Afterlife (49 page)

incoherently against the

gag. Her nipples were as stiff and

aching with arousal as

they’d ever been. She thought of

Dana, being the

beneficiary of that adept mouth

whenever Peter wanted to

torment and pleasure her both.

Then Lucas. He’d given her a taste of

the cleverness of

his mouth, but she believed without

question that he could

drive a woman to complete insanity

with it—and she’d

embrace it. Her pussy contracted, just

from passing her

gaze over those firm lips that would

stil have her scent on

them.

They were both wel aroused, two

powerful men who

reminded her of the holograph, each

man waiting his turn

with intent, hot gazes, but after she

completed the etiquette,

they nodded, acknowledging her, and

moved back to the

chairs. The hickory switch slid over

her shoulder, curved

around her throat, lifting her chin as

Ben bent over her

shoulder, pressing his body against

her ass so that thick

plug seated even more deeply.

“I didn’t hear my thank you, darlin’.”

She said it one more time, and when

his hand

descended, gripping her ass, she

wondered at how it

stimulated both the lingering pain and

the pleasured nerve

endings. It surprised her when his

lips brushed her neck

with far more gentleness. “Jon’s

right,” he purred. “You’re a

pure treasure. Unlike Jon, I’m going

to hope you forget this

lesson, so one day I have to help him

repeat it. Harder.”

Jon exchanged an unfathomable look

with his friend that

she wasn’t sure was accord or

warning. Her mind couldn’t

wrap itself around anything that

complex. Two plus two was

far beyond her right now, though she

was sure that the

answer being four wasn’t a

coincidence, given what had

been happening for the past…

however long it had been.

It wasn’t over yet. The section of the

platform that held the

pil ars was marked by a circle on the

carpet, but it wasn’t

merely a design. It was a dais that

could be rotated. As Jon

moved to the control and flipped it,

engaging the motor,

alarm flooded her chest. Instead of a

mirror reflection, with

his shoulders mostly blocking the

view, she was about to

come face-to-face with the wal of

strangers witnessing her

punishment.

Chapter Sixteen

May al the gods help her, she

wondered if the entire

population of the club had moved to

this spot. It was a sea

of attentive faces, the measuring eyes

of Masters and

Mistresses, the rapt, intent faces of

submissives and every

range of flavor in between. She now

understood, in every

quaking, aroused nerve, the

significance of administering

this kind of punishment in front of an

audience. The stares,

the energy of the dense half circle of

bodies around her,

underscored how exposed she was,

displayed for them this

way.

In the mirror, she’d seen that the men

had aroused her so

her nipples were large and hard, her

cunt dark, flushed and

dripping profusely. Not only did her

thighs glisten with the

wet tracks, but a tiny, embarrassing

puddle marked the

platform between her legs. Her pussy

was stretched by that

dildo, the other deep in her ass, both

of them harnessed

there so that Jon could keep her

impaled as long as he felt

necessary. The way she was

restrained, her arms stretched

out and back, she looked like a bird

pinned in the position

of flight, her breasts thrust forward

like tempting fruit to be

handled, her ass pertly in the air as if

inviting animal

coupling.

Aroused, terrified at every level,

there was stil another

component to it. Every part of her

was attuned to the fact

this was Jon’s wil . Jon had done this

to her, she’d

surrendered to whatever Jon desired,

because his desire

was in fact the same as her own,

impossible to tel where

one began and the other ended. He’d

given her a ful -

flavored taste of what he’d indicated

earlier. When it was

like this, it was the way it was meant

to be, both what the

Master and slave wanted, needed,

craved. Demanded and

begged for at once. Though she was

in a state she’d never

before experienced, her emotions a

mix too complicated to

track, fear warring with desire, she

felt like she’d come

home at last.

When he turned her, she was staring

into the crowd, but

that was far too much, so her eyes

flickered over their

heads. Since she was on a raised

platform, it put her in line

of sight with the elevated mezzanine

and the bar, al the

additional faces there. She would

have retreated swiftly to

the safety of a lowered gaze and the

hope Jon wouldn’t

make her raise it again, but one of the

people at the bar

caught her attention and held it like a

polar magnet.

Dana.

The blind woman was not alone.

From the second her

gaze landed upon them, Rachel had

no doubt who the

women with her were.

Apparently, with the exception of

Dana, blondes were

favored by the Kensington men. Dana

sat to the left of two

exceptional y beautiful females. Both

wore tailored skirts,

thin blouses and tasteful, expensive

jewelry that suggested

they’d come straight from work.

However, something about

the way they were worn suggested

what was beneath them

was far less office-etiquette. Or that

the women were simply

responding to their environment.

The blonde next to Dana gripped her

hand. Her lips

moved, perhaps describing

everything to the blind woman.

While the crowd before them were

voyeurs, that wasn’t

what Rachel felt from the unwavering

regard of the three

women. They were witnesses, bound

to her in…solidarity.

