Wargasm

by Sosie Frost

  I suppressed a frustrated groan. Sex wasn’t supposed to be this hard. Everything with Anthony was pre-calculated and planned and difficult. Submission wasn’t easy when I had no idea how dangerous his will could be.

  Well, fine.

  If he wanted to see how far I’d go to please him, he’d be very surprised.

  I settled onto his lap, wrapping my arms over his neck. I fit neatly against his chest, tiny and possessed. His body immediately reacted.

  Success.

  He stole a passionate, whirlwind of a kiss. I lost my breath, whispering his name as he brushed his lips along my neck. His compliment warmed my skin.

  “Good girl.”

  In mere moments, Anthony had transformed me from awkward virgin to a wanton woman, clutching him like the world shattered under our feet and he was my only anchor to safety.

  Maybe that’s what he was.

  Anthony’s kiss became a sensual reward for abandoning my hesitations. Despite the crowding room, no one commented or laughed. It was normal for a sub to sit in the lap of her master. To kiss him. To wiggle against him as his hands clutched at her body.

  My stomach still twisted, but for the moment, the nagging pulse between my legs won out.

  I slipped my tongue against his in a flit of bravery. He responded with a tighter hold on my hair. Not a punishment, just forceful encouragement.

  Pleasure and pain tread a thin line, and I only had a taste of what Anthony considered necessary. My heart raced, and he nipped at my skin. The zip of pain shot from my neck right to my core.

  He could have dumped me on the floor, walked away without a word, and I’d have waited for his return, shaking like an addict.

  “What is it, pet?” Anthony whispered. His tongue flicked my earlobe. I nearly vaulted into the ceiling.

  I wasn’t sure what part of my brain let my vulnerability talk, but those synapses needed to be electroshocked.

  “I like this, sir.”

  “Me too.” His voice deepened. “Know what I’d like more?”

  If we could get out of the club?

  If we could go to his bed?

  If we could rock together until a perfect oblivion overwhelmed us?

  I squealed as Anthony stood, scooping me into his arms.

  Oh, now the other members were really watching.

  I pushed at his chest, but that wasn’t going to stop him. My stomach rolled. Where was he taking me?

  Home?

  No.

  Worse.

  Anthony walked only a few steps before plunking me down.

  On the table in the middle of the room.

  With everyone watching.

  “Easy, pet.” Anthony soothed me with a kiss. “Isn’t this much more comfortable?”

  “We have different definitions of comfortable.”

  “Nonsense. I couldn’t see you in all the dark and shadows over there.” He grinned, looking into the spotlight above. “Now I can see all of you.”

  And so could everyone else.

  My legs crossed so hard they hurt. He rested his forehead on mine. I breathed in his closeness.

  “You look absolutely beautiful, Morgan.”

  And now the compliments?

  My body responded to his growl. His lips pressed against my forehead, temple, and cheeks. After a moment’s pause to nudge my head back, he turned his attention to my neck, tracing the artery with his lips and tongue.

  This was so very Anthony.

  Of course, he wanted to kiss me here, on the table, in front of the entire club. He’d admitted to craving the attention, loving how they admired his work. My body tensed, but he didn’t stop the line of kisses.

  “I want you.” A compliment or threat? “Right here, Morgan.”

  “Here?”

  “Yes.”

  “But…”

  “You’re mine, pet. Every touch will prove it. To you. To me.” His eyes cast over the room, only once acknowledging the quieting audience. “To them.”

  It sounded terrifying, but it was Anthony’s greatest thrill.

  His touch trailed over my arms, gentle. My breath escaped in tiny gasps between kisses.

  Could I do this? Could I give myself to him…

  My first time...

  Here?

  He stood strong and wild, his eyes hungry with lust. I knew exactly what he wanted, what excited him, but I had no idea how to offer it.

  I was completely at his mercy.

  I trembled. The fear and anxiety blended into a new arousal, one dependent on Anthony to soothe.

