Page 57 of Entwined

She should be.

“This was a bad idea.” She hisses in my ear.

“You think?”

“We need to leave.” She turns, we walk through the group of women trying to get back to the lift. Two large men step in front of us, blocking our path.

“Ah, we have two lost little birds. What shall we do?”

My head snaps up. It doesn’t sound like his voice. It must be coincidence that he referred to us as “birds.”

“My friend feels ill.” I grab Jecca’s arm tight. “She feels faint. We need to leave.”

“Perhaps, she just needs…to lay down.”A man speaks in a deep husky voice. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and dark blonde hair that’s long and curls down over the collar of his tuxedo.

Jecca gasps, quivering. He moves to take her from me, but I won’t let go. She turns her head whispering in my ear, “It’s okay. It’s Phillip Grantham the third. He’s kin of the royal family. Britain’s most eligible bachelor now that Harry is wed. I want to go Jessie. Let me go. Let me have one night to let it all go, no limits, no regrets and no one judging me for it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very.”

“I’ll wait downstairs in the car. Fuck him only once. Whatever you do—don’t kiss him on the lips.”

“Why?”

“You’ll fall in love.”

She giggles, “I hope so.”

I shake my head, releasing her arm, but warn in her ear, “Your cell phone. Guard it with your life.”

I watch him lead her away, anxious but jealous as hell at the night that’s in store for her. She’ll never be the same. I sigh, turning to survey the room. I guess I’m on my own finding Jecca’s father and extorting him on her behalf. I guess that’s what a best friend would do. My heart warms. I have a best friend. One that’s a girl. I shake my head, I never figured my first best friend would be someone like Jecca. A spoilt, wealthy—society girl. But if life’s taught me anything—it’s full of surprises.

I circle the room, keeping close to the walls, as I look for Mr. Whitestone. My clit throbs as I walk. Men bend women over chairs, pushing their dresses up, fingering them as they drag their swollen, leaking cocks across pale butt cheeks spread and waiting.

One man takes his time. Savoring his prey. He pushes the spaghetti strap of her gown down one shoulder as his mouth traces a path down her neck. He holds her tightly against him as his other hand massages her silk covered breast. She moans, with her eyes shut as his hand slides down, lifts the front of her gown and holds the fabric in his fist as his other hand delves between her legs. She cries out. I start to shake as I watch them. His hand moves in a rhythm between her thighs. Her hips gyrate, riding his hand as she unabashedly cries out her pleasure at his touch.

Tears leak from my eyes.

I miss him.

Miss this.

I’m jealous as hell at all these women, free to take their pleasures tonight. My chains have been removed. My collar’s off. But I can’t shake him. He’s still my master and my body only wants to sing for him.

I pause, noticing a man watching me as he touches someone else. I need to get out of here before something bad happens. I turn to walk back to the elevators, hoping to slip in as another load of fresh bodies get out.

A hand snakes around my waist, jerking me back against a hard body. A large palm covers my scream. I bite his hand, tasting his blood, but he doesn’t let go. I’m walked backward through a door I missed and shoved into a pitch-black room.

The door swings shut behind me.

I’ve been here before. Trapped with a dark man who wants to take things from me I’m not ready to give.

His harsh breathing fills the air as he stalks closer. I walk backward until my back hits a wall. His hands come out resting on either side of my head, trapping me. He presses thick thighs against mine lightly at first, then hard as he drives me against the wall. His length hard against me even through layers of clothing.

He grabs my hair, wrapping it in a fist. Hot lips travel down my neck. I gasp as his tongue strokes over a nipple through the thin silk gown.

I’m not wearing a bra. My breasts are high and firm and don’t need one. My nipples peak under his ministrations. I can’t fight my need. He knows exactly how to touch me. Rough but sweet. Hard and soft; all at once. I moan, moving my hips trying to communicate what I need.

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