Page 59 of The Broker

Lilith stared back at her boyfriend like she was under his spell. Utterly enthralled. So much so, that when he began to guide her backward toward the St. Andrew’s Cross, I doubted she even realized she was moving.

She held his gaze, unblinking, as he used his free hand to grasp one of her wrists and raise it to match one of the outstretched arms of the cross. There was a slight click of metal against metal as she was clipped to the ring there.

I hadn’t realized my breath had gone so shallow until Travis’s hand dropped away from her neck. Had it been like that for the rest of the audience? As if he’d been collectively holding their throats too?

A muscle deep between my legs squeezed against the ache building inside me as he worked to clip the rest of her cuffs to the cross. Once she was completely restrained, he stood back and admired his work. We couldn’t see the expression on his face, but I imagined he looked pleased.

And why shouldn’t he feel that way? She was at his mercy. While everyone stared at her, watching the rapid rise and fall of her heaving chest, she stared at him like no one else existed.

Wait, no.

Her gaze finally broke from his and went to the only other person she saw in this crowded room. The longing in her eyes didn’t change, though. She was just as enchanted by Clay as she was Travis, even when he hadn’t touched her.

He had a part to play in this scene—one that was bigger than just adding the set piece off to the side before the show had begun. I had been so distracted by the strange sawhorse thing, I hadn’t seen him pick up the riding crop on his way to his seat.

He’d done it so he could easily pass it to Travis now that their girlfriend was bound spreadeagle to the cross. I shifted in my chair, anxious to see better between the people seated in front of us. I liked everything about this, from the way Lilithgazed at her partners, to the tacit approval Clay gave by handing the other man the crop.

Travis strolled to stand beside the cross, tapping the heart-shaped end of the black riding crop absentmindedly against his palm, before placing the leather heart gently on the center of her chest. Her eyes hazed as the tip dragged across her bare skin just above the edge of her bra.

His movements were unhurried and sensual. The tip of the crop carved a lazy path, gliding over her stomach, the juncture of her legs, and down the outside of one of her shapely thighs.

Everything about this was erotic.

It wasn’t just the scantily clad woman trussed up to the St. Andrew’s Cross and her attractive partner teasing her. The room was quiet, so riveted with anticipation that the first soft smack of the leather against skin could probably be heard clearly at the back of the room.

Travis gave her short, seemingly harmless slaps with the crop that mimicked the ones he’d given his palm. He followed the same path he’d taken down her body, although this time in reverse, tapping his way back up to her chest.

Lilith’s lips parted to release a soft sigh of pleasure when he increased the intensity of his strikes. The next round he dealt her was shorter.Sharper.

I swallowed a big gulp of my cosmo, needing the temporary distraction so I could get hold of myself because—Jesus Christ, this scene was so freaking hot, and it’d barely started.

The woman on stage sagged against her restraints, shifting on her ankle-breaking heels, and looked like she was halfway to heaven. The crop smacked against her breasts, her stomach, the insides of her thighs, making her jolt and moan.

And it painted little pink hearts across her skin, heating from the sharp slap of leather.

Lilith groaned and writhed, but there was no doubt she enjoyed it. Her little gasps and moans dripped with need, and I’d swear I could feel them reverberating through my body. Everything in me was tight, on edge, clamoring for some kind of release, although I hadn’t a clue what kind.

The room was full of strangers, and it wasn’t like I was close to orgasm.

But I felt a need just like she did, and it was worse for me because I wasn’t pinned down or constrained. The desire to touch myself was nearly overwhelming, and the only thing stopping me was self-control.

With his shirt gone, I could see every subtle flex of the muscles in Travis’s arm as he swung the crop. He landed a hit between her legs, probably directly against her clit, and Lilith recoiled sharply with pain.

“Fuck,” she gasped.

His tone was wicked, almost patronizing. “That’s not too much for you, is it?”

She pressed her lips together and swung her head quickly side to side.

“I didn’t think so.” He slapped the crop in the same spot, but this time he held back... just enough so her moan didn’t contain a trace of discomfort.

No, the one she gave was pure pleasure.

I clenched my hand so tightly on the stem of my martini glass, I worried I might break it. It was hard not to lose myself watching the scene. I needed to stay aware of my reactions, because I didn’t want Noah to think I was shocked... but mostly I didn’t want him to know how impossibly turned on I’d become.

Because I was embarrassingly turned on.

As we watched the man on stage decorate her body with more pink hearts, my envy came roaring back. I longed to tradeplaces with her—only in my fantasy, Noah would be the one wielding the riding crop.

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