“Fuck,” she whispered, sounding so desperate and high. “Oh, God. Harder.”
But maybe Michael was a little right. Maybe I wanted to see what she looked like and what she was feeling written all over her face. Maybe I did want to see the men watching her, because I wanted to know what turned them on, see the lust in their eyes, and feel a measure of it when I looked at them.
And maybe I wanted to see Michael watching her. To see if there was need and hunger there, and how hot it would feel to be her and have his eyes on me like that.
Did I want to be screwed in front of a room full of people? No. Not ever.
But I wanted to lose the blindfold and see some of what I had yet to experience. To live through her and imagine what she was feeling.
And imagine that it was Michael’s hands on me.
The pulse in my clit started to throb, and I bit my bottom lip, trying to resist the urge to lean into him.
“Sex is an unnecessary need, Rika,” Michael spoke low next to me. “Do you know what that means?”
I shook my head, too weary to do anything more.
“We don’t need sex to survive, but we need it to live,” he explained. “It’s a high, and one of the few things in life where all five senses are at their absolute peek.”
I felt him brush my arm and knew he’d moved behind me, the warmth of his chest blanketing my back.
“They see her,” he whispered in my ear, still not touching me, “that beautiful body moving and panting underneath him as he fucks her.”
I breathed harder, closing my fists around the hem of my skirt.
“They hear her moans,” he went on, “and it’s like music, because it shows that she’s loving everything that’s happening to her right now. He can smell her skin, feel her sweat, and taste her mouth.”
He leaned into my back, pushing his chest into me, but I still couldn’t feel his hands. I squeezed my eyes shut behind my blindfold. Touch me.
“It’s a feast for his body,” Michael’s sultry voice breathed out above my ear, “and that’s exactly why, next to money, sex is the one thing that drives the world, Rika. That’s why they’re watching. That’s why you want to watch. Nothing compares to having someone own you like that, even if it’s just for an hour.”
I slowly twisted my head, speaking to him. “And what about love?” I challenged. “Isn’t that better than sex?”
“Have you ever had sex?”
“Have you ever been in love?” I threw back.
He remained silent, and I wondered if he was playing with my head again or if he didn’t want to tell me yes. I ignored the latter, choosing to believe the former. Please tell me he hadn’t been in love with anyone. Or worse, loved someone now.
I felt him move back to my side, and chills spread over my body at the loss of his heat.
“Isn’t she afraid people will find out?” I asked quietly. “Like at school?”
“Do you think she should be?”
Well, I would be. I may be inexperienced, but that didn’t mean I was innocent. Things done in the dark hours of night, behind closed doors, or in the heat of the moment looked a lot different in the morning, out in the open, and with a clear head. Yeah, there were things we wanted, impulses we felt, but acting on those desires brought consequences we weren’t always willing to accept, either. And maybe they were consequences we shouldn’t have to accept, but they existed nonetheless.
The girl, whoever she was, was acting of her own rules, but she’d suffer according to everyone else’s.
Which sucked.
Maybe that’s what Michael wanted me to see. Down here, in the dark, in an underground tomb with him, I got a taste of a different reality. One where the only things taboo were the rules, and to see all the things people dared to do in an environment where they had freedom.
Reaching up, I slid my fingers under the necktie secured around my eyes, ready to slip it off, but he took my hand, pulling it away from my face.
I turned my head, speaking to him at my side. “I want to see.”
“No.”
I exhaled a sigh and turned forward again, hearing the girl’s panting getting faster and louder. “You think I’m too young,” I stated, turning my head to speak to him at my side. “But I’m not.”
“Did I say that?” he snapped, his tone suddenly gone hard. “You keep putting words into my mouth.”
“Then why did you let me come down here?”
He paused, and then answered in a flat tone, “Who am I to deny you anything?”
I drew in a sharp breath, anger seeping into every muscle in my body. “I’m sick of your vague responses,” I bit out. “Why did you let me come down here?”
What did he want with me? Why press that I could do what I wanted and handle myself, and then keep me restrained, still tethered on a leash?
Did he even know what he was doing?
Screw this. I didn’t need his permission.