Seducing Jane Porter (3 page)

“And will you share this one with your best friend?”

“We’ll have to see how adventurous she is.”

Antonio vividly remembered the first time he and Santos had shared a woman. They’d been at college here in America and Santos had picked up a beautiful Latino girl with long, dark hair and wicked hands. It had been she who’d convinced them to overcome their hesitation and join her in the bed. With that beautiful woman sandwiched between them, both men had experienced a deeper level of pleasure than ever before.

Over the years they’d shared many women though none would ever be considered a relationship. It was all in good fun and they treated their mutual women like queens both in bed and out.

The image of the blonde in his bed struck him with the force of a hammer blow. Her lush body on his sheets, her silken cries as he ate at her pussy like a starving man…

His breathing increased.

Wet, hot, hungry for both of them…

His cock in her mouth, or her bare ass up in the air as Santos paddled her…

He gritted his teeth, glorying in the swift rush of lust that struck him. The sensation was thick like warm honey in his veins. His breath left in a rush and he swore. His zipper dug into his engorged cock with such force it was all he could do not to wince.

“Slow down, my friend, we don’t even know her name.”

Santos began to laugh when Antonio was forced to readjust his aching cock. His teeth gritted at the rush of arousal the innocent nudge created. Before the night was over, not only would they know her name, they’d know every inch of that beautiful body. They’d possess her mind, body and soul and she’d be ruined for any other man.

She would be theirs.

Everyone was friendly and more than willing to engage in a conversation or a laugh, but so far no one had managed to ignite a spark of sexual interest. There were a number of men who’d tried, but she was left cold in the face of their advances. Here she was ready to embrace her sensual side and there was no one to heed her call.

How was that for irony?

Jane scowled. She really was making an effort to enjoy herself. It was a diverse crowd, but her level of disinterest was high. With one man she’d found it difficult to discuss the latest box office smash while he wore a devil mask and his nipple rings jiggled with every word he spoke.

It was more than disheartening, it was damned near tragic. Here she was, all dressed up and no one to spank her.

Just when she feared the Jiggler was going to make a serious move for her, a woman in a skintight cream-colored cat suit arrived to distract him. More than grateful, Jane made her escape to snag a seat at a tiny table near the entrance to the ballroom. At least the view was good from here.

She stifled a yawn. Luckily for her she’d thought ahead and packed several erotic romance novels along with her much-neglected vibrator. If the clock struck midnight and she was still without an option, she would head back to her room alone. With every passing minute her solitary bed was looking better and better as her high heels were killing her feet.

With a gentle moan of relief, Jane eased her foot out of the left one, leaving the shoe to dangle off her toe. At this moment, taking off her shoes would be more satisfying than sex.

Now that was truly sad.

The blare of a trumpet took her attention away from her aching feet and almost jolted her off the stool. Swiveling, Dirk and Kitten entered the ballroom and everyone began to clap.

Dirk was a tall man with ruffled blond hair and broad shoulders. He was clad in black velvet from head to toe complete with a fluff of white lace at the throat. He reminded her of one of the Three Musketeers and he looked every inch a romance hero.

His wife Kitten walked by his side. Jane had no idea what her real name was, Katherine…Katrina….something like that. The bulge of the other woman’s belly caught her attention and Jane’s eyes widened. Kitten was pregnant, very pregnant. Even with the belly bulge, the woman still managed to look delicate and feminine beside her tall husband.

Her streaky golden hair was arranged in a complicated coil and she sported a dainty ivory mask. Her ripe figure was covered in sheer pink silk though she might as well have been nude. Her feet were bare and she moved with such a regal grace that Jane couldn’t help but envy. Around Kitten’s throat was a golden collar and Dirk carried a leash made of narrow golden links.

Both of them were smiling and calling out to friends as Dirk escorted his wife to a plush couch near the stage. Once he was sure she was settled, Dirk kissed her cheek then took the stage. Raising his hand, he motioned for everyone to quiet down.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” His voice was deep. “I’d like to thank all of you for joining us for this very special occasion. Tonight is my half-brother Antonio’s twenty-ninth birthday.”

A cheer rose from the crowd and the trumpet sounded again. A dark figure entered the ballroom just a few feet from where Jane sat. Her stomach clenched as he moved toward the stage.

