The Professional (34 page)

Sipping champagne and watching unabashed sex while his scent permeated my mind.

In fact, all of my senses were heightened. There was music, even laughter, but the rest of the sounds were erotic. Moans, groans, and rampant screams. Crackling leather, clanking chains, and snapping floggers.

Against my ass, I could feel Sevastyan’s heavy cock like a red-hot brand. I found myself squirming against it, rubbing my thong against my wet labia.

Even the bubbling champagne tickled my tongue. I imagined pouring it down his body and licking him clean. . . .

Yet aside from all I was seeing and feeling, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Sevastyan had chosen me to bring
here, had purchased this room with me in mind. The idea of him taking such care to get every detail right moved me.

He truly was trying for us.

I finished my champagne, vaguely aware that he took the flute from me.

Then his hand wandered up the slit of my gown, which had ridden up well above the top of my thigh-high. “Spread your legs as much as you can.”

Never looking away from the spectacle, I did, bending one knee over his legs. I wanted my thighs wider; I wanted to be rid of this confining dress. I needed his skin against mine, as much as I needed to see everything happening in the ring—every new knot, kiss, whipping, and release. My gaze bounced from one scene to the next.

“You can’t even decide where you want to look,” Sevastyan observed with dark amusement. Using his forefinger, he started to draw lazy circles on my inner thigh. “And your heart’s racing.”

The champagne and wine I’d consumed, combined with my constricting bustier, were making me light-headed. My breaths were shallow, breasts quivering above my bodice.

They must have attracted his attention—with his other hand, he began tracing those same circles over the tops of my breasts. Then came an electric shock. Part of my areola was peeking out above the bustline of the gown, and he was lightly scraping his nail over it.

If he kept this up, I’d probably orgasm. “Sevastyan, before I forget . . . no matter what happens, I want to thank you for bringing me here.”

“You thank me? What does my taking you here say about me, Natalya? To win a woman, I am willing to defile her?”

“Defile?” My tone was incredulous as I regarded a couple at the far right of the ring. The man was tied down to a spanking bench while a woman in thigh-high boots caned him. His skin was sweating, muscles straining, expression ecstatic. “This is one of the most glorious things I’ve ever witnessed.”

Sevastyan followed my gaze, then frowned as if we couldn’t be looking at the same thing. “You consider this so?”

“Without a doubt.” There was pageantry all around. Between participants, there was ceremony.

He reached my thong and found it soaked, a groan reverberating in his chest. “What are you enjoying most?” he rasped. “The men? The women?”

“Both.” When I’d watched same-sex couples online, it’d always been crazy hot. But tonight?

Mercy.

I admired one pairing toward the back of the ring. Two unclothed women were sixty-nining, so caught up in each other they were oblivious to the sex all around them. The top one had luscious ebony skin and the bottom one was even paler than I was. The tableaux they presented was so surreal, I didn’t think I’d forget such a divine sight for the rest of my life.

Once I could finally break my stare, I found Sevastyan studying my expression. Determining what turned me on?

“You’re not going to watch?” I asked.

“I’m looking at what arouses me most.” He regarded me with such intensity that I had to avert my gaze.

I surveyed the room behind him. More light spilled in from the glass, highlighting those draped shapes. There was apparatus in here as well. Solely for our use.

Leisurely petting my wet panties, he said, “We aren’t here just to watch.”

“Good.” I felt like I was on the cusp of discovering not only what made Sevastyan tick, but myself as well, unveiling our most forbidden fantasies. At last I would alleviate my sexual curiosity, which had grown like an inferno inside me.

“I’m going to push you tonight, Natalie. To determine whether this is truly what you need. You’ll be given three tests, and if you pass them, this life will be yours as you desire it.”

“Tests?” He had my full attention.

“The first is that you obey me absolutely—and readily—in every command, even ones outside your normal comfort zone. The second is that you accept any tools I decide to use on you.”
Tools?
 “The third is that you become aroused by everything I do to you.”

Merely talking about this was arousing me. “How will you know whether I’m turned on by you and your tools—or by the freaking orgy taking place right in front of me?”

His lips curled. “I’ll know. Now, up you go.” Once we were standing, he took off his jacket and undid his tie. With a careless air, he cast them both away. “Give me your jewelry.”

I removed my earrings and pendant, handing them to him.

Such a guy, he
pocketed
them. “Slip out of your heels.” When I did, he turned me to unzip my gown. “You still want an introduction into this world?”

“Yes.” I had to suck in so he could get the zipper down.

“You’re certain?”

“One hundred percent.” I was ready to partake, to enjoy—and to make progress in our relationship. We’d had two hurdles—sexual frustration and lack of emotional intimacy. Tonight we would dismantle the first, paving the way toward fixing the second.

Once I’d stepped from the gown, he balled it up and lobbed it in the direction of his jacket.
Men.

With me still turned from him, he knelt to roll down one of my hose; then off went the other one, leaving me in only my mask, thong, and bustier.

Before he stood, he nipped the cleft of my ass with his teeth, sending a thrill through me. “Turn around.” When I did, he bit back a groan to say, “My God, you are lovely.”

A guttural yell from the circus ring drew my attention, but he pinched my chin, bringing my focus back to him. “Pay attention only to me. I’ll tell you when you can look again.”

So I’d be able to hear—yet not see? My imagination was going to run wild.

Releasing me, he crossed to one of the room’s draped shapes. He uncovered a table topped with an extensive assortment of toys, paddles, and various bondage gear. There were a lot of items I’d never seen—and couldn’t determine a purpose for.

