“I’m only half drunk.”

  “Novalee,” he says, voice lowering in warning. “You need a few minutes to pull yourself together.” His attention rests on Sebastian for a moment. “Before you do something you’ll regret.”

  “Ford is waiting for me.” My haughty tone makes it clear how little I appreciate his high-handedness.

  “You’re in no condition to play Ford’s games right now.”

  “I’m fine.” I shrug off his hand and switch direction, taking comfort in the thickening crowd. Ford might not be expecting me right this second, but he is expecting something from me, and I might as well face it while I’m tipsy on my feet.

  Passing through the gauzy curtains is like entering an alternate reality, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. If the scene surprised me before, it doesn’t compare to what’s in front of me now.

  Naked bodies writhe, rock, and shudder. Implements smack sweat-soaked skin—the impacts brutal enough to echo in my ears. Sighs and pants filter through the space as brave performers reach erotic crescendos. For every participant, three people linger on the edge to watch, and Ford is in the middle of it all, sprawled on a lounger as a group of naked women crawl over him.

  Ford Stryker is every inch a king on his throne, enshrined in careless confidence, his pants undone, jacket gone, and shirt unbuttoned to expose a well-defined chest. He spots me standing by the curtain and crooks a finger, beckoning me to join him.

  Teeth sinking into my bottom lip, I stall for time, hoping to find the courage to get up there and expose myself to the hungry eyes in the room. Anxiety sends me back a few steps, right into another body. An electric zap hits my spine—a sensation that can only come from one hot-blooded inferno of a man.

  “Go on, princess.” His quiet goading teases the wayward tendrils around my ear. “Show everyone how sweet your pussy is.”

  My breath catches. “You know what he asked me to do?”

  “All of us do.”

  Of course they know what Ford’s planning. I was naïve to think his request was something he kept between him and me. Instead, it’s just another power-play move in the Brotherhood’s arsenal.

  “Watching me up there…it’ll only upset you.” Despite the haze from the champagne, the reality of what I’m about to do chokes me, and the last thing I want is to make things worse between us.

  “You don’t think I’ll get off watching you play with yourself?”

  “I think you have a jealous personality.”

  “I’m not jealous of Ford.” He leans closer, his breaths caressing my shoulder. “He doesn’t make you weak.”

  My heart skips. “No, he doesn’t.”

  His hand clamps onto my hip, fingers caressing my skin from under the edge of the lacy slit. “Not like I do.”

  “No…” I breathe. “Not like you do.”

  “Not even like Liam does.”

  “Sebastian.” His name is little more than a whispered plea. “This is hard enough already.”

  “You wanna talk about hard things?” He thrusts against my ass, showing me just how hard he is. “See what you do to me? It’s like I’m a goddamn teenager all over again.”

  “You pleasured yourself after I left, didn’t you?” My words summon a vivid picture of him in my mind—one muscular arm braced against the wall as he strokes his erect cock in a desperate fist. At the visual, a needy moan escapes me.

  Sebastian lets out a dark laugh. “Not much pleasure involved without you, princess. More like a devastating explosion. So go up there and be weak for me. Let every man here know who you belong to.”

  His gravelly voice is voodoo in my ears, causing my feet to carry me toward the depraved host of this ball. The guests seem to part for me, just like they did for Ford earlier. Armed with intoxication and faux bravery, I climb the makeshift stage, and his harem of women scatter. So does everyone else on-stage.

  Apparently, I’m the main show of the night.

  Ford reaches for me, hands hot and firm on my skin. “Make yourself comfortable,” he says, yanking me onto his lap. “You’re going to be here a while.”

  “I-I am?”

  “You think I’m gonna let you get away now?” He wraps his hands around my waist, crushing me against his body, and his scent surrounds me—a mix of pheromones, spice, and masculine male. He tilts his hips, nestling his enormous length between my ass cheeks. “I knew you’d feel good in my lap.”

