A young woman’s moans and pleasure-filled panting filled the air, and I instantly touched my blindfold, the urge to take it off strong.
But I held back. I didn’t want to give him an excuse to send me back upstairs.
I dropped my hand and let Michael take me further into the room. At least I thought it was a room. He stopped, both of us facing the sounds, and my whole face warmed with embarrassment. I turned my head, my nose touching the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
“Ah, Christ,” a guy groaned. “Fuck, she feels good. You like that, don’t you, baby?”
I heard her sexy, lustful laugh as she breathed hard, and my stomach flipped, hearing the sounds of approval and laughter around the room.
From all the men. Oh, God.
I opened my mouth in shock, speaking quietly to Michael. “Are they hurting her?” I asked, knowing he could see everything.
“No.”
I licked my lips, listening to the grunting and kissing, the gasping and growls. Was she the only girl in here?
I faced the noises again. “Are they…?” I trailed off, not sure how to ask what I wanted to know.
“Are they what?” Michael’s low voice taunted.
I opened and closed my mouth, hating the amusement I caught in his tone. He was laughing at me.
I cleared my throat. “Are they….” I inched out, “Are they fucking?”
I rarely ever used that word, but it felt appropriate.
The sound of skin hitting skin, hard and fast, filled the room, with the girl’s moans matching the rhythm, and I gritted my teeth to stifle the groan in my own throat, feeling the heat grow between my thighs.
“Michael?” I called when he didn’t answer me.
But he still said nothing. A white-hot heat fell on my left cheek, and I turned my head to face him.
“Are you staring at me?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
My breathing got shallower, and I adjusted my hand in his, not sure if it was his sweat or mine I was feeling.
“Why?” I asked.
He hesitated a moment before answering. “You surprised me,” he said quietly. “Do you use the word ‘fucking’ a lot?”
My shoulders started to drop. Was I too crude?
“No,” I admitted, looking away. “I—”
“It sounds good on you, Rika,” he cut me off, putting me at ease. “Use it more often.”
Excitement rushed under my skin, and I wasn’t sure I would heed his request, but I smirked anyway. I didn’t care if he saw it.
The men in the room started to roar, and I wasn’t sure what was happening, but they were getting more excited.
“They are, aren’t they?” I asked again, but I really didn’t need Michael to confirm.
If the panting and the dirty words weren’t enough to give it away, I couldn’t mistake the pleasure in her hot, sweet whimpers that picked up rhythm, going faster and louder as the heated vibes of the onlookers surrounded me. I could only picture what was happening to her.
“Why are people watching them?” I asked.