  Duchess watched, but he held me close in his arms, hiding me from their eyes, obscured by his desire. His kiss ignited a while intensity inside me. Not a Once Upon A Time, under the covers, sweet romance, but one blending fear, devotion, and blinding trust.

  “You can always use the safe word,” he whispered. “But I don’t think you’ll need it, do you?”

  Anthony breathed with me, his hands weaving over my arms. His lips nibbled mine.

  I prayed he wouldn’t stop.

  His kiss wove a trail from my neck down my arm. Goosebumps followed the path, and I giggled as the shiver shook me from my toes all the way up. Anthony’s smile twisted, his courage bolstered by my submission. His finger danced over the strap of my dress.

  He pulled it down, revealing my bare shoulder.

  I crashed back into the room.

  We weren’t the only ones here, no matter how hard I wished it. A few other girls sat in the laps of their dates. Some knelt on the floor. One man in a collar pleasured another man. Some people talked. Sipped their drinks. All of them watched.

  He tugged down the other strap.

  This was it.

  My bared shoulders signified a point of no return. At least the room was dim. Better for the more experienced to believe I understood what he did to me rather than the truth.

  I’d blundered into every single command Anthony ordered, and I had no idea how far he’d go now that I gave him permission.

  He comforted me with brush of his lips against my shoulder. His hands moved lower. They settled on my thighs. I crossed my ankles tight, but I could read his desire.

  I shivered, sinking deeper and deeper into a trove of goose bumps. My legs, back, and shoulders ached with tension. A failing attempt to protect myself and hide my own arousal.

  “Do you trust me?” Anthony gathered my dress in his palms.

  How did I manage to speak? “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you want me to touch you?”

  A trick question? I hesitated.

  “Talk to me, pet.” His voice wove like silk against my skin. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You shouldn’t have to think it. Just feel it. What does your body tell you?”

  If I knew that, I wouldn’t still be a virgin. “I trust you, Anthony. With everything. With me. With my body. With…”

  “With your pleasure?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then close your eyes…” The graze of his fingertips spread like wildfire over my skin. “And let me show you the meaning of submission.”

  Nothing sounded better or more frightening.

  After a week of separation, I’d prepared to give him every bit of myself. But I’d imagined a bed. Candlelight and roses.

  Not…here.

  This wasn’t his luxurious bedroom. It was the middle of Duchess, the heart and soul of their entertainment. As clinical as a doctor’s office and as damning as any stage where I had ever performed.

  Conversations whipped around us. Women laughed. Ice clinked in drinks, and phones buzzed with messages. But Anthony touched me, burning.

  I saw only him—his dark eyes, the hair tucked around his face, his broad shoulders, his chest. Every breath filled me with his scent.

  He bought the dress for me.

  And now he’d remove it.

  “I want them to see you, pet,” he said. “Let them feast on your body, envy how soft
your skin is beneath my fingers. I want them to imagine just how warm you are pressed against me.” His voice lowered. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, Morgan. Don’t let me go mad with lust.”

  This wasn’t madness?

  I bit my lip, but Anthony moved slowly. The dress slipped up, over my body, my shoulders my head.

  Anthony’s breath released as he saw me. Mine got stuck somewhere in my chest.

  Duchess quieted—the sort of stillness that signified power and wickedness. Someone oohed from the shadows.

  My pulse raced. They could see me. Everyone could see me. Only a strapless bra protected my breasts, and lower? I wore a thong.

  A thong.

  The only one I’d ever purchased—and it was such a lacy, worthless scrap of cloth I could hardly justify the price.

  But it’d looked good under the dress. Hopefully it’d protect me a bit more now. That bit of silk was all that shielded me from the eyes of two dozen strangers.

  And Anthony.

  But he knew what wetted beneath.

  “Lovely, pet.”

  My legs still crossed, clenched so tightly I didn’t know if it was my own arousal or blinding fear that kept them closed. His lips sucked and nibbled along my neck, each point of contact racing my heart.

  “Let me closer, pet.”