That blonde had to be Cassandra

Adler, Lucas’ wife. Her

reasoning skil s were not at their best

at the moment—she

gave another moan as Jon made an

adjustment to the plug

in her backside, stroking the rim—but

other levels of

perception were on high volume. She

expected if she could

see her chakras, they’d be like disco

strobe lights, open

and vibrant, receptors on maximum

sensitivity.

She identified the blonde next to

Dana as Cass because

the third woman was intimately

flanked by a man leaning

against the bar, a relaxed but obvious

escort to al three. He

was standing, not on a barstool, since

she didn’t imagine

he was the type of man who’d ever

take up a seat when a

woman might need one.

Just as she’d recognized the two

women, she knew who

he was. The Italian-Texas parentage

showed in the dark

eyes and close-cropped hair, the

handsome yet rugged

features. The mantle of power he

wore on his shoulders

didn’t need the enhancement of the

business suit he wore.

He’d shed his tie, the shirt open at the

throat, but if he’d

stood there naked, it wouldn’t make

him any less

intimidating, or mesmerizing. This

had to be Matt

Kensington.

So therefore, the woman to his

immediate left was

Savannah. She was everything

Rachel had read about.

Cool, breathtaking, intimidating in

her own right. Yet when

Rachel’s gaze tripped over the stil ,

porcelain features, she

found herself unexpectedly trapped

there…in recognition.

Maybe everyone else would see

reserve, but Rachel saw

a history in those eyes, a history that

mirrored her own. This

woman knew what it was to live for

years
thinking she was

fal ing short, that she’d never be good

enough. Feeling like

a failure inside, even as everyone

told her she was

successful.

It resonated inside her, squeezed her

heart hard. Seeing

that made Rachel see other little

things. The way Savannah

held her jaw, how her fingers were

over Matt’s on the bar, a

little tense and unsettled, as if she’d

recognized herself in

Rachel as wel . Matt was giving al

three women his

protection, but the way he curved into

the side of her body

in particular showed he was in sync

with her needs and

moods. The way a Master would be.

Jon slid his hands over Rachel’s

shoulders, up to the

back of her neck. As he folded his

body over her,

blanketing her, the gag loosened.

Shaken by what that brief

bond with the women had given her,

she turned her face

into his neck, breathing in his scent,

burrowing as much as

she could, wanting to be subsumed in

the stil ness of his

very soul. He gave her a blissful

second, his head pressed

down over hers.

“I love you,” he said softly, and slid

the gag from her

mouth, caressing her lips with a cloth

to dry the saliva that

came with it. “I want them to hear

you come, every word you

say, every plea you make. Don’t hold

back. Your Master

wants to hear you.”

Now he straightened, his hands

moving down her back,

and she groaned as he worked the

larger dildo out of her

pussy, though he left the one in her

ass. He massaged her

labia, teased her cunt until she was

making those cries

again. The crowd was a heaving sea

of shifting bodies,

flashing eyes, bared teeth. She

careened upon the waves

of pure lust. It was stoked by the

more intimate and

personal scene that unfolded before

her at the bar. Not

having the mirror where she could

watch Jon, as she

wanted so desperately to do, she kept

her gaze there.

Peter had left the platform to join

Dana. As he stepped

onto that end of the mezzanine, he

slid an arm around his

petite submissive, lifting her ful off

the stool to kiss her with

erotic demand that made Rachel

gasp, her own body

hungering for such intimate contact.

As he lowered her

back to the seat, stil kissing her, he

slid his hand between

the legs that Dana parted

immediately. He rubbed her

beneath the latex mini-skirt she wore

as she clutched his

biceps. Rachel noticed she kept hold

of Cass’ hand, their

fingers tangled and stroking one

another unconsciously,

caught up in the same wave as

Rachel.

Sliding Savannah’s hair to the side,

Matt bent to touch

his mouth to the delicate flesh under

her ear. Her long nails

cut into his palm as he slipped one of

the buttons of that

silky blouse. As Rachel watched,

panting, he reached in to

cup her breast, lifted it free of a lacy

bra and stroked a

thumb over a prominent nipple,

obvious through the sheer

fabric. Savannah’s head dropped

back against his broad

shoulder, her face turning away to

give him better access.

But even through that, the women’s

attention came back

to Rachel. Though Matt and Peter

weren’t looking toward

her at the moment, she felt a link to

them as wel . It was her

and Jon and them. The mass of

humanity drove her arousal

even higher from their presence, but

what gathered it al

together was this intimate circle, the

fact they’d pul ed her

into the center of it. And what would

shatter her, take her

completely over, was the man behind

her now.

Jon put his hands on her hips again,

and she cried out,

sheer ecstasy, emotional and

physical, as his heated, bare

cock pushed into her. She wished she

could see it, the

graceful movement of his body as he

opened his slacks

and levered the thick organ to her

opening. Stretched and

abused, she nevertheless welcomed

him with tight, slick

muscles, holding him as he drove in

deep, joining with her

there in front of al those eyes.

She was so hot and overcome by al

of it, the climax

thundered toward her like an