“Fuck you,” she whispers.
“OK,” I reply, turning around to face my crowd. “Let the night begin.”
People laugh, take long, fluted glasses off trays once again offering champagne, and resume the opening festivities.
I find Jordan in the crowd. He’s got his hands all over a woman standing next to her husband. Or maybe she’s just a date and not a wife? I can’t tell. Every man is a faceless black tux. Every woman a faceless silver dress. At any rate, Jordan is already engaged. Everyone is already engaged. Nadia is nothing but a footnote in a long story about to begin.
“Just have fun,” I tell Nadia as I kiss her one more time. “I trusted you last night.”
“I was too easy on you, obviously,” she spits.
“I bet you won’t make that mistake again, will you?”
She looks me in the eyes. “Never again.”
Two men have wandered up to us, their eyes bright with mischief, drinks in hand. They stare at Nadia like they’re hungry and she’s a good meal. I feel Nadia swallow hard under the pressure of my hand on her throat.
And then I grab her breast and pull the low-cut v of her bodice open to reveal a nipple.
“Very nice,” one of the men growls. “May I touch her?”
“Of course,” I say, pulling the other side of her dress open to expose her other nipple. “As soon as I’m done here.”
More men gather as I fondle Nadia. I hold her close, pressing my hard cock into the curve of her ass. “You can close your eyes,” I whisper, leaning into her neck to nip at the sensitive skin. She draws in air through her teeth, letting me know it hurts. “I’m going to blindfold you soon. But you can close your eyes now. It’s just my hand on you right now. And you can keep that illusion in your mind all night, if you’d like. Pretend it’s me, Nadia. And only me.”
She doesn’t close her eyes, so I drop my other hand to find her thigh, slip my fingers inside the slit of her dress, and push them right up against her pussy. I play with her through her panties as the men crowd us. Getting closer, and closer until they are a mass of male bodies encircling her.
Her pussy isn’t wet at first, but her shoulders relax and press against my chest, and then I feel the wet spot forming on the silky strip of fabric between her legs and push it aside to find her clit.
She begins to pant a little. And the next time I look at her face, she’s got her eyes closed.
“You’re a sick bitch,” I whisper into her neck.
But she says nothing back. She knows.
“You can have the blindfold as soon as you come for me. And then I’ll let them touch you, Nadia. You will have many hands between your legs tonight. You will orgasm for all of them, if they tell you to.” I push two fingers inside her and say, “Open your legs wider. Let it happen. Be here, Nadia. You’ve already agreed to play along, so you might as well be here.”
Her legs part, just a little. Just enough for me to push my fingers all the way inside her. I wiggle them and she moans.
“That’s a good girl,” I say, using my other hand to pet her hair. “You’re a very good girl.”
I use my thumb to strum her clit. Soft, slow circles as I continue to pump my fingers inside her.
“Do you like it?” I ask, my own breathing becoming heavy now. “And don’t lie to me.”
She hesitates. Maybe just enjoying the way I feel. Or maybe trying her best to resist and coming to the conclusion that she can’t. “Yes,” she eventually murmurs, eyes still closed.
“Then come for me,” I say. “Right now, in front of everyone. Come for me.”
She wiggles against the pressure of my fingers. Playing along like the good slut she is. My hand applies more pressure. My mouth finds her neck and I breathe into her ear, whispering, “Come, Nadia. Come for me,” as I continue to stimulate her. “Everyone is watching. Waiting for you to give in.” Her eyes are hopeless now. Tightly shut. Enjoying me. This. Them.
“If you’re very good,” I say. “I’ll fuck you tonight. I’ll fuck you in private. After everything is over. I’ll take you upstairs and put you on top of me. Slide my cock deep inside you. And Jordan will join in. He’ll put his face between your legs as I fuck you. He’ll lick your clit when I make you come on my dick. He’ll—”
Her body seizes up, stiffening with the coming of her climax. Her moans spill out with the wetness on my fingers. She clamps down on me, her orgasm releasing on my command.
I laugh a little as I watch the other men around us. Their zippers open, cocks in hand. Pumping hard and furious for our little show.
“I hate you,” Nadia whispers. But her eyes are still closed. Her body soft against mine. Her breathing slowing.
“I don’t care,” I whisper back. “I’m in love with your surrender.”
Chapter Sixteen - Nadia
Bric’s words awaken something inside me. Anger. Fear. Regret. Shame. All these things run through my mind when I open my eyes and meet his gaze. “I didn’t surrender,” I say. My voice is so low it barely counts as a whisper.
He just grins like a man who has all the power. Fool. “OK,” he says, running his fingers through my hair as he leans in for a kiss. “I’ll let you think that for now. But you won’t feel that way tomorrow morning.”
He lets go, his hold on me gone, and steps off the small platform. Jordan is suddenly behind me, lifting a blindfold up to my eyes. “Do you want this?” he asks.
He wants my permission. Jordan is like that. He knows when to ask and when to command. He’s all about give and take. A stark contrast to Bric’s bullish, mandatory domination.
“Nadia,” Jordan says, irritated with my silent contemplation. “Answer me.”
Bric has retreated to an elaborate high-back silver chair, something akin to a throne, directly in front of me. He meets my gaze with a stern face.
“Yes,” I say. Because it’s easier to pretend I’m in control than it is to watch Bric’s smug satisfaction with my implied surrender.
“Good,” Jordan says, covering my eyes with the blindfold. It’s soft. Cotton, maybe. But it pushes the mask I’m already wearing against my face, making the stiff silver lace trim scratch against my cheek. If we were alone I’d ask to take the mask off. But we’re not. And he’ll say no because of that. So I don’t ask. “Just try to relax,” Jordan says. “We won’t let anyone hurt you.”
I trust him, I realize. I know he’s not going to let anyone hurt me. And I know if Bric wasn’t here, he probably wouldn’t even be doing this. But Bric is here. And Bric is in charge, not Jordan. So his promise doesn’t mean much.
He secures the blindfold without further comment and then moves away. His absence creates a chill up my spine.
“Master,” a male voice says off to my left. “May I play with your sacrifice?”
“Of course,” Bric says. “That’s why she’s here.”
The man’s shoes tap on the smooth marble of the pedestal as he steps close to me. The chill is gone now. Replaced by his heat. At least on the outside. Inside I’m ice. I don’t react when his hands move up and down my ribs. Or when they gather my breasts to squeeze. But when his mouth touches my nipple, it peaks. Hard and pointy. His tongue slips over it in small strokes. His teeth nip and make me hiss in a breath of air through my teeth.
“Master,” another male voice says. “May I play with your sacrifice?”
“Of course,” Bric says. “That’s why she’s here.”
This man doesn’t immediately approach. He takes his time. Probably studying me like a specimen. But then—hands. Now there are two sets of hands on me. Two mouths on my nipples. I lose track of who is who, and, after the tingle between my legs becomes a throb, I no longer care until one man leaves and I feel the cold rush in to replace his heat.
“Master,” a third voice says. “May I rip her dress?”
Oh, Jesus. I swallow hard. Imagining what everyone sees. There have got to be a hundred people here tonight. Well over a hundred including the servers.