  For several moments, I’m speechless, my mind spinning from too much champagne and stimulation. From too many curious eyes, despite the gauzy partition between the stage and the rest of the ball.

  To break the tension, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I’m surprised you put up a curtain.”

  “Not everyone is up for the challenge like you are.”

  “You didn’t leave me with much choice.”

  “Uh-uh. You can’t blame me for this. You’re up here because you want to be.” He drapes my legs on either side of his, spreading me wide open for the guests to gawk at.

  I try to bring my knees together, but his are in the way, keeping my bare pussy exposed. A collective murmur trickles through the crowd, and I pick up words and phrases like “wet” and “begging to be fucked.”

  “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Be a dirty girl for me.” Ignoring my protest, Ford cups my lace-covered breasts, thumbs whisking over hardened nipples, and an electric current zaps me to the core. My hips rock without instruction.

  “Such a good, dirty girl.” His satisfied growl rumbles beneath me. “I bet I can guess who’s got you wet.”

  My gaze connects with a pair of blazing blue eyes, and Ford chuckles.

  “Should’ve gone with silver,” he says.

  I’ve never regretted a decision more.

  As Sebastian’s predatory stare heats every inch of my body, I wish I could rewind time and choose silver. If I had, Ford might allow him on this platform with me, touching and tasting and driving me wild. Instead, I settle for the weight of his gaze on my skin. It zeros between my thighs, stalling there as he licks his lips, and if that’s not an invitation to take what I crave, then I don’t know what is.

  “Touch yourself,” Ford whispers, echoing Sebastian’s unspoken sentiment, his lips a warm tease on my neck. “Give our guests a show they won’t forget.”

  “How should I…?” With an uncertain gulp, I trail off. “What do you want me to do?”

  He pushes my hand between my legs. “Do whatever feels good. Rub your clit, tease yourself with a finger, or maybe you want to try a rougher technique?” His exhale shudders against my skin. “I’ve heard Sebastian likes it rough, out of control, desperate. So do I.”

  I’m. On. Fire.

  Plunging a finger into my drenched opening, I try to stifle a moan, but one breaks free anyway. The symphony of my arousal spurs me on, making my body slacken against Ford in sensory overload.

  He’s hard and warm underneath me, his hands playing with my nipples, his knees keeping mine spread so lustful eyes can watch while I play with myself. Using the palm of my hand, I massage my clit, my pace increasing with each circular motion.

  Pressure amps, blood pumps faster, making me squirm on Ford’s lap. My mouth forms Sebastian’s name, and our eyes lock. Everyone else fades away, ceasing to exist as the room narrows to only him and me.

  To his kissable bottom lip, tugged between his teeth, and my newly confident fingers pumping in and out of my pussy.

  Faster. Harder. Giving in to the intensity of pleasure. Ignoring the pinch of virtue’s pain.

  I bring my hand to my mouth long enough to suck a digit between my lips, and Sebastian’s nostrils flare, his eyes narrowing to azure slits. He’s blazing for me, hotter than I’ve ever seen him burn.

  My head thrashes from side to side as I return my hand to the center of my need for him, pushing deeper, imagining he’s the one touching me. Possessive authority transforms his scruffy face, tightening his mouth into a grim line, hardening his jaw with the need to conquer me from where he stands.

  His hands fist at his sides. He’s holding himself in check by a thread.

  And I’m reeling, my heartbeat palpitating in ecstasy’s dance, muscles tense as I hang suspended in the space between exquisite buildup and euphoric release.

  “So close,” Ford breathes, hips rocking to the same beat as mine. “So ready to come.” He grips my inner thighs. “You want it, don’t you?”

  “Uh-huh,” I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut. As I approach the pinnacle, I keep the image of Sebastian in my mind.

  That’s when Ford yanks my hand away, locking my wrist in the circle of his forceful grip.

  “What are you doing?” I gasp.

  “Stopping you. I’m not ready for you to come yet.”