He was quite tall like his brother, and he moved with an easy, catlike grace. Clad in black jeans and T-shirt, he was the only person wearing more clothing than she. Dark hair licked at his broad shoulders and he literally oozed testosterone. He had the physique of a man who worked hard for a living, from his wide shoulders and brawny arms down to a narrow waist and the tightest ass Jane ever had the pleasure of gazing upon.

All she could think of was sinking her fingers into the warm flesh of his buttocks. She’d bet her next paycheck that Antonio Villareal was an animal in bed. He possessed a barely leashed sexual energy that alerted every female of his presence.

She licked her lips. Maybe she hadn’t waxed her legs for nothing after all.

Women crowded around him and he smiled and nodded at the ladies who reached for him though he stopped to speak to no one. Approaching the stage, he ignored the steps and leapt onto the platform.

A waiter walked onto the stage with a tray of champagne and the men each accepted a glass. Jane could barely tear her gaze away from Antonio. His plain black mask covered most of his face leaving only the lower half visible.

For Jane it was enough. He had a strong jaw and a quick smile that told her he used it frequently. A sense of humor was very sexy indeed.

“May I introduce my baby brother, Antonio?” Dirk tossed an arm around his neck. “The best damned brother a man could ever have.”

Antonio’s smile widened, “Better than you deserve, bro.”

The liquid warmth of his voice trickled down Jane’s spine as the crowd laughed. He had a slight accent, just enough to cause her to sit up straighter.

“A toast to my humble brother.” Dirk raised his glass. “Happy birthday, Antonio.”

Salut.

Jane raised her glass in a silent nod to the birthday boy.

Antonio took a sip of his champagne though he seemed preoccupied. His gaze moved restlessly around the crowd as if he were searching for someone—a woman perhaps?

“So now, my wife and I invite you to enjoy a special scene we’d like to share with you.” Dirk was speaking again. “Please find a place to get comfortable as the fun is about to begin.”

A scene? On stage?

Murmurs broke out in the crowd while Antonio and Dirk tossed back their glasses of champagne then left the stage. Within seconds Jane lost sight of the handsome birthday boy.

Her gaze darted to her watch. Only fifteen minutes to go.

People were taking their seats on the couches and pillows while Jane opted to stay put. Her gaze scanned the crowd and she caught sight of Lily standing off to one side with Jean Jacques. It didn’t surprise her to see they were arguing again.

Even though her friend was almost a foot shorter than her companion, she didn’t hesitate to get in his face. Well, his collar anyway. Her color was high as she poked her finger into his chest with abandon. His mouth was tight and Jane could tell he wasn’t terribly pleased with being dressed down by a petite redheaded tyrant.

Without warning, Jean Jacques swept the mouthy woman off her feet and over his shoulder like she was a sack of laundry. He turned and Jane had to smother a laugh. Lily hung upside down smacking him on the ass and screeching like a loon as they exited the ballroom. Jane smirked.

So much for professionalism.

If he was a smart man, he’d find the nearest horizontal surface and he’d fuck her until she was too exhausted to bitch any more. They wanted each other and by denying it all they were doing was making those around them miserable.

A waiter approached with a tray of champagne and Jane took a glass. “Good night, Lily.”

The golden liquid danced across her tongue and slid down her throat. In sheer bliss, her eyes slid closed. If she knew her friend, she’d either return to the ballroom bristling with indignation or Jane wouldn’t see her for the rest of the night.

For Lily’s sake, she hoped for the latter.

Being alone at the party didn’t bother her, it wasn’t like she didn’t speak the language. Besides—she snagged a mini mushroom quiche from a passing waiter—the food was fabulous. And what was the next best thing to sex?

Food.

And then?

Taking off these feet-crippling shoes…

Kicking off the offending heels, Jane snagged a few more
canapés
before the lights dimmed. A buzz of excitement passed through the crowd. Two men dressed in black walked across the stage to move the restraint frame front and center. The chains dangling from each corner clanked against the metal frame and the sound sent a zing of arousal through her body.

Jane couldn’t help but be fascinated. She’d never been to a party where a bondage scene had been acted out for the attendees. Of the few leather parties she’d attended, it wasn’t unusual to see someone being spanked in a corner, but never on a stage in front of everyone.

