All she could think of was sinking her fingers into the warm flesh of his buttocks. She’d bet her next paycheck that Antonio Villareal was an animal in bed. He possessed a barely leashed sexual energy that alerted every female of his presence.
She licked her lips. Maybe she hadn’t waxed her legs for nothing after all.
Women crowded around him and he smiled and nodded at the ladies who reached for him though he stopped to speak to no one. Approaching the stage, he ignored the steps and leapt onto the platform.
A waiter walked onto the stage with a tray of champagne and the men each accepted a glass. Jane could barely tear her gaze away from Antonio. His plain black mask covered most of his face leaving only the lower half visible.
For Jane it was enough. He had a strong jaw and a quick smile that told her he used it frequently. A sense of humor was very sexy indeed.
“May I introduce my baby brother, Antonio?” Dirk tossed an arm around his neck. “The best damned brother a man could ever have.”
Antonio’s smile widened, “Better than you deserve, bro.”
The liquid warmth of his voice trickled down Jane’s spine as the crowd laughed. He had a slight accent, just enough to cause her to sit up straighter.
“A toast to my humble brother.” Dirk raised his glass. “Happy birthday, Antonio.”
Salut.
Jane raised her glass in a silent nod to the birthday boy.
Antonio took a sip of his champagne though he seemed preoccupied. His gaze moved restlessly around the crowd as if he were searching for someone—a woman perhaps?
“So now, my wife and I invite you to enjoy a special scene we’d like to share with you.” Dirk was speaking again. “Please find a place to get comfortable as the fun is about to begin.”
A scene? On stage?
Murmurs broke out in the crowd while Antonio and Dirk tossed back their glasses of champagne then left the stage. Within seconds Jane lost sight of the handsome birthday boy.
Her gaze darted to her watch. Only fifteen minutes to go.
People were taking their seats on the couches and pillows while Jane opted to stay put. Her gaze scanned the crowd and she caught sight of Lily standing off to one side with Jean Jacques. It didn’t surprise her to see they were arguing again.
Even though her friend was almost a foot shorter than her companion, she didn’t hesitate to get in his face. Well, his collar anyway. Her color was high as she poked her finger into his chest with abandon. His mouth was tight and Jane could tell he wasn’t terribly pleased with being dressed down by a petite redheaded tyrant.
Without warning, Jean Jacques swept the mouthy woman off her feet and over his shoulder like she was a sack of laundry. He turned and Jane had to smother a laugh. Lily hung upside down smacking him on the ass and screeching like a loon as they exited the ballroom. Jane smirked.
So much for professionalism.
If he was a smart man, he’d find the nearest horizontal surface and he’d fuck her until she was too exhausted to bitch any more. They wanted each other and by denying it all they were doing was making those around them miserable.
A waiter approached with a tray of champagne and Jane took a glass. “Good night, Lily.”
The golden liquid danced across her tongue and slid down her throat. In sheer bliss, her eyes slid closed. If she knew her friend, she’d either return to the ballroom bristling with indignation or Jane wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night.
For Lily’s sake, she hoped for the latter.
Being alone at the party didn’t bother her, it wasn’t like she didn’t speak the language. Besides—she snagged a mini mushroom quiche from a passing waiter—the food was fabulous. And what was the next best thing to sex?
Food.
And then?
Taking off these feet-crippling shoes…
Kicking off the offending heels, Jane snagged a few more canapés before the lights dimmed. A buzz of excitement passed through the crowd. Two men dressed in black walked across the stage to move the restraint frame front and center. The chains dangling from each corner clanked against the metal frame and the sound sent a zing of arousal through her body.
Jane couldn’t help but be fascinated. She’d never been to a party where a bondage scene had been acted out for the attendees. Of the few leather parties she’d attended, it wasn’t unusual to see someone being spanked in a corner, but never on a stage in front of everyone.
Next they moved the silk draped table close to the frame before exiting the stage. The leather cuffs on the frame still swayed when a blond man mounted the steps. Every inch of his well-muscled body gleamed with oil and he was clad in black bike shorts. He was the only person not wearing a mask and considering he resembled a Grecian god, Jane was grateful for the unimpeded view.
In one hand he held a leash attached to a collar worn by a woman who walked at his heels. She walked with her gaze forward and head held high. She was tall and very curvy, what Lily would call a juicy figure. A red half mask shielded her face.
Clad in a white sheath, her long reddish blonde hair hung in thick curly ropes to the tips of her erect nipples. Jane’s stomach tightened and her cunt gave a twinge.
The man led her to the frame before removing the leash. Taking her hands, he made quick work of binding her wrists with the leather cuffs. Dropping to his knees, he repeated the process with her ankles until she was fully bound with her arms and legs wide apart.
With the lighting as it was, her shift became sheer and her luscious curves were clearly illuminated. The sweet tuft of hair between her thighs was visible and Jane could swear she saw a damp spot on the sheath.
A male voice pronounced the woman to be “fucking incredible”.
The blond grasped the frame and released the lock. The frame rotated easily until the woman was facing away from the audience. Applying the lock, he secured the frame then reached for her.
