Page 57 of His Turn

I have to tuck away a smile and a chuckle as I hold her hand, nod my head at the steps, and she begins to climb. When she’s on the top step—her head peeking just high enough above the crowd to really see the room—her eyes dart around with hesitation, or anticipation, or, hell, maybe even appreciation.

I join her on the top step, take my own opportunity to appreciate the view, and then raise her arm above her head and bind her wrist into a soft leather cuff. I do it again for her other hand until her breasts are pushing up and out, pressing against the thin mesh of transparent silver fabric that makes up her bodice.

The men begin to murmur. Probably wishing they had taken more notice of her when she walked through the door with Jordan. But now she’s in a mask, so she is no one to them. No one but the girl on the dais in the center of the room. No one but the centerpiece of their night. Nothing but mine.

But they all know I like to share just as much as they do, and so they know they will all get a turn in the game.

“What’s going on?” Nadia whispers under her breath.

“Don’t interfere,” I say. “Right?” I glance down at her, my hands on her breasts, evil grin on my face.

“That’s not fair, Elias. I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” I whisper back through clenched teeth. “You’re not allowed to talk.”

I kiss her then. She breathes heavy into it. Her lips are tight against mine for a moment, but my hands are sliding down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, pulling her close to me. So she gives in. She has no choice, not really. She can say no. But she won’t.

“You can say no,” I remind her. “Everything we do here is based on mutual consent. So say no now, Nadia. I’ll let you go, even let you leave—although it’s against the rules until we unlock the doors tomorrow morning. But then you’ll never know how the game ends. And you’ll lose, Nadia. If you walk out now, you’ll lose Jordan, you’ll lose me, you’ll lose everything because I’ll just choose someone else to play with.”

She wants to look behind her. Desperately wants to find Jordan’s masked face in that crowd to see what he thinks about all this. But she gives up before she really tries. She knows what he thinks. He brought her here wearing a uniform disguised as a dress.

Everyone is quiet as we have this private conversation. It’s not unusual for the night’s sacrifice to be nervous. There’s often soft negotiation going on at this point in the night.

“Don’t—” she says. But she stops.

“Don’t what?” I ask, letting my body press into hers. I have my arms around her now, her back pressed into my chest. One hand slides back up the curve of her breasts and takes her face. My thumb presses against her jaw as I turn her head in my direction. “Better say it now, Nadia. Because if you don’t, I’ll definitely do it.”

“Fuck you,” she whispers.

“OK,” I reply, turning around to face my crowd. “Let the night begin.”

People laugh, take long, fluted glasses off trays once again offering champagne, and resume the opening festivities.

I find Jordan in the crowd. He’s got his hands all over a woman standing next to her husband. Or maybe she’s just a date and not a wife? I can’t tell. Every man is a faceless black tux. Every woman a faceless silver dress. At any rate, Jordan is already engaged. Everyone is already engaged. Nadia is nothing but a footnote in a long story about to begin.

“Just have fun,” I tell Nadia as I kiss her one more time. “I trusted you last night.”

“I was too easy on you, obviously,” she spits.

“I bet you won’t make that mistake again, will you?”

She looks me in the eyes. “Never again.”

Two men have wandered up to us, their eyes bright with mischief, drinks in hand. They stare at Nadia like they’re hungry and she’s a good meal. I feel Nadia swallow hard under the pressure of my hand on her throat.

And then I grab her breast and pull the low-cut v of her bodice open to reveal a nipple.

“Very nice,” one of the men growls. “May I touch her?”

“Of course,” I say, pulling the other side of her dress open to expose her other nipple. “As soon as I’m done here.”

More men gather as I fondle Nadia. I hold her close, pressing my hard cock into the curve of her ass. “You can close your eyes,” I whisper, leaning into her neck to nip at the sensitive skin. She draws in air through her teeth, letting me know it hurts. “I’m going to blindfold you soon. But you can close your eyes now. It’s just my hand on you right now. And you can keep that illusion in your mind all night, if you’d like. Pretend it’s me, Nadia. And only me.”

She doesn’t close her eyes, so I drop my other hand to find her thigh, slip my fingers inside the slit of her dress, and push them right up against her pussy. I play with her through her panties as the men crowd us. Getting closer, and closer until they are a mass of male bodies encircling her.

Her pussy isn’t wet at first, but her shoulders relax and press against my chest, and then I feel the wet spot forming on the silky strip of fabric between her legs and push it aside to find her clit.

She begins to pant a little. And the next time I look at her face, she’s got her eyes closed.