the room.
It’s a haunting, feverish cry, and the topless dancer sways to it, her body a fluid shadow against the crimson silk walls, every move dripping with a beautiful, untamed grace. Part of me wishes I had the confidence to be that sensually free.
The violin fades into a lingering note, and Dorian leans in, his breath grazing my ear. “Time to go, little one.”
My pulse spikes as they guide me from the booth and toward the exit.
Once we’re on the porch, the night air clings to me, and I’m no longer sure of who I’m becoming.
In the SUV, the interior is cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat still simmering in my veins, and I’m aware of the fact I’m wearing nothing beneath my dress and how freeing it feels.
Dorian settles in beside me, his knee brushing mine, while Brennan takes the seat across, his gaze steady and unreadable. The engine hums to life, and we pull away from the intoxicating experience of the restaurant .
Brennan tilts his head, looking at Dorian. “Has she behaved to your satisfaction tonight?”
I blink, stunned. You’re asking that? My breath catches, and I can’t believe I’m holding it, waiting for Dorian’s judgment like it matters.
Slowly he nods. “I believe she has.”
“In that case, Isla”—Brennan locks his gaze on mine—”you may remove your dress.”
My mouth gapes open. “Here?” I manage, looking between the two men. “Now?”
“Or not.” Dorian shrugs, casual as sin. “We can go through all of this again tomorrow if you’d rather go to bed needy tonight.”
Anything but that. I’m honestly not sure I can take any more.
Still, hesitating, I glance out the window.
We’re on back roads, and it’s pitch-black outside. The windows are tinted so dark that no one can see in.
And yet we have a driver who is very much aware of everything happening in the vehicle.
Maybe Vieille Rivière and the single glass of champagne has emboldened me. Either way, after only a slight hesitation, I peel off the dress.
“The correct response is always, Yes, Sir, ” Dorian tells me.
I’m not sure I can manage that. But in seconds, I’m once more bared to them. And my collar winks as we pass beneath a streetlight.
Brennan unfastens his safety belt and kneels before me, his hands rough and warm as he grips my thighs. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”
His earlier words echo in my mind. Surely he doesn’t mean to…
“Do it,” Dorian snaps. “And do it now.”