  5

  Delirium. It’s the only word that describes my feverish state of mind. By the time I open my eyes again, the room is somehow darker, overcome with the type of disquiet that would amplify the drop of a pin if it weren’t for the techno music coming through the speakers.

  Not a single person moves, and that’s when it dawns on me the guests have multiplied twofold…and every member of the Brotherhood stands front and center, watching me touch myself.

  Watching me come undone for Sebastian.

  I feel my cheeks go hot. This isn’t me. I’m not the type of girl to lie on a man’s lap in public, legs spread wide as a whiny voice pleads for climax. Except this is me. I am begging Ford to let me come, and that’s my pussy on display for everyone to see.

  My throbbing, wet pussy.

  With a pathetic whimper, I fight Ford’s restraining grip to no avail. “Let me finish.”

  His hold on me tightens. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I know your cunt’s begging to come, but you can wait a little longer.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I’ve got a gift for you.”

  “What?” Alarm takes hold of my vocal cords. “What are you talking about?”

  “Telling you would spoil the fun, and I think you’ve figured out how much I enjoy a good time.”

  “You enjoy tricking me, Mr. Stryker.”

  “How have I tricked you?”

  “With the masks, with my participation in your shenanigans, and now with this surprise gift.”

  “No tricks, my queen. I’ve given you a choice all along. This time is no different. Do you want to find out what my gift is?”

  “What if I say no?”

  “Then you go back to pleasuring yourself while Sebastian eye-fucks you from across the room.” Ford leans close, his mouth an inch from my ear, and I sense the upward curve of those lips. “Or you take a chance and discover what’s behind door number two.”

  “How can I decide when you won’t even give me a hint?”

  “Same way you chose your mask.”

  My first instinct is to say no, but at the beginning of the evening, when he said he’d choose silver if it were up to him, my spiteful gut-reaction led me astray. This night could have gone much differently if I’d taken his advice. I settle my attention on Sebastian again, my heart pumping overtime in cautious hope.

  Will Ford give him permission to touch me?

  “Okay,” I say with a hard swallow. “I accept your gift.”

  Ford turns my head to face him. “Choose one of my brothers to join us. It can be anyone as long as his mask matches yours.”

  My eyes widen. “You said no tricks.”

  “How did I trick you?”

  “You implied you’d let Sebastian join us.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Yes, you did, and if I’d known, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”

  Ford grins. “It’s too late to change your mind. Decide, or I’ll decide for you.”

  “How is this a gift?” I glare at him, tempted to smack that black and silver mask off his mischievous face.

  “Choose and find out.”

  My gaze clashes with Sebastian’s before swerving to Liam’s eager expression.

  Silver and black.

  Only one match.

  And not the one I want.

  No, no, no. This isn’t happening.

  I take in the rest of the Brotherhood, tallying up the members donning black masks. In addition to the chancellor, Pax, Miles, Landon, and Vance are my options. Liam and Landon are out of the question for two very different reasons, which leaves…

  The kinky doctor and two of the monsters I fear the most. Ford’s got me backed into a corner, and he knows it. So much for freedom and fun. He’s forcing me into another decision, another situation, another impossible choice. Is this how the entire month will progress—with him forcing me into one impossible decision after the next?

  “Do you need help deciding?”

  I shake my head. At best, his illusion of choice is a manipulation. At worst, it’s a carefully constructed master plan.

  Because there’s only one option, and it’s Vance Morgan—the only man other than Sebastian and Liam I can stand the thought of touching me. He’s a doctor, and he’s examined me before, shown me kindness when I needed it. During his month, he even put his mouth on me.

  Besides, the man is an exhibitionist.

  “Vance,” I say, my vocal cords constricting.

  The doctor’s steel-gray eyes connect with mine, seeming to soften in the dim light, telling me he understands why he’s my choice.

  Why he’s the only choice.

  As much as Sebastian urged me to play Ford’s game, I know choosing Liam to finish what I started is out of the question.

  Ford gestures at the doctor, and as Vance climbs onto the platform, the continuous techno beat intensifies. Or maybe it’s my heartbeat pulsing too loudly in my ears, amping up with nerves and anticipation.