  Closer. Right. Except I didn’t remember how to move. Or breathe.

  His hands hooked under my knee, and slowly, with deliberate care, he opened my legs.

  His body moved in, his pants grinding against my wetness.

  This was too much. How did this look to them? A half-naked woman straddling her date? Legs wrapping over his waist. Body trembling with need?

  This was dirty. Slutty.

  It was me, once more the center of attention.

  Anthony’s heat wound against my exposed skin. He was excited. More than excited. His hardness throbbed against his pants. He pressed it against me. I liked the feel, but…

  How far did he expect this to go?

  He brushed the bra, his hands large against the soft skin of my back. He flicked the clasp with a lazy finger. The material opened. I gripped it to my chest, but Anthony’s chastisement forced my arms to my side.

  He tugged on the material.

  The bra fell away.

  And everything…

  Changed.

  The sounds in the room. The intensity of their stares.

  Most men went insane protecting their woman’s modesty. Anthony stripped me specifically to entertain a room full of strange men. He encouraged them to look. Even though it was my body, I was his pet. And his smile darkened as my chest bared to everyone.

  He rubbed a thumb over my pebbled nipple. I flinched away in shock.

  “Sensitive, little girl?”

  A few people chuckled. I froze, but Anthony called to me, stealing my attention. His stare bore into mine. A reminder. I could tell him to stop. I could shout for my clothes and run from Duchess, and he would be there to deliver me safely to my apartment.

  His hands never left my body.

  I stayed quiet.

  “You’re safe,” he said. I believed him. “And you’re mine.”

  His hands drifted lower. I knew where they headed. His fingers hooked against the thong, but his lips distracted me. Kissing. Caressing. Murmuring soft words of safety and protection.

  The material slipped over my hips. I braced myself on his shoulders as he peeled it from my body, casting it aside to the pile of abandoned clothing on the floor. He licked a gentle path to my nipple, flicking the painfully tightened bud before slipping it into the warmth of his mouth. My lips parted, but I didn’t allow myself to make a sound.

  I couldn’t.

  They’d hear it.

  My mind reeled. He sucked against me, pulling even more of my nipple into his possession. Every nerve ending traced to my core.

  My exposed and wet pussy.

  My eyes peeked open. More members had found their way into the room, and every one of them watched as Anthony explored me. Thomas and Shannon, Nate and Mariah, Genn and Reed.

  Simone.

  People I recognized and strangers I’d never met whispered with their submissives, all eagerly awaiting Anthony’s next move.

  Was this what drove him wild? Everyone admired my body, from my hardened nipples to my soft mound. They saw how badly I needed him. Watched how I opened my legs, exposed and trembling. They practically applauded as I gave into his touch.

  Then he pushed me down.

  And I came undone.

  I feared the dark thoughts spinning in my mind, the churning desire in my belly, and every preconceived notion of what was good and right and proper…

  “She’s a virgin.”

  I stiffened as Anthony announced it to the room.

  What was he doing?

  Simone took the hint, slithering closer and claiming a chair right behind me. Had I opened my eyes, I might have seen her examining me, leaning over, smiling as Anthony spread my legs wider.

  “We’ve never had a virgin in Duchess before.” Simone’s tease trembled through me. “Anthony’s been kind enough to organize something…special.”

  His touch traveled down, past my tightened nipples and quivering stomach. His finger stroked my slit, and I bit my lip, suppressing a soft whimper from escaping. He brought the finger to my lips. My eyes went wide, but he waited.

  Slowly, I opened my mouth and sucked.

  A murmur of excitement charged through the audience.

  Anthony stared at me. “Morgan’s promised herself to me.”

  The room whispered amongst themselves. Complimented my youth, my beauty…

  My virginity.

  “Have you ever seen such beautiful skin?” Simone asked them. “Untouched. And those little chocolate nipples? Criminally un-sucked. And what waits for us a little lower…”

  Anthony’s finger flicked over my clit. Soft, knowing caresses against the most sensitive part of me.

