Derision (The Broken Bonds 7) - Page 32

My gaze lands on Chase as he issues the order. Immediately, she removes her hand, dropping it instead to my hip.

“Her mouth belongs to me,” Chase clarifies, directing his attention to the other men, as if delivering a threat. Which in turn makes my stomach churn with nerves. I suddenly realize for the first time that I’m in danger of being touched—being fucked—by them.

My safe word is right at the front of my thoughts. If I use it against them, would it count? Would Chase stop them?

I take note of the tension brewing among them before his order is accepted, then they return their gazes to their submissives and nod. I don’t understand the dynamic—I can’t process if Chase has ultimate say over the partners, their subs…or if there’s some battle of wills at stake. I can’t reason this internally as I typically do, because the feel of hands caressing and roaming steals all thoughts away.

The woman before me drops to her knees and kisses along my belly. I jerk at the intimate contact, and as she slides her hands up my thighs, I seek Chase’s gaze.

He’s more than condoning these women fondling me; he’s enjoying it.

And as one of the brunettes runs her tongue over my nipple, his arctic eyes blaze with yearning. I can only look into his gaze; my new focal point. He approves of this, desires it, because his eyes alone beckon my devotion.

Chase lifts his chin. “And you’re not to remove her anal jewel.”

Humiliation sweeps through me so fiercely, I drop my gaze, unable to continue seeking a connection with the man who declares such things with no preamble.

The air doesn’t even stir at his mention of the jeweled plug adorning my posterior; it’s only out of the norm for me—the newbie. The shy, awkward introvert. But he knows this. Whereas I believed he never noticed me for more than a passing glance, Chase has watched me. Studied me. He knows exactly what will shame me.

And this is what he ultimately desires.

The sensation of the chains biting into my wrists, their soft hands roaming, caressing, invading—I’m the perfect spectacle as I’m subjected to arousing stimulation which I’m unable to ignore—to pretend doesn’t excite me.

Then as the blonde takes me into her mouth—so different than the feel of Chase; his firm tongue, his commanding caress—I gasp. While I’m trying to ignore the brunette working her hands and mouth over my breasts, it’s impossible not to buck against the other woman kneeling behind as her slender fingers ease inside me.

“Oh, god,” I whisper, whether in need of answer or just helpless reaction, I don’t know. But I can’t stop the flood of stimuli. I can’t control my body’s response, becoming wet. Throbbing. The deep pulse building into a hot ache.

At once, all men stand and approach. I flinch at their abrupt movement, attempting to shy away, but the women hold me in place. Their nails dig into my thighs, my waist. Their groping becomes frenzied—and against my will, my body likes the chase. Being bound and forced to accept the impending orgasm.

Chase remains seated, his heated gaze intent on watching. I lock on to him, trying to envision it’s his hands on me. Only when the three men take their stance around me, directly behind their subs, my trembling becomes unbearable.

The two—Gannet and Mason—are at my right and left. It’s Wells behind me, and not being able to see him, to know what he’s about to do, is terrifying.

As their hungry gazes rake over my flesh, they begin to unbuckle their belts. Their zippers lower. Their pants drop around their ankles.

Oh, god…

I almost speak out—Red right on the tip of my tongue, but I bite down. Chase widens his eyes, encouraging me to still my racing heart.

Gannet grabs ahold of the woman kneeling in front of me, raising her ass up to him as he drives into her without warning. Her moan vibrates against me, through me, and I flinch at the intense spasm that ripples along my flesh.

The rest of them follow suit, taking their subs from behind, fucking them mercilessly.

This is not happening. This is not happening.

But it is—and I’m powerless against the rush.

I seal my eyes shut, no longer able to seek Chase. He’s here. He won’t allow anyone to hurt me. The swell of overstimulation pulls at all corners of my mind. Dragging me to some clandestine level of arousal that doesn’t care if I’m being fucked, sucked, or put on display.

All that matters is Chase—that he approves. I’m pleasing him. In knowing that, I release the threads, my body unwinding and becoming loose as pleasure sweeps through me, vicious and devastating.

I’m lost on that current, adrift, floating in the deep blue of Chase’s storm, when a rough touch cracks the safety of my bubble. My vision swims as I pry my eyes open, the room and sounds and flickering lights bleeding in. Alarm steals over me.

A callused hand clutches my throat, fingers digging into my jaw and forcing my head to turn. My wide eyes meet Mason’s—his dark irises lit with need as he thrusts into his submissive hard. Then his fingers move to my lips before he shoves them inside my mouth.

“Your mouth wants me, whore,” he seethes close to my ear. “You’re going to take what I give you.”

I try to jerk away, but in the moment his gaze drills into me, issuing a silent threat, Chase has him in a similar hold around his neck and yanks him off, Mason’s hand gone from me. His sub is only momentarily fazed before she resumes her task of nipping at my breast.

Tags: Trisha Wolfe The Broken Bonds Dark
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