Page 83 of Arran's Obsession
Arran’s deep voice returned, close to my ear. “You have an audience, baby.”
The fingers at my breast were replaced by a hot and wet mouth. The owner sucking my nipple and curling their tongue around to tease me.
I groaned at the sensation, wary and aroused in equal parts. Everyone was here for sex, but that didn’t ease my uneasiness.
“Is that good?” he taunted.
“Y-yes.”
Another mouth landed on my other breast, the two people hardening my nipples with their sucking. God, that felt so good and so wrong. Confusion broke over me in a chill.
“Have you any idea how many men here want to fuck you?” Arran taunted. “How many are dying to take a piece? Should we let them see more of you?”
“I don’t care,” I gritted out.
“Really?”
His fingers met the hem of my dress where it stretched taut over the very tops of my thighs. The two people sucking me, women, I imagined for the sake of my sanity, moved aside but didn’t let me go. I pictured them shifting out of his way, giving him space for whatever shadowy game he had in mind.
Arran grazed his knuckle over my core. I moaned, the tiny contact delicious.
“Hope you’re not attached to this dress.
A rip of material sounded, the hem tearing. Or…slicing?
His knife. He was cutting it off me.
I whimpered, somehow even more turned on, my underwear soaked and fresh air ghosting over my belly.
Then I felt it. The cold touch of metal at my core. He’d cut upwards then returned down low, the point of his blade kissing my flesh right above my clit.
I froze.
Didn’t even breathe.
A tiny move from him and my gauzy underwear split from contact with the blade, exposing my most secret place. I stayed perfectly still, terrified, and horribly, awfully excited.
Arran rumbled a dangerous sound.
That icy hint of the blade caused a throb inside. One flinch and I’d bleed.
Then the knife moved back to my dress, slicing upwards so it shredded through the centre and finished the job of parting the two sides. My chest heaved, my breasts heavy and my nipples so hard they had their own pulse.
I tried to imagine how I looked, spread out on the cross, the ruined black dress hanging either side of me and only held on by the constraining band at my waist. Then my exposed breasts, now left alone, the women, or whoever, stepping away. Finally between my legs, my split underwear hiding nothing.
“Easier for someone to fuck you, now.”
I jumped again at Arran’s voice.
My panic swarmed, my pulse skipping out of time. I wanted to taunt him back or thank him for clearing the way. But my throat had seized.
Abruptly, he palmed me, straight between my legs, splitting the underwear fully.
In shock, I jerked and bowed out my knees, but I had nowhere to go within my constraints. He gave a low laugh and eased his fingers over my wet centre, not entering me but skirting over my pussy and my ass.
A moan tore from me. My hips rocked by themselves.
“Tell me what you think of my woman,” he ordered.