The very thought of what was coming made her vibrate with anticipation.
This, along with Nick’s presence beside her, had every nerve in her body firing.
Onstage, Jordan tossed the cloth back on the assistant’s tray and picked up the glass again. Once more, he took a sip and offered some to his lady, the liquor spilling from his lips into her waiting mouth. God, this was more intimate than if they had been fucking right there onstage.
“Don’t worry,” Nick said. “He knows what he’s doing. He won’t cut anywhere that isn’t safe.”
The scalpel flashed in Jordan’s hand. He said something, and the girl nodded, her adoring gaze never leaving his. Then, pushing the tip against a spot right below her collarbone, he made a bead of crimson appear, trickling in a thin red rivulet down the side of her creamy breast.
Her eyes drifted closed. It was hypnotic and erotic, and the girl’s needy sigh was something between pain and ecstasy.
Again and again, Jordan used her body as his private canvas, carefully using his scalpel to make tiny cut after tiny cut until her upper chest and shoulders sported myriad red trickling rivulets and she looked like a piece of living, demonic art.
The image blurred before Jennie’s eyes, superimposed by one of herself, binding Nick’s beautiful hands with—
What was she thinking?
Left side pocket square.
Nick was, without a doubt, a dom. And she was sitting here fantasizing about doing these things tohim.
Zero chance that he would let himself be tied up. And yet, the image of his wrists, crossed and bound, persisted, sending a frisson through her.
Nick squeezed her hand. “Are you OK?”
No.
Jannie nodded, shoved her thoughts away, and focused on the performance.
Electricity crackled in the air. Jordan put the scalpel back on the tray and nodded to the assistant, who quickly walked offstage with it.
Now Jordan was kissing the woman again, one hand pinching her nipple while his other hand was between her legs, kneading, stroking, and even though all Jannie could see was the rhythmic motion, the image was enough to bring her to the edge of passing out.
The girl’s cries grew louder and more desperate by the second.
That was when something vibrated under Jannie.
The seat.
Theredseat.
It was vibrating, the intensity rising with the girl’s ascent toward her inevitable orgasm.
Jannie’s eyes widened. Motion EFX?
Her mind flashed between the image in front of her and one of Nick’s bound wrists, her ears filled with the girl’s keening cries, and all around the audience, she heard moans.
Jannie sucked in air but didn’t get enough oxygen. Her head began to spin.
No, no. Too much.
Panic rose in her throat. She didn’t want to come. Not here. Not like this.
Beside her, Nick tore his gaze off the performance. He searched her face, and whatever he saw there made him frown.
He reached under his seat. Immediately, the vibrations under her stopped.
Jannie closed her eyes in relief, and Nick squeezed her hand, slightly inclining his head toward the exit.
