Afterlife (47 page)

head, then drop it back. With a smile,

he cupped her skul in

his hand, let her fal al the way into

his palm, a dizzying

sensation as she looked up at him.

“Hel o,” he said.

She may have mouthed
Hi
. She

wasn’t sure. The men

were flanking her on three sides, Jon

in front. When she

straightened to look at him again, the

serious set to his

mouth heralded a shift as distinctive

as if he’d barked an

order, only this was a command that

hummed through her

blood, not needing anything as overt

as sound. On instinct,

she nodded to each man again, only

this time she lowered

her eyes, acknowledging she wasn’t

surrounded merely by

Jon and his friends, but four different

Masters.

Remembering Jon’s questions

earlier, and her own

thoughts about where her boundaries

were, who could

touch her at his behest, she knew

these had been at the top

of that short list.

“Gentlemen, strip her for punishment,

please. Leave the

heels on.”

Punishment?
It was a word capable

of making her even

more off center and short of breath,

but she tried to calm

herself with the three-point breathing,

not wanting to miss a

single second, even as she harbored a

dark fear of the

things al of it might release in her.

When she’d looked into

Jon’s face, seen the mesmerizing

power in the blue depths,

the thought of what he might be

capable of unleashing

inside her made her tremble.

Peter was the one who untied the

sash, his fingers

moving along her powdered skin,

bringing her the smel of

lavender. He didn’t hesitate or

fumble, a man familiar with

the curves and vulnerabilities of a

woman. Since he lifted

the fabric away from her skin as he

freed her breasts, he

didn’t brush her nipples, though they

were erect and

begging for friction. Then down to

her waist, over her hips,

his knuckles sliding along her skin as

he brought the dress

to her ankles.

When he touched her calf, she lifted

her feet clear of it,

one at a time. Lucas’ steadying grip

was on her waist. Then

Peter nudged her to a wider stance,

until her heels were

placed outside the range of her

shoulders, putting her off

balance. The pil ars were adjusted,

aligned with her ankles,

and then they were cuffed firmly so

there was no range of

movement, even if she wavered like

a reed in a monsoon.

Ben and Lucas pul ed the top of the

pil ars out to form a

vee angle, so her arms were stretched

out as far as they

could go. They adjusted them so her

shoulders were pul ed

back, her breasts thrust out, her

bound ankles creating an

angle that arched her back and tilted

her ass upward as

wel . It was an extremely sexual and

open position, entirely

vulnerable and arousing at once, the

pil ars locked in place

to hold her fast.

Ben had stepped off to the side with

Jon, his hand on the

side of Jon’s neck. It was the

affectionate gesture of a

brother, similar to the way Jon

dipped his head to speak

back in his ear, so they could have a

private moment yet

hear one another over the crowd

noise. Ben nodded,

glanced toward her. When he’d first

stepped onto the

platform, Rachel hadn’t seen it in the

affable body language

and genial expression, but now she

saw clearly what Dana

had said about him.
He’s probably

the toughest, most

hardcore Master of all of them.

It was in the intent way his gaze

passed over her body,

stripped except for her col ar and

high heels. Perhaps

because of how open she was right

now, in many ways, she

saw a glimpse of exactly what kind

of Master he was. He

could judge exactly how much a

woman could endure, but

he’d then bring her to such an

overwhelming subspace

she’d leap off that edge, merely if he

commanded her to do

it. That was his thing. He demanded

utter devotion, proof of

a woman’s unconditional surrender.

Oddly, she sensed he

wanted a woman’s soul, but not her

heart.

It was a little frightening to recognize

such a thing in this

defenseless moment, but Jon was

here. He was her

Master. He knew her heart. She was

standing naked in a

crowded club, cuffed to two posts.

She was trembling, but

any trepidation was of herself, of the

sheer power of what

was inside of her, responding to al

this. Craving more,

harder. A pressure was growing

inside that needed pain,

stimulation, something to release it.

Lucas stepped in front of her,

blocking her view of Jon.

What was the cologne he wore? It

was such a male exotic

scent, it made her think of Egyptian

pharaohs again, as did

the precise cut of his cheekbones,

those intense eyes.

“Open up for me,” he said. She saw

he had a gag like the

one Jon had used the first night, the

one shaped like a

man’s cock. This one was shorter,

but thicker.

Obediently, she parted her lips. As

the shape of it

passed between them, knowing a

man’s eyes was on her,

watching her take it, she curled her

tongue around it

instinctively. It was flavored with

honey and sugar, stirring

her saliva glands and making her

suck a little harder.

Rather than fastening it in place right

away, Lucas played

with her a few moments, sliding it

back and then forward,

watching her work the length of it.

The muscle flexing in his

jaw made it clear she was doing a

good job of affecting

him. Her body rocked toward him,

even as her gaze

strained to look around his shoulder.

Where was Jon? And

what did he mean by punishment?

She didn’t have long to find out.

