Page 119 of Risks of Temptation
It cuts my desire in half, and the hatred I feel for him comes flying back.
Is this real? Is this who we now are?
No. It's Malin. It's for tonight. To survive.
We've both changed. There's no going back.
I don't know who this man is anymore.
He lifts the bag past my nose but keeps my eyes covered then licks the back of my ear.
Tingles shoot down my spine, and I whisper, "I hate you."
He stiffens but then responds, "But you won't. You will beg me." He moves his hand under my dress and slides it into my sex, slowly rubbing my clit with his thumb. "This pussy is already hot and wet for me."
I whimper, hating myself for responding to him, shaking against his body.
He pulls his hand away and shoves his finger in my mouth, rolling it over both sides of my cheeks, then circling it on my tongue.
When he steps back, my nerves tingle again. He reaches out and pulls the bag off my head.
My eyes adjust to the darkness. When I see him, tears fill my eyes. Our gazes lock. For a moment, I see him. The real Malin. The man I fell hard and fast in love with. The only man I've ever loved. But then his face hardens. The gray in his eyes darkens. He snaps his finger in the air.
The blonde woman from the picture appears. She has on black, barely there lingerie. The black woman also steps forward. She massages Malin's shoulders, smirking at me. The blonde lady hands Malin something sparkly, but I'm so full of jealousy and rage, I hardly notice it. She says to him, "Would you like me to touch her?"
Heat rises into my cheeks. For a moment, I think he might tell her to.
"No. No one touches my property. You both will submit to me."
I don't understand what is happening, but they kneel next to me.
He holds out the most stunning diamond choker I've ever seen. It's ten diamonds wide, each one I assume is at least a carat. Pink diamonds spell out Malin.
I glance up at him with more confusion.
"I own you, Emilia. No one will touch my property. You will submit and enjoy every minute of it." He clasps it around my neck, and I feel a tug.
I gasp. I didn't see the chain. It makes me tilt my neck up toward him. He roars, "This is my property. No man or woman shall touch her without my permission. I invoke all power of the bylaws."
The room erupts in cheers and boos, and I glance away from him. Too engrossed in Malin, I forgot momentarily about the others. Too many men and women to count are in the dimly lit room. Women are in sexy dresses or lingerie. A few dozen are naked and sitting on laps or straddling men, already doing sexual things. But the men at the front scare me the most. One I recognize as the President.
Malin doesn't release the tension in the leash. His voice booms, "Strip, slave."
All eyes are on me. I close mine, and Malin demands, "Open your eyes and look at me."
I open them and turn my attention to him. It's then, I see it. I see him. "Strip," he says then his eyes change back to the person I don't know. He unzips my dress.
It confuses me and leads to my destruction.
With a shaking hand, I push one strap down, then the other, and the cool, silk dress slides down my hot skin. I stand naked, bare to the room and all the evil stares.
He drags his fingers over my ass and up my spine. I attempt to hold my emotions in, but tears fall down my cheeks, blurring the devils that intently watch me.
The music changes. Men rise. The back of the room comes toward us first.
Malin stands to the side, clutching the leash. One by one, the men come up and inspect me, as if I'm a piece of jewelry. They all speak different languages, but the comments in English and Spanish, I know. Some of the French ones, too. When they address Malin, they use English or French.
They all ask permission to touch me. Malin denies every one. When they don't get what they want, they demand other things. Some of them just stare at me while ordering the women on both sides of me to give them hand jobs or blowjobs.
