Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(66)

His hand gently caressed her breast and heat surged over her skin, in spite of her dismay. She couldn’t even see who was watching.

She was gripping the armrests so hard her hands ached.

“Relax.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “You’ll give me what I ask of you, because that’s what a submissive does for her Dom.”

She could safeword. She knew she could safeword.

How could she totally hate this and want this? Why did letting him take control from her make her want to give him more? Make her anxious and…happy?

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered. His fingers tugged her nipples lightly, the pressure forceful enough to send an ache of need through her. He lifted his voice. “Is anyone going to Anne’s tomorrow for her barbecue?”

“Can’t,” Max said. “I’m on duty, Alastair’s on call, and Zuri won’t go without us.” Max chuckled. “She doesn’t trust Anne’s temper these days.”

Josie couldn’t believe Holt was touching her even while he participated in the conversation. Under his ruthless touch, her breasts swelled and her arousal surged.

“Ben does a good barbecue,” Nolan was saying.

Holt’s right hand stroked down her stomach beneath the blanket. Slowly, he drew her skirt up, and his fingers slid through the wet folds of her pussy. His cheek rubbed against hers. “You’re wet, Josie.” And he proved it by spreading the moisture over her throbbing clitoris.

She almost, almost lost control and moaned. Were they all looking at her?

A pinch on her breast derailed her thoughts, and the sharp pain zipped like a bolt of electricity to her pussy. He moved slightly, reached farther, and slid one finger past her folds and up inside her pussy.

She inhaled sharply.

Slowly, he slid it out, circled up and around her clit, and thrusting back in. Harder.

Her hips wiggled slightly.

His voice was low as he warned, “Don’t move, Josie, or everyone will know where my hand is.”

She froze. It was bad enough they could see him fondling her bare breasts.

“If you make any noise or move, I’ll know you want to share, and we’ll finish without the blanket.”

Her breathing stopped in her throat. No, no, no.

His fingers on her pussy never ceased the slow, ruthless stimulation. Sliding in and out of her, making circles around her aching, swelling clit even as his other hand played with her breasts.

And he continued to chat with the other Doms. The…the bastard.

The soft background of their conversation disappeared beneath the hammering of her pulse. Sweat bloomed on her skin as her excitement rose. She was at the edge of coming, so close…

“I think you can wait a while longer,” he whispered in her ear and resumed talking with the other Doms. His finger slowed, lightened. Each touch on her clit pulled her close and then he’d pause. Slide in. Out. Touch.

“Hey, Z, I heard Ghost was a Dom in Seattle,” Max called.

“He was,” Z said in his rich deep voice.

Her jerk of surprise pushed her hips against Holt’s fingers, and she was too, too close, and… An immense tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her as wave after wave of exquisite sensation poured into her veins. Don’t move, don’t move. Yet holding still made every spasm of pleasure more intense, and it went on and on until even her fingers and toes were tingling.

As the breakers receded slightly, and her breathing started to slow, she heard the men discussing the security guard who’d turned out to be a Dom. And a sadist.

And then she heard Z’s quiet voice. “Thank you for sharing, Holt. She is lovely when she comes.”

“Isn’t she though?” Holt agreed easily. “Will you need her back at the bar tonight?”

Master Z chuckled. “You may keep her.”

Despite the sweet languor of her body, Josie felt the heat of embarrassment cover her like an added blanket. Had Z truly told Holt to keep her?

She struggled to move…and heard Master Holt’s voice in her ear. “Uh, uh, little bartender. Be still.”

The stern order sapped the strength from her muscles, and she lay quiet. Between her bent knees, his palm covered her mound, as if to hold in the lingering, throbbing pleasure. His other arm held her still, his warm palm cupping her breast.

“You don’t have anything to do right now, pet, and I like holding you.” He rubbed his chin over her hair and returned to talking with the others.

Relaxing, she realized she was breathing in time with him. And she loved the feeling of being held—not allowed to move—not having to make any decisions.

After a few more minutes, he kissed her cheek and removed the blindfold and gag. “This is our last chance to have something to drink. I’d like you to get us a Mountain Dew and a root beer, please.”

Blinking, she looked around. Everyone was still there. Had seen…everything. Heat rose in her cheeks again.

“Josie?” Holt said.

“Sure.”

When his one eyebrow rose, she hastily amended, “Yes, Sir. I’d like to fetch us drinks.”

“That sounded very nice. Thank you, pet.”

Why did the approving sound in his voice soothe every worried rumple in her body?

He reached under the blanket and pulled her skirt down, undid her wrists, and helped her sit up. “Off you go, then.”