“Ungh,” I groan through the gag, but nod.
“What would you care to bet?”
Rory tugs down the gag so I can spit out, “My tits.”
The others give me confused expressions. Rory lowers his brows. “Um, I am as kinky a bastard as the next man, but even I have my limits. Trophy tits aren’t one o’them.”
I stick out my tongue. “Whoever wins gets free rein over my tits for a whole week. If you want me to walk around all day flashing everyone, or clamp them, or slap them.” I wince because why am I giving them ideas?
But they all narrow their eyes in eager acceptance. “Done,” Raphael secures the deal.
“Wait! I want one more thing.” I press my lips into a smile, focusing on Jude and Vincent. “I want to watch.”
Jude gets a shine in his eye, but Vincent shifts uncomfortably, looking away.
“Vincent…would you deny our Queen?” challenges Jude.
After a few moments of silence, Vincent grunts, “Fine.”
Rory ties the gag around my head again.
I inhale as much as I can because I’ll need to hold it as much as possible to keep from climaxing. Longer exhales. Only one short, fast inhale between them.
Two minutes. Two minutes and one second if I want to win. I’ve already had three orgasms. I can do this, I tell myself. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker Jude can finally get ridof the damn arrow in my leg. They tell you the pain goes numb after some time, but it’s total bullshit.
“Whoever is closest wins the prizes. Time starts now.” Raphael sets his watch.
Rory wastes no time in turning on the vibrating setting. But he was only permitted the lowest one. My lids close, and I hold my breath, battling the tingling sensation.
I focus on the pain in my calf, the white-hot sting where the arrow juts from my flesh. I let it burn. Anything to keep my body from betraying me.
Think of puppies. Kittens. A zombie eating its own hand. Yes. Good. Gross. Distracting.
But then Rory tilts the vibrator justslightly, and the ache turns into a pulsing wave that shoots straight up my spine. My toes curl. The ropes groan softly as I strain against them, my muscles spasming in protest.
No. Nonono.
Exploding kittens game. Zombie puppies. Frog legs. Anything.
But the warmth spreads too fast. My body’s a traitor.
Ugh, fuuuuck! Rory’s going to win, isn’t he? I’m going to have to spend every day with my breasts hanging out. Oh, god! He could put them in a vice, clamp them the whole time, and turn on the vibration whenever he wants! Not to mention all the other kinky shit he might do.
Nononono, don’t think about that! It only heats my blood more.
I lose track of the seconds. I don’t even know what number we’re at now. The pain mixes with pleasure in a heady, dizzying cocktail, making me lightheaded, making my mouth water around the gag.
Jude. And his muscles. And the locket. No, I shouldn’t be thinking about Jude.
But I see him—that self-assurance on his face, watching every little tremor in my body. That time in the shower when he put my legs over his shoulders and spent a good half hour licking my pussy and eating me out.
One wink from those long eyelashes of his. One wink, and the wave crashes.
I scream behind the gag as my body jerks, back arching in the ropes. I’m done. Gone. The orgasm hits like a fucking freight train, all pleasure and no mercy. The clamps keep sending little pulses through me, my nerve endings electrified as the climax finishes.
Rory turns off the vibration.
I don’t even hear Raphael call it.
