She drew in a shuddering breath. She’d never considered herself a voyeur—until now, witnessing intimacy that was raw, trusting, and impossible to fake.
“Hot, aren’t they?”
Startled, she turned to find a petite blonde with a short bob and side-swept bangs beside her.
“Oh, yeah,” she replied, too thick tongued with arousal to say more.
“It’s always like that with Master Dev and Cari. I’m Deanna, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Emily.”
Her gaze returned to the cross. The dom’s face was buried between his sub’s thighs. He’d released her ankle cuffs, and her legs were wound around his broad shoulders. From the sounds and her writhing, he was delivering a skilled and very thorough tongue-lashing.
“So that’s the Devil of Devil’s Pointe?”
“Yep. She’s his fiancée,” Deanna informed her. “The wedding is next month.”
No wonder they obliterated the hotness charts. They were in love.Their affection and passion woven so tightly, it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Her chest tightened. She’d never had anything close to that.
“I’ve watched the other couples. They don’t…” Emily paused, searching for the right word.
“Smolder?” Deanna offered.
“That’s it.”
“Sometimes there’s chemistry, and sometimes there isn’t,” she sighed. “Same as in the vanilla world.”
At the unmistakable sound of a woman nearing climax, Emily’s gaze snapped to the cross. Devil had risen to his feet.
“Please, sir, don’t leave me this way,” Cari pleaded.
“I’d never be so cruel,” he replied. “Unless you’re being punished. Other than that saucy tongue, you haven’t been naughty, have you, princess?”
“No, sir, I swear I haven’t. Ask the guys—check the daily reports. If I’m not with you, I’m never out of their sight.”
Judging by his movements, and the sudden laxness of his painted-on jeans, he unzipped his fly.
“Lately, the reports have praised what a good girl you’ve been. Which means you’ve earned agiantreward,” he told her suggestively.
“Yes, please,” she replied, as he moved between her thighs.
Despite the music and the crowd noise, Emily swore she heard him sink into her. Their shared moan—part sigh, part surrender—was unmistakable as his hips thrust forward.
“Your mouth is hanging open.”
Emily snapped it shut and looked to her left. Julia had come up on her other side, unnoticed.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked in a whisper.
“Fetching you.”
“For Regina?” Emily squeaked, searching the crowd for her boss.
“No. She was chewing ass in the kitchen, but she won’t stay there long, and you’re in a restricted area.” Julia turned, caught sight of the scene, andsucked in a breath. “I get the draw—holy smokes—but if the boss lady finds you here...”
“No one minds if she watches,” Deanna said. “In fact, for a lot of the club members, that’s half the fun.”
“One person minds,” Julia countered. “Mistress Regina. And sadly, we work for her.”