He returned with four leather cuffs, tossing three on the settee. They were thick, lined with padded cloth, each with a large metal ring sewn into the middle.

With a kiss to my right wrist, he buckled the first cuff. A kiss to my left wrist preceded the next.

Dropping to one knee, he lifted my right foot to rest on his thigh. He caressed my ankle as he coiled leather around it.

This process was a foreplay all its own, whetting my arousal even more. As he buckled the last cuff, I peered down at my body, at my striking leather bonds. This was truly happening! When he stood, I went to my toes to give him an adoring kiss across his lips.

I drew back, gazing up at him, letting him see all I was feeling.

Desire, affection, excitement . . . and more.

“I think I see the hope you spoke of earlier.”
You do.
“My
Natalya comes to such a place and feels
that
? I wonder what else you feel. What you feel for me?”

Too much!
I pressed my lips together.

“I’ll get that answer from you soon enough. Now, come.” He led me over to a dais beside the tool table. I glanced up with a thread of trepidation to see a chain dangling from the ceiling.

He smoothed his palms down my arms, then raised them over my head, locking the cuff rings to a loop in the chain. Though he hadn’t suspended me, I was definitely held fast.

“Spread your legs,” he said, kneeling beside me.

Trust him, Nat.
I tentatively eased my feet apart.

“Wider.” He put pressure on the inside of a cuff.

Once I’d spread my legs wide, he attached the right cuff to a recessed bolt in the floor that I hadn’t seen. He affixed the left cuff to another hidden bolt, each click and snap only heightening this spine-tingling anticipation.

He rose, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Behind his mask, his golden eyes roamed over me.

I was well and truly bound. I had to choke down a spike of panic.
I might’ve gone too far.

No, no, no. Nothing could signal my trust more than giving up total control to this man. And, in turn, he would trust me more.

Right?

His gaze narrowed intently on my bustier. With his attention distracted, I could have peeked at the orgy. The glass stretched before me, a tantalizing portal, but I refused to look until he told me I could—even when I heard the crack of a bullwhip slice through the air.

With great relish, Sevastyan began unhooking each individual eyelet of the bustier from the bottom up. When I’d donned
it earlier, I’d noticed that there was a profusion of hooks. Now I realized why; unwrapping his belonging was part of the ritual for him—one he obviously savored.

As did I. Soon his roughened hands would replace the material. . . .

When he unfastened the last taut hook, my breasts spilled free, the sight earning a groan from him. He discarded the garment, then turned to my thong, ripping it on one side.

Over the sound of my gasps, he rent the other side, letting the wet material land between my legs.

Except for my mask, I was nude; he remained dressed.

Raking his gaze over my body, he yanked on his shirt collar, popping a few buttons free at his throat. “I did choose your mask deliberately.”

“Why a butterfly?”

He met my eyes. “Because you’re elusive to me. Because I haven’t caught you yet.” He reached forward to roll my nipples between his fingers until they jutted lewdly, until I was arching up for more.

Before leaving me, he gave each of my breasts a light slap—which I found almost reassuring. He returned with two slim metal bars. My pulse quickened when I recognized what they were: the clamps from the picture I’d shown him, the two conductor’s wands—except these had a sexy chain attached to the ends that would loop down toward my navel.

“Are you ready to be tested, Natalya?” He began screwing the bars down over my straining nipples, as far away from the tips as possible.

The pinch was biting, but I didn’t shy away. Hadn’t I specifically asked for this?

Once he’d secured the bars, I looked down, startled by how
turned on I was by the view. Seeing it in a magazine was provocative. Seeing my own nipples like this was . . . sublime.

“Look at you. Bound and clamped for my pleasure. How long I’ve imagined this.”

“Is it everything you hoped it would be?”

“Better.
Ideal’naya.
” Unimprovable.

His husky compliment only added to the stimulation, so I aired a very real fear: “Sevastyan, what if I come before you want me to?”

“You’ll be punished.” The gleam of anticipation in his eyes made my hips roll, pulling on my already stretched thighs.

He lifted the delicate chain that hung from the ends of my clamps. “This chain goes in your mouth between your teeth. If anything happens that you don’t want, all you have to do is drop it for the night to end. Period. And you know I do as I say I will.”

I frowned, thinking he was much too cavalier about ending this night. While I appreciated that he’d set up the equivalent of a safe word,
nothing
could end this. Least of all my botching it!

When he offered me the chain, I took it into my mouth and bit down—which tugged my nipples even more. Still, I could stand it. I could stand anything.

“You can look at the ring now, Natalie.” Something in his tone made my ears twitch.

“But for this to continue, you must be vulnerable.” He moved to my side. “Revealed. I told you that no one else will touch you; I said nothing about them beholding you.”

What was he talking about?

“I intend to clear the glass so everyone can see my beautiful prize. . . .”

W
hat??
My jaw slackened, and I almost dropped the chain.

To have dozens of people see me strung up? While I was naked, clamped, and about to have who-knew-what done to me?

It was one thing to flash guys at the creek near home. This was a different world.

Sevastyan picked up that remote, his expression inscrutable. “If you don’t want me to reveal this room, all you have to do is drop the chain.”

Realization hit me. He thought I would balk—that we would go no further than this! And then he could say he’d tried.

So he
hadn’t
been taking pains to please me? No, he’d been setting me up for failure.

Bastard! To hell with that. I had on a mask; no one knew who I was, and I’d never see these people again. This was one night of my life, a few hours of gossamer fantasy.

“Drop the chain—or prepare to feel their eyes on you, coveting every inch of your pale skin.”