The Professional (The Game Maker 1) - Page 44

He picked up a multi-button remote from the table beside the settee. "You told me that you wanted to see more of Paris. Here's another slice of it." He pressed a button. The curtain began to open, revealing a wall of glass.

Behind the glass was . . . was . . .

When I realized what I was beholding, I breathed, "Oh. My. God."

Sevastyan's hand shot out to catch my champagne flute just before it hit the ground. . . .

CHAPTER 34

When my shock lessened a degree, I was able to comprehend what I was seeing beyond the room's glass wall.

Sevastyan had brought me to this private club to witness . . . an orgy.

And it was going on strong.

There must have been three dozen participants, attractive ones. They were all in a center ring, as if in a circus, with sex apparatus everywhere.

Masked men and women were strapped to X-frames, caged in pillories, or suspended from chains in the ceiling. One woman was fettered to what looked like a body-shaped massage table. Females and males were bent over crimson boudoir chairs. Strong hands gripped splayed ankles.

Once I'd recovered enough to react, my hands flew to my mask. "They can see us watching them?"

"They can't see inside," Sevastyan assured me. "They only see a mirror, unless we push a button on the remote. And, Natalie, they're fully aware they're being watched."

Then I'd just been taken to voyeur heaven. "This--is--the--tits."

"Indeed."

One naked woman was perched on a trapeze with her ass atop the bar, her feet resting on either side. The trapeze was lowered until she was mouth-level with a guy who buried his face between her legs, while a brawny man slowly took him from behind.

Not everyone was naked. Some wore leather accessories. Others wore elaborate lingerie: shimmery corsets, intricate garters, and striped hose as if from Moulin Rouge. One man's entire body was encased in some kind of vacuum-sealed black sleeve, with only an air tube and his erection protruding--the latter of which was promptly utilized by a nubile female.

I wanted to examine every little detail, every act in the ring. It was as if there were scenes from all of my most erotic dreams. I wished I had ten sets of eyes! Or that I could record this.

Every lash across upthrust breasts made my own swell against my bustier. When the trapeze woman began screaming her way to ecstasy, bucking against that man's mouth, my panties grew wet.

Without dragging my gaze away, I said, "There are other rooms like this?" I'd noticed all the walls surrounding the orgy were mirrored.

"There are six total."

"You told me you've been here before. Were you down there?"

"On occasion."

One woman was tied backward over what looked like a huge barrel. Men lined up to use her mouth, while others took turns licking her. She seemed starving for more.

Had Sevastyan been one among those men?

Just as jealousy flared, he pulled me into his lap, curling his finger under my chin so I'd face him. "And I hungered to be where I am now. With a woman in my keeping. I'd wager most of them in the ring would envy us our position."

"You'd want a single woman over all those beauties?" The closest one to us was model fine, on her hands and knees and spitted by two men--a shaft in her mouth and another between her legs. They were railing the hell out of her, to her blatant delight.

Sevastyan said, "Considering that you are the woman in question, yes."

Smooth. "Do you want us to be down there now?"

"I told you. I learned very early not to share. No one else touches what's mine." His gaze flicked over my face. "Can you handle this?"

Did he think I'd beg off? "Since they can't see in, it's like watching porn. Which I excel at. So all good here."

He dragged me against his chest. Once I'd settled comfortably on his lap, he handed my glass back to me.

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, Natal

ie. 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.

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