The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood Book 3) by Nikki Sloane (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

up over her taut stomach, passing across the pretty patterns of ink. The girl’s breathing instantly went ragged, and although she was immobilized by the sealed latex around her, her chest heaved.

Jesus, it was fucking sexy.

Mistress Theia shifted over her, putting one knee down between her sub’s parted legs, so she could touch more places. Her hands caressed, gliding in slow, luxurious strokes, working up and down the girl’s body. It looked like she varied the pressure she put down too. As she passed over the girl’s breasts the first time, it was featherlight, but her stroke downward had more drag.

I didn’t know if it was solely meant to prime the girl, or the audience too, because anticipation coiled low in my belly as the black hands inched down over the blonde’s waist. My gaze tracked them all the way until her fingers slid between the girl’s thighs and began to massage.

The moan she issued flickered through my body like a lick of heat.

And it was at this moment, I glanced up and discovered a pair of eyes watching me from across the circle. Breath halted in my lungs. The gorgeous man in the gray suit—Clay’s friend—hadn’t left after all. He was here for the show, but while everyone else was watching Mistress Theia play, this guy was watching me.

SEVEN

The man in the gray suit stared at me, his deep-set eyes brimming with curiosity. Was he wondering who I was? How I knew Clay? Or maybe it was simpler, and he was questioning why I was gawking at him.

I averted my gaze back to the scene playing out on the floor.

Mistress Theia had one hand resting on top of the girl’s pelvis, and her thumb dipped down, rubbing circles against the girl’s clit, while her other hand wandered from breast to breast. A longer, louder moan drifted from the girl and swept through the room, making the woman in the seat next to me ball a hand into a fist.

I understood. Watching the scene was turning me on, too. It wasn’t just the sexual stuff, either. It was the power. Mistress Theia chuckled wickedly when the girl tried to writhe inside her prison and the latex wouldn’t allow it.

Faster and faster that sinful thumb moved, and even though the girl couldn’t escape, Mistress Theia leaned over and set her forearm across the girl’s shoulders to pin her in place.

She cooed softly to her sub. “Such a good pet. Are you going to come with all these people watching?”

The girl’s moan was desperate with need, but before she could answer, Mistress Theia clamped her hand over the girl’s mouth. The words came out muffled beneath her black plastic glove.

Mistress Theia’s smile was evil. “I can’t hear you,” she whispered.

Lust snaked through me, tightening every muscle in my body. It was ridiculous, but I felt like I had to sit absolutely still, otherwise everyone would know how uncomfortably turned on I was. Making it worse on myself, I risked a glance across the way to the stranger in the gray suit.

Fuck, he was still looking at me, and this time he had one eyebrow arched and the corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy smile, which told me it didn’t matter if I moved or not. This guy somehow saw all my desire, right into the heart of me, and maybe even down to the marks Clay had put on my ass.

As if to remind me of his presence, cool fingertips grazed across my skin, making me flinch. Then Clay’s hand was there, cupping my shoulder as he stood behind me. Maybe he was just resting it there casually. But like the other times he’d done it at this club, his touch felt possessive. Had he noticed the way his friend was looking at me, and wanted to assert ownership?

Everything fed into me, building like a pressure valve. The way the stranger’s unabashed lust for me dripped off his face. Clay’s subtle domination as his fingers encased my shoulder, keeping me in place. It made me shudder with satisfaction.

On the floor, whimpers of pleasure escaped through Mistress Theia’s fingers, forcing my attention back to her. As she slowly dragged her hand away from the girl’s panting mouth, she also withdrew her hand from between the girl’s legs. That earned her a cry of desperation, but Mistress Theia rose onto her knees and gave her sub a look of disapproval. It didn’t matter that the blindfolded girl couldn’t see it.

“Shh,” she ordered.

The girl squirmed as much as she could while sandwiched between the sheets of plastic.

Mistress Theia lifted her attention to one of the men seated nearby and held out an expectant hand. Had they discussed it before the show began? The guy reached into a bag near his feet, pulled out a cordless wand vibrator, and passed it to the waiting mistress.

Her thumb pressed the button on the handle, and just the dull hum caused the blonde to whine with need. She knew what was coming and was eager for the pleasure the vibrator would give her.

The head of the vibrator was ghosted over the girl’s nipple, and although she couldn’t see her domme’s smile, surely she could hear it in her voice. “Hmm. Do you want this?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Where? On your aching, little clit?”

The girl swallowed so hard it was audible. “Yes, please.”

“All right.” She moved the wand down, slipping it between the girl’s spread legs, and stroked the head once over her clit before lifting the vibrator away. “How was that?”

The girl’s gasp began in pleasure and ended in frustration. She’d only been given a teasing hint and wanted much more. Once again, she tried to squirm, but the only thing it did was make the flexible frame of the bed around her bend slightly.

“Mistress, please.”

Mistress Theia giggled in delight, and the sexy sound shot right through me. It was stunning how much I liked hearing her satisfied, like secondhand pleasure.

This time when the vibrator was pressed between the