Running his hand up the back of one leg, he raised the hem of the sheath to expose her plump buttocks.
Jane shuddered when he gave one ass cheek a firm squeeze. Moisture soaked the miniscule crotch of her thong panties. Never had she felt the desire to participate in a public scene such as this one though judging from her wet pussy, it was definitely a turn on for her. She licked her lips.
How did it feel to be on the stage in front of an audience and at this man’s mercy? Her corset seemed to shrink as it became harder to draw breath.
The man ran his hands over his slave’s plump buttocks, his tanned skin looked incredibly erotic against her pale flesh. He was speaking to her but Jane couldn’t make out what he was saying. His hand continued its slow movement, pausing from time to time to cup a handful of flesh and give it a gentle squeeze.
The woman’s hips began to move, pushing her plump backside against his hand as if to silently ask for more. A sharp crack rent the air and the room fell silent. The woman jerked away as if she’d experienced an electrical shock. A pale pink handprint appeared on her ass.
Jane’s thighs tightened and she choked back a whimper. Her grip on the champagne flute tightened.
“You will not move until I give you permission, woman.”
The deep voice sent tendrils of pleasure through Jane’s body. Her pussy clenched again and she swallowed the champagne in an effort to relieve her suddenly dry throat.
The master moved away from the woman to a table covered by a red silk cloth. He yanked away the cloth and Jane’s eyes widened when she saw what it had concealed. The table was covered with an array of sex toys, some of which she didn’t recognize though she would enjoy making their intimate acquaintance.
He chose a leather paddle and Jane almost slid off her chair. A rush of liquid heat invaded her cunt and her nipples ached.
He ran his hand over her buttocks then replaced his hand with the paddle, gently rubbing it over her ass. Her hips jerked and he delivered a swift swat to tender flesh.
The tension level in the room ratcheted higher an
d one woman in the audience gave a lusty sigh.
The man began paddling his submissive, the sound of leather against flesh was heady. His slave tried to keep her body still but it was a losing battle. With every blow her receptive body twisted and strained against the cuffs holding her in place.
Her silken whimpers grew louder with each stroke and sweat broke out on Jane’s upper lip. Tightening her thighs, though she wasn’t sure if it was to bring on an orgasm or avoid it. She feared if she were to touch herself now it would be all over.
She glanced at her watch.
Damn, eight more minutes to go.
“You haven’t obeyed your master.” His voice rang out. “And for that you must be reprimanded.”
He reached around the back of the frame and Jane heard the slide of metal. From the floor a wide black leather-covered table came up to the woman’s waist. The top of the frame bent forward, forcing her to lean on the table to support her upper torso. This position forced her legs wider, leaving her dripping pussy visible to those who were watching.
“You are not to come until I give you permission, slave.” He put his hand on the small of her back. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, master.” Her voice came out high and thin with need.
He brought the paddle down hard on her wet pussy and Jane bit her lip to keep from crying out. The woman’s shriek was long and loud causing a murmur to ripple through the audience. He continued paddling her, alternating between her ass and her wet pussy. Jane’s body reverberated with each blow.
The woman strained against the cuffs, trying to lean forward to open her legs as far as possible. Her plump backside was angled toward him, eager for the punishment her master dealt.
Jane’s arousal spiraled tighter. Her panties were soaked and her corset was at least two sizes smaller than when she’d put it on. Desperate for something to hold onto, she relinquished her flute then gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white with exertion.
The slave’s flesh had turned a glowing pink. Standing on her tiptoes, her weight was fully supported by the frame. She thrashed against her restraints, sobbing with her need for release.
Jane could sympathize with her plight. Shifting in her seat, she leaned forward to place more pressure on her clit.
The master continued the sensual torture and the woman’s cries grew louder. The audience began to cheer them on; the voices growing more plentiful with each blow. Jane saw more than a few spectators were putting on their own little shows.
One woman, not ten feet away, had a man between her thighs eating pussy while two more laved her breasts with their eager mouths. They were oblivious to anyone else even being in the room.
A whimper broke from Jane’s lips.
More than anything she wanted to be the woman on the stage. She longed to know how it felt to be mastered in front of a crowd, her arousal and submission on display.
Her heartbeat increased. She wasn’t sure if she were more shocked or excited by what was happening on stage, all she knew was she was hot for the experience. The idea of being bare before a crowd of people while a talented master played her body like a musical instrument was enough to put her on the edge of a monster release.
The masked man dropped the paddle and began spanking her with the flat of his hand. The woman’s cries of arousal turned to animal-like howls of pleasure.
Jane’s breathing grew short and she shifted her hips to arrange even more pressure on her pussy. Her skirt eased up to flash an inch of her thighs over her stockings. Her level of arousal was both shocking and gratifying at the same time. She was only a hair’s breath from climax and she hadn’t even touched herself.
“You’re ready to come, aren’t you?”
Chapter Four
The sound of a Spanish accented voice in her ear caused Jane to jump. She turned to see who spoke only to have the stranger prevent her from moving. His hands, large and hot, landed on her shoulders. His warm breath caressed the nape of her neck and her nipples beaded painfully.
