Page 116 of House of Crimson Hearts
“Spread those legs wider, and show them what’s mine,” she says.
I obey and realise that several of the people beneath us have stopped fucking, dancing, and gyrating to watch us.
My skin warms, blood rushing into my cheeks as my breathing increases. I want to touch myself, I can feel the wetness pooling between my open legs, the air cooling it against me. The more their eyes crawl across my body, my breasts, my cunt, the harder my nipples form.
My mouth falls open, my breathing ragged.
“You like being watched?” Octavia says.
I nod and her grin deepens.
“Stay there. Don’t move an inch.”
She speeds off and when she returns, she’s naked, her pierced nipples peeking out between the locks of her hair. But she’s also harnessed up, a thick cock bouncing between her legs as she walks.
“Fuck,” I say, a little hiss escaping my lips.
My body is already vibrating with need. She sits on the chair, her legs closed together and beckons me forward. I rise, and she spins me around and sits me on her lap, facing the crowd. I slide my legs over hers, leaning my back against her, the cock pressed against my ass.
Slowly she opens her thighs, pushing my legs open and baring my pussy to the crowd below.
More people have stopped to watch us, and it fills my body with electricity. Her hand slides around my abs, drifting along the hard edges of my body.
“I’m going to touch you now,” she whispers against me.
“Yes,” I say.
She slips her fingers between my legs and over my pussy. It’s instant pleasure. My head sags against her shoulder as I let out a moan.
Her fingers glide between my folds, drawing up and sliding down over and over until I’m rocking my hips to make her move faster. She spreads her legs wider and slips a finger inside me, her other hand massaging my breast and tugging at my nipple.
Everyone beneath us is motionless now. They’ve ceased their own fucking, dancing, and drinking to watch us. And the more eyes I see on me, the more excited I get.
“So wet for me,” Octavia says.
“Yes,” I whimper. “I need more,” I pant, as she slams her finger inside me, and I arch back.
She pulls out of me and shoves me forward. She pulls my chin around and slides the finger that was inside me into her mouth. She bites down, her fang re-piercing the finger I drank from earlier. My body warms, my mouth fills with saliva and the desperate need to drink her. She pulls her finger out and offers it to me, with everyone watching. This is how she makes them see, how everyone will know I’m hers. The only thing she could do to seal it further is drink from me, and that isn’t happening.
I take her finger in my mouth. There’s a drawn breath beneath us and I know they’ve seen.
She has claimed me.
No one can touch me now. And yet, this secret stays inside the walls of the club. A moment shared, a memory kept locked away.
She pushes her finger deeper into my mouth, the taste of my juices and her blood mingling together into a cocktail of bliss.
She lifts me up by the thighs like I weigh nothing and hovers me over the cock. Then she lowers me on to it, spreading me so wide I gasp.
Lower and lower she plunges me, filling my pussy.
I’m seated back on her thighs, facing away from her and toward the audience. When the cock is in me to the hilt, she moves, slow at first, tilting her hips and drawing the thick shaft in and out of my cunt.
I moan, waves of pleasure pulsing out from my core. She reaches around to play with my clit as she rocks harder, bouncing me on her thighs, urged on by the slap of our legs as we crash together.
“Octavia,” I whimper.
And hearing her name moaned like a curse makes her snap. She rears up, holding me to her body and rushes us to the edge of the balcony. She bends me over, my hands grip the rail.
