Page 81 of Arran's Obsession

With a swish of my hair, I climbed onto the Saint Andrew’s cross, beckoning to the helpful woman to tie me on. It was just about my size, and I adjusted my position as she tightened the wrist restraints, the sensation of having my legs so wide alarming.

My dress barely covered my ass.

My heart beat so fast, but I wasn’t backing down.

“How about the mask, honey?” she asked.

I nodded, and she collected a black eye mask with skeleton print.

She tugged it over my head, but I paused her so I could lift my chin in challenge at Arran. “Well, what are you waiting for? You wanted your hands on me. Come and get me or let the rest of them have a go. I don’t give a tiny fuck which you choose.”

Chapter 25

Shade

Genevieve indicated for the staff member to lower her mask and rested her head back, her lips open over fast breathing and the skirt of her dress rucked up high around her spread legs to the point of revealing her pink thong.

Not that I was fucking looking.

I’d burn out the eyes of any arsehole who tried.

Arran circled the freestanding cross then stood right in front of her. Red streaked her chest where the sex club had got her flustered.

I’d expected the place to freak her out, yet she’d explored. Had fun tormenting Arran. I liked this lass. She was running circles around my friend. Still, there was no way he was going to let strangers participate.

A man neared, his interest obvious.

I huffed a sarcastic breath. “Don’t even consider it, pal. If he doesn’t break your fucking neck, I will.”

The punter about-turned and slipped away. Arran held his gaze on me, something strange in his expression.

He lifted his chin. “She’s on this for a reason.”

I watched him, my certainty slipping.

“My woman wants someone else’s hands on her as well as mine,” he said a little louder.

I gave an incredulous laugh. “Ye want me to round up some of these fuckers to come paw at her?”

An unbearable thought. Arran shook his head. He’d die before he’d let them near her. I would, too. They’d chosen each other which made her precious to the crew. Arran practically shook with need, and I was seconds away from yelling for every other arsehole to evacuate the club so they could have the space to themselves.

Yet he lifted a finger to pause me, then beckoned the woman who’d helped her up on the frame to come closer. Whispered something in her ear.

She dipped her head and traced a finger down Genevieve’s arm, making the lass jump.

What the hell?

Then he tilted his head at me, a challenge there.

Oh, fuck my life. He wanted me to be part of some twisted game.

I shrugged and moved closer to stand behind her, my friend dead in my eyeline and his spreadeagled woman on the frame between us. This wouldn’t last long.

“Holding up okay?” Arran asked in a Genevieve taunt. “You’ve got men here ready to touch you any way they please. Fingers ripping your clothes, feeling up your cunt.”

Genevieve’s muffled voice returned. “Why not? You can’t satisfy me.”

I could’ve laughed at her comeback, but I valued my throat.