I put my hands gently on Rowan’s shoulders, using my touch to give her some reassurance, and I stared at the audience in front of us, daring them to look away from the beautiful woman in front of them.
Rowan was here and she was safe, and she was mine. She’d chosen me and here she was, giving me this fantasy. My fantasy.
People quietened and the curtains were pulled across the doorway.
All eyes were on us. On the woman standing in front of me, because while this might be my fantasy, this was about her. About how beautiful, sensual and passionate she was, and how everyone needed to know and to see that. To want her. And to understand that only I was allowed to touch her. No one else. Just me. I was her choice.
The silence stretched and I let it, Rowan’s breathing getting faster and faster. Then just when it was at screaming point, I gripped the hem of her dress and began to ease it up. I could feel the anticipation in the room beginning to build so I went slowly, bending my head as I did so, nuzzling at the scented warmth of her neck and whispering in her ear, “Lift your arms for me, beauty.”
She hesitated only a moment, but then slowly, she lifted them, allowing me to draw the fabric up and over her head, before letting it fall to the floor.
A ripple of admiring sound went around the room, and it didn’t surprise me. Rowan was beautiful. Then again, beauty alone wasn’t enough for the jaded palates sitting watching us, they needed more just like I did.
Luckily, more was standing right in front of me.
I reached for the clasp of her bra and undid it, and as her hands rose instinctively to cover her breasts, I slid the straps down her arms and put my hands over hers. Her fingers were still cold, so I kissed the side of her neck, nuzzling her then nipping her gently, where she was sensitive. “You’re beautiful,” I murmured. “Let them see you. Let them want you. They can’t touch you, remember. They can only dream of touching you. I’m the only one who gets to do that.”
She let out a hitched breath and the resistance went out of her, and as it did, I pulled her hands away, letting her bra fall to the floor. Another appreciative murmur ran around the room, but this time I didn’t give them pause. I slid my hands into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down her lovely thighs. Then I came down into a crouch behind her, pulling them all the way down, and getting her to step out of them. She’d put a hand coyly in front of her pussy, so as I rose to my feet again, I reach to grab first one wrist then the other, pulling her arms behind her and holding her crossed wrists in the small of her back.
“You’re mine,” I murmured in her ear. “So let them look. Let them admire what they want but can never have.”
She stood there naked, trembling just a little, her lashes lowered. I kept her wrists behind her and used my free hand to lift her chin, so she was staring out at the crowd. “Look at them, beauty. You’re reducing them to nothing more than desire,” I whispered. “All these rich fucks in their chairs. You can be vulnerable with them and they can’t do a thing about it, because they can never touch you. They can never have you. And your desire will make them your slaves.”
And just like that her back straightened, her jaw firming in my hand. Goosebumps rose over her bare skin, but there were no more shakes.
I released her hands and gripped her hips, pulled her back as I sat down on the couch with her in my lap.
“Time to make them kneel before you,” I said.
Then adjusting her legs, I hooked her knees around the outside of my own and I spread them, taking her legs wide with them.
29
Rowan
I was sitting naked in Atlas’s lap, legs spread wide, the audience all watching avidly. Chills chased over my skin, yet at the same time I was hot, my skin tight.
Part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this and had stood aside, watching horrified as Atlas had led me to the dais and undressed me in front of all these people. And I had to admit that as they’d all filed in, I’d had a momentary flicker of second thoughts.
But the look on Atlas’s face when he’d thought I was going to back out had put paid to those doubts. I’d still been on a high from my triumph with Charlotte and I’d decided I’d tell Atlas as soon as he’d arrived, because I knew he’d be furious with me for leaving the loft without telling him.
I was right. He was furious. But I’d seen the fear underneath his fury, fear for me and the baby, and the strangest need had crept through me. To soothe him, to comfort him the way he comforted me when I got emotional, to make him feel better.
So of course I hadn’t refused when he’d told me why he needed this. How he needed to be chosen and not just because of a contract. He needed me to choose him willingly. I wanted to tell him that while the contract might have drawn us together, he had always been my choice. Even before he’d touched me, he’d been my choice.
But Atlas had always been a man of action, of deeds instead of words, and so I would soothe him, ease him, by making the choice he so desperately wanted me to make. I would choose him.
Maybe it was wrong to be sitting like this, naked and spread out for a crowd to see. But if it was, it was also thrilling and as Atlas had been saying with all those whispered reassurances, almost…powerful.
He was right. People could see me, but they couldn’t touch me. I could do anything in front of them and no one would say a word.
I could see them all in front of me now, staring at my bared sex. Their expressions were rapt, avid, and seeing them, any inhibitions I had vanished. What Atlas had said about them being my slaves was true, that’s what they were, and instead of being vulnerable, I felt strong.
I felt in control.
I leaned back in his strong arms as he slid a hand between my thighs, his fingertips aiming unerringly for my clit and finding it. I gasped, the sound loud in the room, the tense energy of the crowd watching adding to the tension building in me.
Pleasure hit and I gasped again as he eased one finger inside me. There were murmurs and hisses from the crowd, but gradually I stopped being so conscious of them, too lost in what he was doing to me. The heat of his body and his scent. His touch. I moved my hips with his hand, wanting more, feeling the hard press of his cock beneath my ass. Oh yes, he was getting off on this. He was getting off on me and I wanted him to.