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“Does this turn you on, love?” His voice is a smooth caress against my suddenly feverish skin. The rumble of his voice sends jolts of electricity down my spine before settling into something hot and heavy, too heavy and too demanding between my thighs.

I want to be revolted, to be shocked and embarrassed and ashamed, repulsed at what I’m seeing and how my body is reacting to it.

I’m a good girl. I do good things. I don’t let men with shady lives and questionable motives lead me around, and I certainly don’t let them lead me into sex clubs and yet here I am. With a man likely more lethal than the devil himself standing at my back while I stare into the glass room and the three people inside.

I’m watching them… I’m wanting…

Kingston’s hand does another run down my spine before it stops at the base, just above my arse. His touch may as well be skin to skin with how I react to it. A brand. That’s what it was.

“I shouldn’t be here,” I try to add as much conviction to my voice but fail, letting it come out breathlessly and shaky. My legs tremble and my heart races.

“Oh, love,” I feel King’s tongue on my neck, “I think you’re exactly where you should be.” His fingers curl around my hip, and he tugs me back hard, hard enough that I slam back into his chest and feel his own arousal press against me, “I think you’re exactly where you want to be.”

I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be wanting. I don’t know him. He’s bad. He tricked me into coming here, he kept me in the dark. Fuck, he threw me into his car and practically bribed me into working with him.

But my head is fuzzy and my thoughts jumbled. I know what I should do, I know I should hit him and scream and lash out and then run. Run as far and as fast as I can, and yet I don’t. Instead, my lips part and I lean into him.

He growls against my neck, teeth grazing, that damned mask biting into my skin. It hurts but feels so fucking good. “Kingston,” I moan.

“Just say the word,” he rumbles, “we can leave.”

Is he giving me an out?

Take it, a voice in my head screams, tell him you want to leave and never see him again.

“I don’t want to leave.”

I feel his grin on my skin, and damn if that doesn’t turn me on more, “Then what do you want?”

“Touch me.”

Abruptly he moves us forward, grabbing my wrists and forcing my arms, flattening my palms against the glass, his hard cock pressing into the base of my spine, “keep watching them,” he orders.

As if I could take my eyes off them. The man pounds into the woman so hard she jerks forward with each thrust and while the other guy has now taken his dick from her mouth, he still loves on her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts. Her face is twisted in pleasure, her cries echoing through the speaker above me.

It feels so fucking wrong. So fucking dirty.

I feel King slide his hands down my hips, then my thighs, fingers curling under the hem of my dress. Shit, I’m doing this. The satin material is soft against my legs as he slides it up, bunching it in his fist and then his hand dips into the front of my underwear and everything leaves my head. All thoughts, all hesitations, gone as his fingers slide through my pussy. He smears my arousal over my clit. The first touch against that little bundle of nerves leaves me breathless and aching, my walls clenching around nothing. It had been a long time since a man had touched me.

“So wet, love.”

With his hand still in my underwear, he leans forward and presses his face to my neck, his kisses greedy and rough.

His deft fingers swipe through me, the heel of his hand continuing that slow torture against my clit as he teases my entrance and then inserts them slowly. So god-damned slowly.

“I’ve never wanted to taste something as badly as I want to taste you,” he rasps, his fingers a steady rhythm, and he pumps them in and out of me, building me higher and higher but never letting me get close to that edge.

“Kingston,” pleasure coils all my muscles tight.

“Tell me I can.”

“Yes!”

He spins me suddenly, the loss of his fingers leaving me cold, but then my back is pressed to the glass, and he’s shoved the mask away so he can lift my leg to rest it over his shoulder.

He’s not gentle as he tugs my panties to the side and buries his face in my pussy, tongue lashing at me.

I see stars as the silver ball of his tongue piercing flicks against my swollen clit. His fingers bite into my thigh as he keeps it upright, giving him easy access to me while the other draws lazy circles higher and higher up the inside of the other. He laps and flicks his tongue, the pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever known.

My eyes roll back in my head and all other sounds, all other movement around me becomes a blur. He suddenly spears two fingers inside, my pussy clamping around them as he fucks me with his hand and licks me expertly with his tongue. My hips roll against his face and his low growl of approval only spurs me on as I chase that rising high and that edge I know I’m about to go tumbling over.

“That’s it,” he rumbles, the vibration of his voice reverberating through me, “Ride my fucking face, love.”

My release barrels through me, so quick and violently my scream bounces off the glass walls.

I don’t feel it when King slides my underwear back into place or rights my dress, I don’t feel it as his hands steady me to keep me in place.

Slowly, as if rising from a fog, my senses come back. First, it’s the sounds, the noises of other people chasing their pleasure and their skin slapping together and then my eyes focus and bodies, so many writhing bodies.

Embarrassment has my cheeks heating as I notice the bodies now turned to me, eyes still watching, and I have no doubt they had seen it all.

Tears prick my eyes.

What the fuck did I do?

“Easy now, love.” King rasps, his mouth still wet.

“I hate you.”

His mask is back in place and all he does is smirk, “Had enough, Eleanor?”

“I want to leave.”

“You’ll leave when I say you can leave.” He rolls his shoulders, and his eyes go over my shoulder, “quite frankly, if I’m not going to have the favor returned,” he runs his hand over his mouth, wiping me away, “I’m going to need a minute to enjoy the show.”

“You’re sick.”


Tags: Ria Wilde Wreck & Ruin Dark