Page 45 of The Devil's Spawn

The sweet aroma of cigars drifted through the space that could only be described as elaborate…or decadently sensual from the candlelight that washed the room in a soft glow. This was not a basement, but a huge circle of a room, and Gage and I stood at the edge. Directly in the center sat a group of people, unsurprisingly in a circle. The men relaxed in chairs, their formal attire in various stages of undress as they talked, drank, and smoked. The five women I’d met earlier in the evening kneeled at their feet, sans their masks.

Blondie was completely naked, and her husband had gagged her mouth. Tears lingered on her long lashes, and I wondered what she’d done to earn the punishment of silence. To their left, Mr. Davenport puffed on a cigar, his legs spread to accommodate his wife’s bobbing head. He helped her along, his fingers sifting through her sleek hair. He downright petted her as she sucked him with lazy strokes of her slurping mouth.

The other three women kneeled like Blondie, only none of them were entirely naked. The girl who’d worn a white gown earlier now sported thigh-highs and nothing else. Pixie Girl was trussed up in shibari that concealed her private areas in the intricate design. The rope wound around her breasts, torso, and limbs in gorgeous weaving. She was bound to the spot, unable to rise to her feet with the way her arms and had been tied behind her, wrists connected to ankles.

The fifth woman wore only nipple clamps, and I resisted the urge to cover my breasts at the sight. Clenching the chain between her teeth, she tensed her jaw as she struggled to pull on the clamps. I watched her in morbid curiosity, wondering if she wanted the extra pain that pulling on that chain caused, or if she was yanking on it because the alternative would be worse. What would happen if she let it slip from her mouth?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

This place set me on edge, and not because it was home to displays of painful implements or torture stockades. Rather, the understated deviance in the room unsettled me to the bone.

Gage tugged on my hand, and as I followed him to the circle, I couldn’t take my eyes off the two beds situated opposite each other across the room, with their canopies draped in gossamer gold. Those beds weren’t made for privacy; they’d been set up as a stage for fucking, sitting high atop platforms that necessitated a five stair climb just to reach them. Love seats and chairs surrounded each platform, inviting the remaining couples to watch…or join in on the fun.

My stomach wanted to take a dive at that disturbing realization, but all I had to do was remind myself of Gage’s possessiveness, and the fact that he’d promised no one but him would touch me.

“Welcome to the circle,” the men chorused in sync as if they’d rehearsed that greeting.

Mr. Davenport, regardless of having his wife’s mouth wrapped around his cock, leaned forward slightly. “The floor is yours,” he told Gage.

“Thank you.” Gage came to a stop and gently pushed on my shoulders, telling me without words to kneel.

My body obeyed, practically on auto-pilot, and the position put me at eye level with his hard-on. God, how I wanted to unzip him and take a page from Virginia Davenport’s book. The woman’s escalating moans as she feasted on her husband’s cock did funny things to my insides.

“I need to go over one important ground rule,” Gage said, his voice echoing through the room for all to hear. He grabbed my hair as if to ready me for a good mouth-fucking. “No one touches what’s mine.”

“Understood,” someone said.

With a nod, Gage let me go. “It’s time to disrobe,” he said as my hair slid through his fingers.

I trudged to the center, watching as Gage settled into the only available seat in the circle, and slowly brought my hands to the front of the peignoir. The sheer fabric grazed my nipples, making my cheeks flush with awareness, and as I opened the material I imagined his mouth nipping at my breasts. I nearly moaned at the thought as the garment slipped from my shoulders and drifted to the hardwood under my bare feet.

“Good girl. Now turn around so everyone can see what’s mine.”

I made a slow circle, taking in the features of the men more closely than before. And while their eyes were on my erect nipples, I cataloged each couple. Blondie’s husband was on the husky side, his shirt unbuttoned and pants undone. Pixie’s man was as tall as Gage. His red hair was his most arresting feature; it was on the longer side, unruly and entirely sexy. The remaining men had classic dark good looks, but I found nothing interesting or special about them.

“Kayla?”

“Yes, Master?” I said, whirling back to Gage.

“Crawl to me.”

And here came the real test. As soon as I got down on all fours, everyone would see how wet I was between my thighs. I wasn’t sure why, but I found revealing my arousal more distressing than stripping in front of these people. I had no authority over the nakedness of my body, but my drenched pussy…I wished to be able to control that more than anything.

As I made my way across the floor to where Gage waited, I sensed five pairs of eyes on my ass—possibly even more if the women watched as well. He pulled the rope from his pocket and looped it through the discreet ring in my infinity collar, effectively leashing me with the rope I’d worn on my body all evening.

“Unzip me,” he commanded.

That’s when I hesitated, and not because I fretted over what he planned to do with me, but hell…I didn’t want those women ogling my husband’s cock. Fierce possessiveness rose in me, pumping blood through my system in pulsing bursts.

How could he stand those men’s eyes on me? Especially with how jealous and possessive he was?

“Do I need to spank you?”

“No, Master,” I said, reaching for his pants and freeing the button. As I pulled down his zipper, it dawned on me why Gage wasn’t bothered by the prying eyes of other men. He was in control here, and they could look until their eyes fell out of their heads, but they couldn’t touch.

The same could be said for the women. Mine, I mentally chanted as I parted his pants and revealed his cock, beaming with pride that I could call it mine. No other woman would come near it again. They’d have to get past my flying fist first. I balled my hands, darting my tongue over my lips to wet them as I gawked at my husband’s impressive erection.

“Do you want me in your mouth?” He lifted his head, a sparkle in his gaze. “Davenport’s slave seems to be enjoying the task.”

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