Next they moved the silk draped table close to the frame before exiting the stage. The leather cuffs on the frame still swayed when a blond man mounted the steps. Every inch of his well-muscled body gleamed with oil and he was clad in black bike shorts. He was the only person not wearing a mask and considering he resembled a Grecian god, Jane was grateful for the unimpeded view.

In one hand he held a leash attached to a collar worn by a woman who walked at his heels. She walked with her gaze forward and head held high. She was tall and very curvy, what Lily would call a juicy figure. A red half mask shielded her face.

Clad in a white sheath, her long reddish blonde hair hung in thick curly ropes to the tips of her erect nipples. Jane’s stomach tightened and her cunt gave a twinge.

The man led her to the frame before removing the leash. Taking her hands, he made quick work of binding her wrists with the leather cuffs. Dropping to his knees, he repeated the process with her ankles until she was fully bound with her arms and legs wide apart.

With the lighting as it was, her shift became sheer and her luscious curves were clearly illuminated. The sweet tuft of hair between her thighs was visible and Jane could swear she saw a damp spot on the sheath.

A male voice pronounced the woman to be “fucking incredible”.

The blond grasped the frame and released the lock. The frame rotated easily until the woman was facing away from the audience. Applying the lock, he secured the frame then reached for her.

Running his hand up the back of one leg, he raised the hem of the sheath to expose her plump buttocks.

Jane shuddered when he gave one ass cheek a firm squeeze. Moisture soaked the miniscule crotch of her thong panties. Never had she felt the desire to participate in a public scene such as this one though judging from her wet pussy, it was definitely a turn on for her. She licked her lips.

How did it feel to be on the stage in front of an audience and at this man’s mercy? Her corset seemed to shrink as it became harder to draw breath.

The man ran his hands over his slave’s plump buttocks, his tanned skin looked incredibly erotic against her pale flesh. He was speaking to her but Jane couldn’t make out what he was saying. His hand continued its slow movement, pausing from time to time to cup a handful of flesh and give it a gentle squeeze.

The woman’s hips began to move, pushing her plump backside against his hand as if to silently ask for more. A sharp crack rent the air and the room fell silent. The woman jerked away as if she’d experienced an electrical shock. A pale pink handprint appeared on her ass.

Jane’s thighs tightened and she choked back a whimper. Her grip on the champagne flute tightened.

“You will not move until I give you permission, woman.”

The deep voice sent tendrils of pleasure through Jane’s body. Her pussy clenched again and she swallowed the champagne in an effort to relieve her suddenly dry throat.

The master moved away from the woman to a table covered by a red silk cloth. He yanked away the cloth and Jane’s eyes widened when she saw what it had concealed. The table was covered with an array of sex toys, some of which she didn’t recognize though she would enjoy making their intimate acquaintance.

He chose a leather paddle and Jane almost slid off her chair. A rush of liquid heat invaded her cunt and her nipples ached.

He ran his hand over her buttocks then replaced his hand with the paddle, gently rubbing it over her ass. Her hips jerked and he delivered a swift swat to tender flesh.

The tension level in the room ratcheted higher and one woman in the audience gave a lusty sigh.

The man began paddling his submissive, the sound of leather against flesh was heady. His slave tried to keep her body still but it was a losing battle. With every blow her receptive body twisted and strained against the cuffs holding her in place.

Her silken whimpers grew louder with each stroke and sweat broke out on Jane’s upper lip. Tightening her thighs, though she wasn’t sure if it was to bring on an orgasm or avoid it. She feared if she were to touch herself now it would be all over.

She glanced at her watch.

Damn, eight more minutes to go.

“You haven’t obeyed your master.” His voice rang out. “And for that you must be reprimanded.”

He reached around the back of the frame and Jane heard the slide of metal. From the floor a wide black leather-covered table came up to the woman’s waist. The top of the frame bent forward, forcing her to lean on the table to support her upper torso. This position forced her legs wider, leaving her dripping pussy visible to those who were watching.

“You are not to come until I give you permission, slave.” He put his hand on the small of her back. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.” Her voice came out high and thin with need.