“Who does?”
“Theo’s in charge of that side of the operation.”
I rushed away from him, searching for Theo in the crowd, my face blanching and my heart racing—feeling mortified that it was Godman’s senior campaign manager controlling the device. I’d never be able to face him again.
Damien had gone too far.
Theo Tamer stood across the lawn, looking dashing in a slate gray suit. He, too, was engrossed in conversation with Damien’s father, no less—a Presidential candidate who was surrounded by secret service officers.
One of them gestured that I wasn’t to approach.
Pivoting away, I hurried through the crowd with my heels clicking on stone, entering the house and pushing past the other guests who were between me and the restroom. I’d be just as enamored as them with the historic elements of the place if my labia wasn’t about to explode.
I made it to the restroom and shoved the door open.
But as I turned to lock it, the door swung forward and Damien stepped inside with me.
“No.” I shoved at his chest. “Get out.”
He turned, locking the door, and then pushed me backwards until my back hit the chintzy wallpaper. Reaching for my wrists, he dragged them above my head and held them there as he boxed me in, watching me intensely.
“I have to take them out,” I pleaded.
“They are to stay in for the duration of this event. Those were my orders.”
“You don’t understand.”
I felt myself rising into the stratosphere as his erection pressed against my belly through his pants, causing raw, exquisite sensations to surge through me.
I gasped, my body squirming as his firmness rubbed against my lower stomach making the torture worse. It was impossible to remain still.
My wrists twisted in his grip as I writhed against his firm chest, his all-seeing stare locked on me. The butt plug and balls inside me worked in unison, setting off each other, rendering me a throbbing mess of need as I rode out this euphoria against Damien’s firm body.
“Good girl,” he soothed.
I licked my lips to ease the dryness. “It’s too much.”
“You’re doing well.”
Breathless and boneless, I shimmered through an orgasm, small sobs escaping at the unfairness of this delectable thrumming. My legs went weak, my body feeling limp. He was the only reason I was still standing.
“Fuck you,” I said softly.
He dragged me in for a kiss.
“Theo?” I asked, turning my head away. “He controls this?”
“He has a right, now that he knows what you taste like.”
The dark truth that they were both playing with me snatched the remaining air from my lungs. My deep-throated groaning broke through the quiet, my breasts swelling and clit panging for contact against something. That something had to be Damien’s groin as I ground against him, out of control, chasing after these dangerous compulsions…these multiple orgasms savaging my ability to speak. All the while he held me tight, his focus never leaving, watching me intently as these sensations continued to wreck me.
Finally, the frenetic buzzing ceased and I was able to breathe again, able to get my bearings and come down from the exhilaration.
“Why?” I managed one word.
Damien pushed off from me and stepped back. “When you defy me, like you did last night—” His hand reached out to cup my face. “I punish you.”
Too exhausted to fight back, I rested my face in his hand as my breathing returned to normal.