Page 98 of Enthrall
There, in the center, rested a dark wooden table. Leaning over one side of it was a masked brunette, wearing only a bodice and no panties. She stretched out her hands before her for balance, her spine a perfect curve, her wrists held tightly by a smartly dressed masked man standing on the other side. Despite her mask she looked relaxed, as though unaware of her audience. Their gazes fixed on her, on all three of them.
The brunette was being taken from behind by a masked man, his shirt open and pants off, revealing a sculpted musculature. He kept his rhythm slow, steady, as his full length disappeared inside her, only to pull all the way out before slamming into her again. And again.
He was taking her hard.
This dark, evoking scene unraveling like a shadowy dream…
The air crackled with an electrifying atmosphere, fusing each and every person watching. A silent rousing, a burning within each stare feasting upon this never-ending sex scene. This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be real. My mind searched for understanding of what unfolded in this elegant suite.
The brunette moved with the grace of a dancer as she was elegantly flipped onto her back by the two men. She lay facing up on the table. Her hands were recaptured behind her by the one who had held her before. The other man who had taken her from behind was now standing between her legs. He eased her thighs apart and spread her legs wide open to completely expose her. When he seemed content that the on-lookers had seen her pussy well, having scanned the many masked faces of the audience just to be sure, he used his hand to pleasure her there. Fingering her leisurely, he easily brought her to ecstasy. He leaned in low and buried his face into her shiny wet cleft, licking away at her clit, his tongue expertly darting over that small nub. She arched her back, her moans of pleasure mingling with the music, an unfamiliar ballad that was a perfect backdrop to this lust-filled scene.
Hushed murmurs of approval came from the room.
It was hard not to imagine you were her, that woman laying there being pampered so provocatively. I fought with this desire to stay, my core tightening with anticipation of what else I might see. What else they might do. My gaze glided over the masked witnesses to these three and their uncommon pleasure, searching for Richard, Cameron, or even the girls.
I shouldn’t be in here. Yet my feet remained rigid and stuck to the floor, my gaze meeting that of the masked beauty as she turned her head to the side. Her eyelids fluttered, her lips pouted in wanton ecstasy. Her moaning filled the ballroom, and the whispers of the man holding her wrists demanded her complete submission, which she gave willingly. Her orgasm snatched her breath, seizing her, taking her higher still.
Her soft sighs of bliss were shared with us all.
Turning slowly, my own arousal disorientating me, I reached the doorway, pressing my hand against my chest to calm my racing heart. I stepped out into the hallway and found myself once more engulfed in billowing smoke.
Feeling my way along the wall...
“What do we have here?” a male voice called out.
A short, plump man wearing a toga neared me. He wore a leaf crown like a Roman emperor. Beside him stood the guard I’d met at the door.
“I’m looking for someone,” I murmured.
Toga lowered, his gaze and it slid over to the Harrington Suite.
My words failed me and I shook my head,no.
“Take it off,” he said, gesturing. “Now.”
I removed my mask.
“Who are you?” he said angrily.
“Mia.”
“Come with me.” His voice was low, threatening.
The guard grabbed my arm, his ironclad grip cutting off my circulation. In seconds we’d entered a study, a lavishly decorated office. Bookcases went all the way to the ceiling, the vast, neatly lined compendiums an impressive collection of knowledge. Leather and dark wood gave the room an overly masculine flair. A long chain hung from the ceiling in the center. I’d seen something similar back at Enthrall, but here it looked out of place.
My gaze froze upon it.
“Find the director. Now,” snapped Toga to the guard.
There was some relief when the bouncer disappeared, though the thought of what kind of trouble I was in terrified me.
“What website do you work for?” said Toga.
“I’m a guest.” I hesitated, nervous to mention Richard’s name.
“I know everyone here,” he said. “You, I don’t know.”
I hugged my cape tighter, regretting coming here without Richard’s permission and cursing my desire to try something new. I vowed never to disobey him again. Even my thoughts leaned toward submissive. This place had a way of silencing you.