“No,” she lied.
His firm tone coupled with the Spanish accent spawned goose bumps over her sensitized flesh. His voice reminded her of warm chocolate and rumpled sheets. Dare she hope this was the birthday boy?
“Watch her.” His mouth brushed her earlobe and she shuddered. “Are you picturing yourself up on the stage? Can you imagine what she must be feeling right now?”
“Yes.” Jane’s body trembled. “I can.”
“She is quite aroused, no?”
Her tongue refused to cooperate so she settled for nodding her head in agreement. On stage, the man had turned the frame so the woman was facing the audience. The frame had been adjusted and she was upright. Her master was working a bright purple flogger over her breasts.
“See how deft her master is? Gentle, delicate blows to follow the harder ones?”
His lips brushed her shoulder and she shuddered.
“He soothes her aroused skin with his hand, careful to not strike her twice in the same place.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulders and his thumbs began rubbing the base of her neck. Her breath caught and the stiff corset pressed against her erect nipples.
“It is easy to see he cares for her pleasure more than his own.”
“He’s a considerate master,” she whispered.
“That he is. Gabriel loves her very much.” His warm fingers traced a blazing path up the back of her neck. “Are you new to the scene?”
Jane shook her head.
“You’re a submissive.” He spoke as if he already knew the answer.
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” Pleasure laced his deep voice. “Do you want to take her place on the stage? Would it pleasure you to have an audience while your master played your body like the sweetest guitar?”
“Yes.” Jane squirmed in her chair. If she pressed her thighs any tighter she was afraid they’d fuse together.
“Imagine how aroused she is—” his voice dropped lower, “—her sweet cream is running down the inside of her legs. With each touch her body strains for release but her master won’t allow it. Her pleasure is his responsibility, his gift to her.
“See how he gauges her response? He knows when to back off and prolong her pleasure. Their dance—it can last for hours.”
Jane whimpered.
“Her heart beats wildly and her breathing grows short. She’s given herself to him totally, trusting him to take care of her needs. See how he worships her?”
Warm lips touched her shoulder and she shivered at the fleeting caress.
“She’s close now.”
The stranger’s hands covered her shoulders, his long fingers coming to rest on the tops of her breasts. He eased her back to lean against his broad chest. The warmth of his body seeped into hers and his masculine scent surrounded her.
“With every stroke it becomes harder and harder for her to not reach orgasm, she’s ascending the peak. See how she’s pushing out her ass? She’s begging for more, for something to fill her, his cock perhaps.”
Jane tried to swallow her whimper, but it escaped anyway.
“Don’t do that.” Silken hair touched her shoulder. “Never stifle the sounds of your arousal they are beautiful as you are.”
“They’ll hear me,” she hissed.
“Who cares? You want to be the woman on the stage where everyone will watch. Does it matter if a few see you here in the shadows?” His chuckle was deep, rough. “Gabriel and his slave hold the audience’s attention in the palms of their hands. I could strip you bare and fuck you right here, and I doubt anyone would notice.”
The raw image sent earthquakes of need through her body. She jerked and couldn’t help but moan. Her tormentor’s grip tightened.
“You’re very responsive.”
His voice was low and guttural signaling his arousal. Holding her closer, she felt a hard bulge against her hip. Running his finger along the lace edge of her corset, her breath caught and the
burning in her pussy increased.
“I will taste you. I will dip my tongue into your pussy and lap up the sweetest of creams.”
“Oh,” she breathed.
“Then I will sink my cock into your beautiful cunt. Your flesh, so tight around mine, will weep with sheer joy as I fuck you.” His teeth nipped her earlobe. “I want to spank your beautiful ass until your skin turns pink and you’re howling with release.”
Mother of God!
“I will bend you over my knee and…”
Jane’s body shook, her need for orgasm was so acute it bordered on pain. She didn’t know how much more of this she’d be able to take.
“…paddle you with my hands—”
“What time is it?” she gasped.
“What?”
“Is it midnight?”
“If I say it is, will you turn into a pumpkin?” Amusement laced his words.
“Q-q-quite possibly.”
“One minute ’til midnight,” he said.
A sob was ripped from her throat as one blunt finger worked its way into her corset. He caressed her nipple, and she jerked as if she’d been hit with a bolt of lightning.
“Spend the evening with me, beauty.”
His tongue snaked out to caress the base of her neck. The touch sent a rush of heat through her body and she feared she’d burst into flames at any minute.
“Let me master you…”
His teeth grazed her shoulder.
“Taste you…”
A second finger plundered her corset to tease her other nipple. Her hips twisted, rocking forward, straining for release.
“I will seduce you…”
Her head dropped onto his shoulder, and her eyes closed.
“I will bind you to my bed. I wish to make you my most cherished slave—”
The earthy, vivid images created a series of shockwaves in her body. Arching back against him, her release was so close she could taste it. With the lightest of touches to her clit she’d explode into a million shining pieces in his arms.
Seducing Jane Porter Page 3