  Vance removes his jacket, ties back his blond hair, and crawls onto the end of the lounger between Ford’s feet. His lustful gaze settles on the core of my sex.

  “So beautiful.” A satisfied grin takes hold of his lips. “So wet. Do you want me to lick your pussy?”

  I didn’t expect my core to clench at his words, but something about his question sparks me back to life—as if Ford never stopped me from reaching the peak. I fear one stroke of Vance’s tongue will be enough to send me over the edge.

  “Novalee?” Vance gently prods. “Do you want me to make you come?”

  Desire shudders down my legs, and all I can do is nod like the aroused fool I am, lips parting as my breaths hasten and shallow.

  “Tell him,” Ford growls. “I want to hear you say the words.”

  “Make me come.” It’s a breathless capitulation, and my thighs tense, bracing for the impact of Vance’s mouth on me.

  God help me, but in this moment, I crave an orgasm more than anything, and that gives me pause, because this feeling—this out-of-control need sizzling in my blood—is much too familiar. It’s the sort of intoxication that’s levels beyond what a little over-indulgence in bubbly can do.

  “You drugged the champagne, didn’t you?” I command the doctor’s gaze, my accusation directed at him because he’s the only one with the means to cause hyper arousal like this.

  His smug expression confirms what I already know. “It’s not as strong as the elixir you took during the month of Cancer. Just enough to allow the guests to lower their guards and enjoy the evening.”

  “So you’re saying it won’t inhibit me this time?”

  “Quite the opposite, love.” Vance traces a light circle around my wet opening, his fingertip spreading my arousal. “It makes you ready.”

  “And willing,” I accuse.

  A secret smile plays on his mouth as he inches that digit inside of me. “There’s that hymen,” he says. “So sweet and innocent.”

  “Innocence is more than a barrier of skin, Dr. Morgan.”

  “You’re right. Innocent doesn’t describe this wet pussy.” He adds another finger, stretching, exploring, making me grit my teeth from the combination of blissful pressure and quiet discomfort. His fingers are bigger than mine, more experienced. More aggressive.

  I huff out a breath. “I want your mouth on me.” The instant the demand falls from my lips, guilt tries to break through the sexual haze. My attention returns to Sebastian…except the spot where he stood is empty. Liam is gone, too.

  They left.

  My gut revolts. Tears of mortification sting the backs of my eyeballs. But my body is trapped in another reality as Vance’s technique curls my toes. He lowers his head between my thighs, and awareness of anything besides his tongue sliding up my slit flees as quickly as Liam and Sebastian did.

  “How does it feel?” Ford spreads me even wider, his knees keeping mine open for Vance’s slow and deliberate tongue strokes.

  “Feels…oh God…” Trailing off on a guttural moan, I arch my spine, body fighting Ford’s grip, but he’s rendered me helpless by pinning me against his hard muscles.

  “Sweet Jesus,” he says, letting go of my wrists to yank down the stretchy lace of my bodice. He palms my breasts, weighing them in his hands as he rolls my nipples between thumb and forefinger. “Hold on to his head. Show him how you want him to eat that sweet cunt.”

  I don’t know what’s come over me, but I clutch Vance’s head as if I’ll never let go, my pelvis arching into his mouth, riding his tongue and the fingers buried inside me.

  Ford pinches my nipples hard. “Tell me how it feels. Describe it, Novalee.”

  “So good,” I moan, chest heaving into Ford’s hands. Between my splayed thighs, I watch as Vance shakes his head back and forth. “So wet…and hot. Not t-too hard or…soft. It’s…God…”

  “Enough teasing,” Ford rasps. “Tell him to fuck your cunt with his tongue.”

  My head’s spinning, and a thunderous roar fills my ears. Or maybe that’s just me, letting out a series of moans, because every inch of skin tingles, shivers, ignites. I can hardly catch my breath.

  “Tell him, my queen.”

 

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