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But she wasn’t that far gone. No. She wouldn’t ask for it.
Jordan brought his wet fingers up to her swollen lips. “Clean them, babygirl.”
Reluctantly, she opened her lips again, but he was gentle as he slid his fingers into her mouth. The tangy flavor of her own arousal coated her tongue as she sucked and swirled her tongue around his fingers, cleaning them off. What she did now was much closer to what she had expected when he’d put her on her knees.
Her thighs pressed together as she cleaned his fingers, her body still thrumming with the need he’d aroused. But Trish refused to ask him to finish her, refused to try to touch herself there. She didn’t want this, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Because she was sure that was what he intended.
“Good girl,” he said, finally pulling his fingers away with one last caress over her sore lips.
Then, taking her hand in his, his grip slightly damp from her ministrations, Jordan led her from the room.
4
The walk back to the main room was strange. The short skirt she wore fluttered around her legs, and Trish was the only woman she saw wearing a skirt. There were plenty of people in the hallways, both men and women, but most of them wore uniforms and the women who didn’t still wore pants. It made her feel horribly exposed to be the only one in the area whose legs were showing.
When she finally spotted another woman in a skirt, far off down the hall to the right at one of the intersections Jordan took her through, Trish’s curiosity rose and she slowed her pace for a second. As soon as her steps faltered, Jordan dragged her forward and swept her up into his arms. She curled in on herself, worried about his reaction, but he didn’t do or say anything, he just carried her the rest of the way.
This gave her more of an opportunity to look around. The people passing her and Jordan all acknowledged him, and more than half of them gave her at least a quick smile or a nod. She wasn’t sure how to respond, so she ended up turning her head toward his chest and letting her hair fall like a curtain in front of her face so she wouldn’t accidentally meet anyone’s eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from peeking. Hiding her face didn’t stopthe smiles, although they weren’t meeting her eyes anymore, just smiling in her general direction. Some seemed amused by her presence, others looked fairly sympathetic.
Would their sympathy be enough to help her escape this place?
The smell of food coming from the main room made her stomach rumble, and she put her hand over it, strangely embarrassed. Not that anyone seemed to notice.
Jordan led her into the room and straight up to the main dais where the Wolf sat with several other men and women. There was one seat open on the Wolf’s right-hand side. Trish’s muscles stiffened up as she approached with Jordan, and the Wolf’s unnerving gaze swiveled to her. Trish found herself practically hugging Jordan’s side as if he were the safer of the two, and trying to hide behind his arm.
When he glanced down at her, he didn’t look displeased by her position, either.
Dread filled her as Jordan went to the empty chair and pulled her onto his lap, facing the table. Trish huddled against him, barely daring to breathe. To her complete consternation, the Wolf looked her over before giving her a brief smile and turning away. Jordan ignored the Wolf’s inspection and tucked Trish against him before reaching out to take a drink from the glass at his place.
“So, Jordan, finally got your girl?” the woman sitting beside them asked, grinning.
It wasn’t as easy to tell with everyone sitting down, but she seemed the smallest in stature compared to literally everyone else. She had lightly tanned skin, dark hair and eyes, and a kind of controlled confidence Trish envied. Despite her size, she didn’t seem like the kind of woman anyone would want to mess with.
“This is Trish. Trish, Zadia,” Jordan said calmly.
Hearing him say her name made Trish shiver all over again. She hadn’t been aware he knew it, considering this was the first time he’d actually said it.
“Nice to meet you, Trish,” Zadia said, like this was a completely normal introduction.
Since Trish couldn’t say the same and she didn’t want to sound like a complete idiot she just murmured a soft, “Hello.”
Fortunately, neither of them seemed to require much from Trish; they immediately fell into a discussion about some mission that was in progress. Trish listened to their conversation with half an ear while, on her other side, the Wolf talked to some other man. Both conversations sounded important and yet they were all speaking so vaguely she didn’t understand what she heard.
Food arrived about five minutes after they’d sat down, and Jordan shifted Trish on his lap so she faced Zadia, allowing him to hand-feed her. Trish gripped the fabric of her skirt. She hated taking the small bites of food from his fingers and the way he occasionally pushed the tips of his fingers into her mouth or traced her swollen lips. She hated the way Zadia watched them with amusement. Not mocking amusement, but the amusement of someone who thinks what they’re witnessing is cute or sweet but out of character. It made Trish want to kick and scream and cry, but she was too terrified to do any of that.
She was sharply aware of the Wolf sitting directly behind her, of Jordan’s strong arm around her waist, his muscled thighs under her slightly sore bottom. Whenever she shifted, she could feel the plug in her little hole, reminding her of the mastery over her body he’d already demonstrated.
They’d been there about twenty minutes while Trish shifted uncomfortably, forced herself to eat from Jordan’s fingers and drink when he lifted the cup, and listened to as much conversation as she could.
Everyone at the table was a leader. Beneath the Wolf, to be sure, but these were his trusted lieutenants; his go-to men and women. All supremely confident, all deadly. They moved with the same kind of lethal grace Jordan did.
They were all strangely amused by Trish, in the same way Zadia was. It made her feel a little like a bug under a microscope, being observed by everyone around them, which just increased her anxiety.
The Wolf turned his attention back to Jordan and Trish, which made her want to crawl under the table and hide.
“Your girl is uncomfortable with an audience,” the Wolf observed, studying Trish.
She shrank back against Jordan, since crawling under the table wasn’t an option.
