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I see his mouth move and am surprised when I hear his words ring over the music. “Stand for me, doll. It’s playtime.” It’s hushed and slightly muted but definitely audible. The stage must be wired for sound. Illicit excitement dances across my skin like invisible sparks.
Juliette stands. She looks like a fallen angel, wrapped like a present in black lace. Ready to be dropped on the devil’s doorstep. He spreads his knees and pulls her between them. Producing a black rope, he ties her hands together where they hang in front of her. He stands, tugging his leather gloves farther down his wrists. The movement is minuscule but powerful, like she’s nothing but a toy he’s readying to play with.
“Lie down and give me that pretty mouth.” His words float through the room and heat builds in my bloodstream, my stomach dropping.
Following his instructions, she lies across the chair on her back, head hanging off one armrest and feet over the other. My core tenses when he stands in front of her dangling face and undoes his belt.
“Is he really going to . . . ?” I whisper.
“Fuck her throat?” Lochlan’s own sounds tight and scratchy. “Yes . . . and more. Do you want to leave?”
My eyes leave the stage for a second to glance his way. I don’t think before I speak. “No.” And it’s a wholly honest answer. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay. I want to watch this beautiful woman be ravaged by this devilish masked man.
Back on the stage, the man pulls out his cock, and I bite my tongue to hold back a gasp. “You know what to do, doll.” His voice is so husky and dark, it sends chills down my spine. He pulls on her hair, forcing her head farther back until her mouth hangs open.
I squeeze my thighs together as his length disappears down her throat. Soft gagging sounds mix with the music as he rocks his hips back farther. The erotic noises are all around me, making it feel like I’m right there on the dais with them. His groan ripples through the room as he sinks himself to the hilt, and I cross and uncross my legs as my pussy clenches.
My cheeks flare with heat when I realize Lochlan’s eyes are on me, not the stage. They drop to my mouth as I lift my glass for a sip. His knuckles tighten around his own drink as I swallow the smokey alcohol. “You alright, réalta?”
“Fine,” I say shortly and roll my shoulders back, feeling flustered and hot.
He chuckles darkly, and the wicked sound has me worrying my lip. “You seem a little . . .” He lightly brushes a thumb across my bottom lip where my teeth dig in. “Bothered.”
When I meet his eyes, they are dark and hooded. He smirks slyly. “I can help you with that.” My heart races, my pulse hammering. I brush him off with a laugh that comes out more nervous than I’d like.
He sits back smugly and returns his gaze to the stage, taking a slow sip of whiskey. My stomach flips with indecision, uncertainty, and, more than anything else, desperation.
A cigarette girl approaches the dais and hands the man a red stick and something else. I realize the stick is actually a candle as he strikes a match and the wick ignites. He continues to slowly pump in and out of Juliette’s mouth as he holds the lit candle over her chest.
My breath catches in my throat as a scarlet drop of wax falls onto her cleavage. She moans, the sound stifled around his cock, and I bite my lip, a moan of my own trying to escape.
I imagine the sting and burn of the hot wax. The feeling of a full mouth and trying not to choke while sharp spikes of pain drizzle up and down my sternum.
I adjust in my seat, my skin feeling too hot, and glance at Lochlan. He stares back and the intensity in his eyes makes my throat tight. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip as he lowers his gaze slowly to where my thighs are pressed tightly together. Heat pricks my skin with the slow sweep of his eyes. The muffled sounds of pleasure dance in the air, and I feel the notion of who I should be slipping away. Or maybe it’s a mask and I’m shedding my inhibitions the way a snake sheds its skin.
Either way, I find myself whispering, “Lochlan . . .”
“Stella.” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice, and I could kill him for it. He swirls his drink and looks so cool and composed, I envy him. While my name on his lips sounds devious and wrong in all the best ways, there’s something brewing in his eyes that gives me pause. My throat suddenly dry, I down my drink.
He inches closer. My heart pounds as his thigh brushes mine. It’s just a graze, but it pushes me toward the edge of a cliff I’m determined not to fall off. Because on the other side is a cavernous drop where rationale ceases to exist.
He sets his hand next to mine on the table and lightly traces his fingers back and forth. Each time, he almost touches mine and my stomach drops, but he never does. Just slowly drags them back and forth.
“Who would have thought sweet Stella would get so hot watching a brute like him fuck her mouth.” His eyes are straight ahead, but I see the corner of this mouth tug in a smirk. “I should have known by the way you begged to be bent over and fucked.”
“You don’t know anything about what I like or don’t like.” Even if he is right, I can’t help but push back. “And I didn’t beg.”
He shakes his head and looks at me, his glare burning with dark amusement. “If you’re gonna lie to me, you better get a hell of a lot better at it.” I narrow my gaze and he continues.
“Every time he thrusts deeper, you squeeze your legs together. When she whimpers, you swallow like your throat’s gone dry.” He reaches out and trails his fingertips down the slope of my neck. “And when he squeezes her throat . . .” His hand suddenly and unexpectedly collars my throat. I gasp, my mouth falling open. He chuckles, his palm glides, and he brushes my bottom lip with his thumb. “Your lips part just like that.”
“Don’t be crude,” I say with as much conviction as I can after he just read me like a goddamn book.
“Is it crude if it’s true?” He lifts a brow and leans back, casually flagging Lulu like nothing happened. I want to insist he’s wrong, but I can’t find the words past the burning urge to climb into his lap and tell him how right he is. How badly I ache for him to use me and fuck me just how he claims I want it.
Lulu flits over to our table. “Another round?”
“Make it a double, please,” I say as she collects our empty glasses.
