She peered over her shoulder at Cole, who sat as still as a statue, his spine rigid and his hands resting on his thighs. Adrian removed her wristband and her dress, leaving her completely naked on the stage.
What were the members thinking? Were they disgusted by her body? Several club members and a few trainees gathered in front of the stage, ready for the demonstration to begin. Tonight, she was the headliner.
Whispered words of the crowd reached her ears. Brave. Exquisite. Submissive.
Logan spun her around so her back was to the audience, then circled behind her. “I’m going to place a blindfold over your eyes.” She sucked in a breath as he tied a satin sash around her head, submerging her in total darkness. “I want you to relax and breathe slowly. Like this. In and out. In and out.”
She focused on following his command, rhythmically inhaling and exhaling until all her muscles loosened and the sounds of the room melted away.
Her body betrayed her arousal. Exposed to the air, her nipples puckered, the tightness of them almost causing pain, and she grew slick between her thighs at the notion that everyone, including Cole, was watching.
Did it turn him on to see her helpless? To see other men touch her?
Without the use of her eyes, her other senses took control. The heat of both men seeped into her, enveloping her in a safe cocoon where she could surrender to their ministrations and turn herself over to a new experience.
“I’m going to start by binding your wrists together over your head and then creating a harness around your breasts. If you feel any discomfort, tingling, or numbness, I want you to let me know,” the voice she recognized as Logan’s said.
“Yes, Sir.”
Logan proceeded to speak in low tones to Adrian, instructing him on proper knot technique as he pulled her arms up straight and tied her wrists together. A hand stroked her back, up and down, each time moving closer to her bottom. She squirmed, rising up on her toes, wanting those fingers to trail down her crack and cup her pussy.
The hand spanked her behind. “None of that.”
Grinning, she recognized the voice and the slap as belonging to Adrian. “Sorry, Sir.”
She wasn’t.
Adrian tugged her ponytail. “You’ve gotten cheeky since you’ve gotten here.”
If he thought that would deter her, he was sadly mistaken. She’d take cheeky over wallflower any day. In the last couple of days, she’d become more confident in both her body and her sexuality. No one here would judge her for her desires. She was free to be herself.
The weight of the rope slid between her breasts, its soft texture surprising her. She’d expected it to be rough against her skin, like the rope on a sailboat.
New hands worked the rope underneath her breasts, and they inadvertently brushed her nipples. Without her having sight, they felt more sensitive than normal.
Logan continued to speak to Adrian in a hushed voice, but Danielle zoned out, their words not making much sense to her and becoming simply background noise.
She swore she could feel Cole’s gaze on her. That invisible tether bound her to him stronger than any rope. Her entire body buzzed, and her limbs felt sluggish.
Hands caressed her flesh. Her shoulders. Her ribcage. Her thighs. Two, four, a dozen. She didn’t know. In her mind, they all belonged to Cole.
Rope pressed between her legs, spreading her open wide. Logan whispered something in her ear, and suddenly she was airborne, floating on her back as if lying on a cloud.
Fingers swept across her cheekbones and feathered down her neck. A warm wet tongue teased one nipple as a rougher tongue licked the other. Then two strong mouths simultaneously sucked those nipples into their heat.
Pressure built in her pussy, her clitoris throbbing. She tried to close her legs, but the rope kept them open. She couldn’t move. All she could do was lie there and take it.
“Has she ever taken a plug?” one of the men whispered.
A gasp slipped from her chest. No, she’d never had anything other than Cole’s finger in her backside. A frisson of fear passed through her at the thought of it, but since they’d discussed anal plugs last night, she trusted Cole would keep her safe.
She didn’t hear the answer, but warm fluid dripped down her crack and a finger worked it inside. There was a burning. A stretching. But it didn’t hurt.
The moan that fell from her lips sounded foreign to her ears.
Another finger rubbed circles on her clitoris, and it began to warm. To heat. Like cinnamon or mint. The more he touched, the hotter it got, until tears pricked her eyes. Not from pain, but from pleasure and from need.
Something thicker than a finger entered her behind and she knew instantly it was the plug. As he worked it in deeper, the odd sensation of being filled made her writhe and struggle against the ropes.