Page 89 of The Heart

In public.

I nearly cry looking between them. Sure, the room is dark, but still.

I turn back to Colton, who’s watching me curiously.

“Thank you. Thank you for bringing us here,” I tell him, but he suddenly grows tense.

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll be back,” he says, then takes one last long look at me before disappearing up the aisle toward the back of the room.

The next five acts come and go, and I find each one even more interesting than the last. I realize now that the first one was just to warm everyone up, because every act since seems to step it up in intensity– and toys.

If you consider something that looks like a horse-whip atoy.

And Luke was right, I’m definitely learning a lot.

Despite the intense carnal activities going on in front of me, it’s obvious that every scene is well thought-out. The choreography flows seamlessly with the chosen music, whether they are dancing or just fucking to the flow of it. The whole production adds an artistic element that makes this so much more than just sex.

I look beside me, realizing that Colton still isn’t back yet.

“Where is he? He’s missing it!” I whisper to my guys when we’re between acts.

“Don’t worry, sugar. You’ll see plenty of Colton tonight,” Sebastian mutters out, then takes a drink to hide his smile. Luke nearly chokes out a laugh, then glares at the man beside him.

“Well that’s fucking ominous,” I lecture, but then the lights go out again and I’m left in the dark, wondering what the final act will be like.

The music starts as the lights come up, and much like the first scene, two people are frozen in place, only, on opposite sides of the stage facing each other. They’re wearing thick black hooded cloaks, and paired with the heavy thrumming of the music, it’s incredibly ominous.

Dangerous,even.

The man is tall.Verytall, the woman much shorter. Then their cloaks drop at the same time as a heavy beat, and the two of them are left standing completely naked… aside from some industrial looking leather apparatus that covers absolutely nothing. They look sexy as fucking hell.

The woman is strong, but elegant. Her dark skin glistening with the same oil that everyone is covered in tonight. Her breasts are framed by the thick straps of leather, and her chest is already heaving. I take my time admiring her, because by this far into the show, I’m not even trying to hide that I’ve been enjoying the view on stage. I thought my capacity to blush ran out three acts ago, but then I drag my eyes over to the man.

Holy. Fuck.

His entire frame is muscular in a way that isn’t just bulk. In fact, there were several other men larger than him tonight. He isn’t just muscle, he’s fucking sculpted to perfection and covered in tattoos. I do have a thing for men with tattoos. They are scattered over his tanned skin, but the light is shining on them in a way that doesn’t allow me to really appreciate the designs. The man’s light brown, wavy hair is hanging over his face, landing just past his shoulders.

And fuck me, his dick is huge. Similar to my guys’, but also unique.

It’s a great dick.

Definitely my favorite of the night.

I look between him and the woman, who is shorter than me, and wonder where she’s going to put that.

When the two of them start stalking each other around the stage like wild animals, I can see why they were chosen for last. They are dangerous and strong, and so fucking sexy. My eyes trail up the man’s body, trying to see his face, but then he’s moving.

In a few long strides that match the quickening pace of the music and my heartbeat, he’s made his way across the stage and his large hand is wrapped around the woman’s throat. Her breath quickens as she looks up at him, and he down at her. Her hands fly to his wrist, and he lifts her up just enough so her pointed toes drag across the floor as he walks backward to the middle of the stage.

They stand there for a moment, their heavy breathing bringing even more attention to their gorgeous bodies. Then, using only the hand wrapped around her throat, helifts her up.

She’s obviously holding her own weight by the grip she has on his wrist, but still. It’s erotic as all hell. He just keeps lifting her, slowly, until her toes are nearly a foot off the floor.

I let my eyes wander over the man, watching every muscle in his body flexing at the effort to hold her in place. Then my eyes finally land on his face.

Oh, fuck.

My stomach bottoms out and my eyes go wide as I try, and fail miserably, to suppress my gasp.

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