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

“Why don’t you take me home,” I said provocatively, “so you can fuck me?”

“I don’t have to take you home to fuck you, Lilith.” His gaze rose oh-so-slowly to meet mine. “We’ll go upstairs.”

Excitement fluttered inside me, then halted. Wait a minute. Hadn’t he said he didn’t fuck in front of other people? Everything was open on the second floor. “Are there private rooms up there?”

He was already up, out of his seat. “No.”

There was no explanation as he moved toward the doorway. It was clear I was supposed to follow. Was it possible his mysteriousness was intentional? He knew I was a curious person, and maybe he was playing that up, using my desire for answers to guide and control me.

The stairs whined as we ascended them, but this time when we entered the main lounge, it wasn’t empty. People mingled in small groups, and some sat together on one side of the sectional that dominated the room.

Clay led us to the empty side of the couch and sat down, gesturing for me to sit on the ottoman directly across from him. As I took my seat on the leather, I sensed that the room was watching us.

“I feel like I’m,” I said quietly, “on display sitting here.”

He angled his head, intrigued. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Can you blame them for looking?” His eyes were magnetic. “You’re the hottest girl in the club tonight. Maybe the hottest girl to ever come here.”

I sucked in a breath, which tightened my corset around me. My breasts pushed against the boning, and the sensation was enjoyable. But I gave him a dubious look. “Hotter than Mistress Theia?”

My question pleased him. “She’s hot,” he agreed, “but she’s a domme.” His gaze skated down my body like he was appreciating fine art. “For someone like me? You’re far more attractive.”

“Because I’m submissive.”

“Yes, you sure seem to be.” There was an electric current running between us, and the voltage increased when he sat forward and used a finger to nudge me to uncross my legs. “Did you like it earlier when I told you what to do?”

My knees were now side-by-side, but I kept my thighs pressed tightly together beneath my skirt. “Yes.”

“Are you turned on?” There was music playing in the room, along with conversations and laughter, but his voice was all I could hear. “Is your pussy wet?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

He sat back, relaxing in his seat, and casually draped an arm across the back of the couch. “Show me.”

Thoughts vaporized in my brain for a moment. I tore my gaze away from him, checking to see if anyone had heard his command. Would I care if they had? As I scanned the room, no one appeared all that interested in us. The two couples on the opposite side of the couch had finished their conversation, because both women were slumped down in the cushions, their legs hooked over their husbands’ shoulders. Or maybe they’d swapped partners, and the guys were going down on each other’s wives.

There was a sharp bite of pain on the top of my thigh, and I yelped with surprise, my gaze flying back to Clay. A red mark bloomed on my skin.

“Did you just pinch me?”

“We’ll have to work on your focus.” His tone was straightforward. “I said I want to see your pussy.”

I exhaled loudly. He looked so stern and serious that more heat poured into my body. I was going to liquify under his watchful stare, and I was sure I’d love every minute of it.

So, I wasn’t nervous when I leaned back on one arm, spread my knees, and hooked my fingers in the crotch of my thong, pulling it to the side. He’d seen plenty of me this afternoon, but this was more thrilling. I wasn’t just bare to him—anyone could see.

I let Clay get his fill of looking before I spoke. It was supposed to be teasing, but my voice came out hushed. “Happy?”

His gaze flicked to mine, and power flared in his eyes. He was happy. Beyond pleased with how I’d followed his directions. His hand on the back of the couch curled into a loose fist, like he wanted to touch me but then thought better of it.

I let go of my panties and closed my legs, sitting up straight. “Are you going to fuck me here in this room when we’re not alone?”

His aversion to the idea lasted only a blink of an eye, but it was unmistakable. Which didn’t make a lick of sense. Why’d he bring me here? His shields went up, hiding whatever thoughts were going through his head. “Do you want that?” he asked. “To be fucked while everyone watches?”

I had an immediate answer of yes but didn’t want to blurt it out until I gave it real thought. In my peripheral vision, I could see the woman in the corner of the room, crouching in front of a man who had his pants down around his ankles and his dick in her mouth. They didn’t care I was watching them, and neither did the couples behind me. The men were still on their knees, heads moving between the women’s thighs, but now the women had their tops off and their lips locked together.

There was a fog of lust in this room, and it seemed everyone was susceptible to it, including me. Everyone, that was, except for him. Clay’s eyes were focused and clear and promised to give me whatever I wanted.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I want them to watch.”

His smile was hesitant but genuine. “Okay.”

Blood rushed hotly through my veins, bubbling with anticipation. I nearly burst when he stood up, expecting him to push me down onto my back on the oversized ottoman but . . . he didn’t. His attention swung toward the hallway. “Will you be all right on your own for a minute? I need to use the restroom.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to get hold of myself. “Uh, sure.”

He nodded and strode to