Lucas at last strapped it to her head,

smoothing the

fasteners beneath her hair line at the

nape, though he made

them snug, so the gag pushed down

on her tongue when

ful y seated, rendering her silent and

keeping her from

teasing the gag, or him, further. There

was a glint in his

gaze, a light smile on his lips as he

caressed her stil

working jaw. Leaning forward, he

brushed her temple with

his lips. “You get over your fears,

sweetheart, you’re going

to be damn irresistible. Jon’s going

to lose his mind over

you.”

He stepped away then, letting her see

Jon again with her

hungry eyes. He moved forward,

circling her as Lucas and

Peter drew back to two chairs placed

at the rear corner of

the platform where she could see

them, making it clear she

was on display for them. She wasn’t

sure how she would

have felt about facing the unknown

crowd, but knowing they

were there, at her back, and these

Doms were at her

front… Oh God and Goddess, the

heat of it was making her

dizzy.

Jon passed behind her, his fingers

trailing down her

back, but he stopped short of her ass.

He shifted, and she

could tel from the corner of her eye

that he’d faced the

crowd. At the same moment, the

attendant to whom Ben

had been talking pul ed a curtain

cord. The black drape

behind Peter’s and Lucas’ chairs

drew back, revealing a

mirror that al owed the crowd to see

her face, her gagged

mouth and needy expression. Worse,

she could see al of

them staring at her.

Jon’s hand settled on her back, a

reassurance. However,

when he addressed the crowd, she

learned his velvet voice

translated wel into the ringing tones

of a Master

addressing a crowd. It even brought

the noise from other

nearby demonstrations down to more

hushed tones.

“The submissive you see before you

has been in need of

a Master’s punishment for a long,

long time. She believes

she’s not beautiful, not worthy of a

Master’s love and

attention. Of my love and attention.

I’m very disappointed by

this.”

The

overpowering

physical

arousal

she

was

experiencing hadn’t anticipated an

emotional assault. It hit

her below her heart, a sharp blow.

Her lips pressed down

on the gag, her nostrils flaring with

the need for air, fingers

clutching at the posts. When her gaze

flickered to Peter,

Lucas and Ben, who’d now taken a

seat with them, she was

startled to see Jon’s tone reflected in

their faces. Reproof,

stern admonition and something else

that stirred that pain

higher up, made her heart beat faster.

This wasn’t

roleplaying or playacting. The things

Dana had hinted at,

their cohesion as a solid, Dominant

unit, was clear here.

Jon’s intent was ful y reflected in

their body language. They

didn’t like what they were hearing,

and they would al make

her accountable for it.

“If I wanted to use her like a cheap

whore, hand her out to

anyone who wanted her, she believes

that would be my

right. Even if it destroyed everything

fragile and amazing

that has only recently begun to stretch

its wings inside of

her. She doesn’t believe she deserves

anything more,

believes she can’t hope for anything

more than that.”

Okay, that ache was ascending into

her throat. She

looked toward the foot of the mirror,

so she could cast her

gaze down, stare at the row of

polished shoes and wel -cut

slacks. She couldn’t look at any of

the men. She wanted

free. This push-pul between the

emotional and the physical

was putting the taste of panic in her

mouth.

“She doesn’t realize what a gift she

is, what a treasure

I’ve discovered in her.” He settled

his hand on her shoulder

now, that tender juncture with her

neck. The pointed caress

stil ed her. “But I think a little wel -

placed punishment wil

help her discover her value, help her

strengthen her

realization of what being a slave to a

Master truly means. In

the past, when someone committed a

crime, the authorities

punished them in public like this, so

that they remembered

the lesson and never repeated it.

That’s our intent tonight,

but for her ultimate pleasure and

yours. As most of you

know, we don’t often play this deeply

in public, but when

one who belongs to us needs the

lesson, we don’t hesitate

to do what needs to be done.”

You belong to one of them, but in a

peripheral way, you

belong to all of them.

Jon moved back to her front now, his

firm touch moving

over her tense fingers in the cuff. He

loosened their curl so

they lay flat on the wood again, then

let his hand drift over

her arm. She gazed up at him,

suffering, communicating

myriad things she didn’t know how to

express, so maybe

the gag was a good thing. She didn’t

know if this was

where she wanted to be anymore,

though some part of her

knew she did, that she couldn’t back

away from this. He’d

brought her to the starting line, and he

was chal enging her

to have the courage to run toward

something instead of

away from it.

“I’m here,” he said, meeting her gaze.

Touching her chin,

stroking over her stretched lips, he

tightened his grip on her

jaw, underscoring his words. “I’m

always going to be here.”

* * * * *

He shifted then, so blissful y al she

could see right now

was him, not the mirror or the others.

“Rachel, did you ever

have a male teacher when you were

in school? One who

attracted you in a particular way?”

He spoke in that raised

voice that carried through the crowd,

but the way he kept

his focus on her, it was al about the

two of them.

An answer to his question sprang

right into her mind. Mr.

Montgomery. Mixed with his

energetic and creative