“Back around,” he ordered.
Slowly, she rotated, her gaze cast to the floor.
Gathering the material of her silky camisole in his fingers, he tugged upward. “Arms over your head,” he said.
She complied, and he pulled the shirt free of her body. She closed her eyes and crossed her arms over as much bare skin as she could.
“Arms down.”
Again, his voice sent shivers quaking over her body. Slowly, she let her arms fall until she stood in front of him, clad in only her panties and bra.
“Open your eyes. Look at me,” Damon said.
She pried one eye open then the other. Behind Damon, the man with the paddle stood looking at her, interest darkening his brown eyes.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Faith. Embrace it. Don’t be ashamed of it.”
He tugged at her bra straps until they tumbled down her shoulders. He stepped close to her and reached around to undo the clasp. All too soon, the bra fell away, and her immediate reaction was to cover herself with her hands. But Damon grabbed her wrists with his hands.
“No.”
The one word shot over her, and she stood, knees quaking, waiting for the rest.
“Slip out of your shoes,” he said calmly.
She kicked them off and nudged them away with her toe.
His hands glided down her sides to her hips, where his fingers dug into the lacy band of her panties. Slowly and methodically, he inched them down until they too fell to the floor.
Oh God, she was naked. Was it possible to endure a full body blush? Because she felt red-hot from head to toe, and she bet her skin had to be flushed.
Damon’s hands returned to her hips. His fingers brushed her skin lightly as they climbed higher to her breasts. He palmed the fleshy mounds and rubbed his thumb over the nipples until they hardened to puckered buttons.
Liquid heat pooled between her legs, and more than anything she wanted to slide her fingers down to her clit so she could alleviate the burning ache.
He reached down for her hand then turned to the man standing behind him. “She’s all yours, Brent.”
Faith gulped and waited for the man’s command. Brent’s eyes narrowed as he studied her. She felt his gaze on parts of her body that already tingled and pulsed.
“Come to me,” he said.
She moved forward with halting steps. He pointed to the same apparatus the last woman had lain across.
“Stomach down, arms over the other side, legs spread and lined up with the legs of the stool.”
She bit her lip but complied, moving forward to fit her stomach to the warm leather pad. She leaned forward then felt Damon’s hands on her back as he helped her into position.
“If at any time you want to stop, just say so,” Damon said close to her ear. “I’ll be right here.”
Another hand, one more unfamiliar, caressed her ass. The sheer forbidden quality of a stranger touching her so intimately should be more exciting. Though her legs trembled and felt jellylike, Brent’s touch failed to fire her senses.
Without warning, the paddle met the flesh of her ass in a loud smack. She jumped. It startled her. Then she frowned. While she hadn’t envisioned some stinging, lashing blow, the light pat on her ass had been just that. A pat.
The paddle fell again, this time on the other cheek as he had done with the other woman. Her brow furrowed. Was this all there was to it?
Her nerve endings were on fire with anticipation. She wanted—no she needed—something, though she wasn’t sure what. More of a push, more of an edge. Not this light pat on the butt she was getting.
Another blow fell, and tears of disappointment pricked her eyes. She raised her head, prepared to tell Damon to make Brent stop when her gaze locked on the entrance across the room.
A gasp escaped her that had nothing to do with the blow that landed on her backside. Standing in the entrance, his gaze solidly locked on her, was Gray.
CHAPTER 17
Gray stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a fierce expression on his face. What on earth was he doing here? Mortification gripped Faith as he continued to stare at her, tension rolling off him in waves.
But then she shook her head. No, she had nothing to be ashamed of. She didn’t know what the hell he was doing here, and she didn’t care. She gazed defiantly at him, determined not to back down in shame.
Her head slowly lowered, and she shut her eyes tight in disappointment as another tap landed on her behind. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. A tear dripped down and hit the floor beneath her.
Clearly this was all for show, a spectacle more for the observer than the participant. Or maybe it just didn’t do it for her. She felt so close. On the cusp of something.
Her skin crawled with need. She felt edgy, restless, and she’d had enough.
Once again, she raised her head and opened her mouth to halt the entire process. Her mouth continued to gape open when she saw Gray standing just a foot away, his eyes blazing with promise. Promise of what?
Brent stepped back, then moved toward Gray. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two men size each other up. Then Gray turned his head to Damon. “May I?” he asked as he gestured toward the paddle in Brent’s hand.
Damon shook his head resolutely. “Absolutely not.”
“Ask her,” Gray said in a steely voice. “Ask her if she wants it.” His blue eyes caressed her face, challenging her, baiting her.
God, he wanted to spank her? Her body prickled to life, and her blood roared like a raging river in her veins. She gulped, trying to breathe around her heavy tongue.
Damon looked between her and Gray, his expression questioning. “Faith? Is this something you want? He isn’t a member here. He’ll be escorted out. All you have to do is say the word.”
She licked dry lips, trying desperately to work up the nerve to go where she dared. Slowly she nodded.
“No, Faith, I have to hear you. You tell me what you want,” Damon insisted.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes,” she said in a louder voice. “Please.” Her voice cracked, and she relaxed her neck for a moment, the strain of holding her head up uncomfortable.
She was crazy. This cemented it. But Brent wasn’t doing it for her. In fact, for as turned on as she was by the visuals she’d experienced, as soon as Brent had touched her, she’d gone as flat as day-old Coke.
The idea of Gray touching her, of him being the one to dominate her…She shuddered and felt a surge of moisture between her legs.
A firm hand cupped her chin and directed her gaze up. She met Gray’s eyes and blinked as he stared piercingly at her.
“Can you take it, Faith?”
He’d thrown down the challenge now. Her eyes narrowed.
“Don’t play games,” he said softly. “I’ll take you where you want to go, but you have to be willing to get there.”
He stared at her for another long second before letting her chin slide from his hand. She cocked her head to the side to watch him as he turned to Damon.
“Tie her hands,” he directed.
She swallowed in surprise and started to protest, but she bit her tongue. No, this was what she wanted. And she knew Damon would call a halt if she so much as squeaked.
Damon bent and tied one wrist to the leg of the stool with a leather thong. Then he secured her other one.
“And her ankles,” Gray said.
She closed her eyes, anticipation nearly undoing her as both ankles were tied to the wooden legs. Lord, but she felt vulnerable. Tied hand and foot, ass in the air, pussy exposed for the world to see.
And it stirred her as nothing ever had before.
She heard his footsteps as he moved around behind her. One finger trailed down the seam of her ass and paused just above her pussy entrance.
Touch me. Oh please touch me.
But he didn’t.
He pulled his hand away, and then the paddle met her flesh in a stinging smack. Her body lurched forward, and her eyes flew open in shock.