  Simone met Anthony’s gaze with a brazen grin. She spoke to everyone watching, baiting them with vulgar words to lean a little, stare a little harder. “This is a tight, virgin pussy. Unlicked. Unbroken. Unfucked. Tonight, for your entertainment…our beautiful Morgan is offering her innocence to Anthony. Tonight, you will watch as Anthony deflowers this sweet, naïve girl. He’ll break through that innocence, fuck her bare and unprotected, and then pound her sweet virginity into complete submission.”

  The audience hummed. Shifted.

  Murmured in excitement.

  My body frayed into a bundle of buzzing nerves, sparking and twisting under his touch.

  It was too much. I trembled, and they saw. I wetted, and they knew.

  Anthony mastered by body with a whisper and a kiss.

  I laid back for their enjoyment, exposed and vulnerable as Anthony spread my legs wider, just to reveal my glisteningly bare slit to any who desired to look upon a virgin pussy.

  No coherent thought formed in my head. I’d become a creature of pure emotion, a slave to my own orgasm. Lust and fear battled in my soul, depending on Anthony to become their champion.

  Anthony kissed everywhere, beginning with my nipples and slowly treading down. My muscles paralyzed as he encroached lower.

  I didn’t have time to use the safe word.

  His tongue pressed between my legs and nestled within the wet folds of my pussy. He licked, a single, long promise. Any thought of safe words and stopping, mercy and fear, evaporated into a numbing, blinding bliss.

  Lightning struck me. Every nerve ending came alive. Anthony’s tongue curled around me. He pried me open, lapped at my insides and swallowed every ounce of wetness I offered. My lips parted, and a whimper escaped. I dug my nails into the table.

  And now I was getting off in front of an audience.

  Men and women, submissives and dominants, watching as Anthony pleasured me with his skilled tongue.

  The disgrace rivaled the urgent need cresting inside of me. I
couldn’t let it happen. Cumming here would be worse than at the pool. At least then only Anthony and Simone knew.

  But now, here?

  All these people—all of his friends—waiting. Eagerly viewing the show and whispering with each other about my body. My reactions. How long I could hold out.

  Not much longer…

  The pleasure was endless. He explored my slit, his tongue darting inside me, tasting all of my secrets. His lips curled around my clit and sucked. Way too intense. My body rolled and shook and sweated. I flinched away, torn between begging for mercy and pleading for more.

  How could I resist him?

  How could I not?

  Our audience watched, waited, urged me to come. Their attention burned through me.

  Shame. Terror. Absolute seduction.

  Anthony’s skill and devotion blistered me with every lick, and nothing could prevent the inevitable. Not while my body built its own defenses and then demolished them from the inside.

  I twisted, imploding with a flushed heat that bubbled and erupted outwards with relentless demand. I clutched at Anthony, I whispered his name. Begged him to stop and continue and ruin me.

  The orgasm burst through me, powerful enough to crack bone but soft, smothering me with a feather. I arched. Cried out. Trembled.

  Surrendered to every last ounce of humiliation, degradation, and pleasure.

  This was torture.

  Sweet, endless, twisted torture.

  And all the while…

  Those watching?

  They talked about me.

  Mariah and Nate whispered about how tiny I looked, absolutely swallowed in Anthony’s massive shadow. Thomas chided Shannon, reminding her that only good girls got their pussies licked. Reed and Genn giggled about something—I couldn’t hear and I was sure to be mortified if I knew what they said about me spreading my legs and whimpering in pleasure.

  “Feel good, pet?” And of course, Simone talked to me. “Look how you’re shaking.”

  The demon sipped from her drink and captured a ringside seat to my delightful misery. She leaned back, her feet crossed at her ankles on the table, boots near my side. She toasted Anthony.

  “How’s she taste?”

  Anthony actually moved away from my pussy, showing her the swollen little secret. “Like a strawberry.”

  “I knew it.” She accepted the applause of the audience. “Nate, you owe me a hundred dollars.”