They were on display, who knew how many people watching, but they were completely alone. She was completely his. Her adoration of him not in question. And this adoration was not what he could do to her. Not what he gave to her. That was only a part of the love she had for her master.

She loved him.

His devotion was the same. Unhidden, completely exposed. Every move he made was entirely focused on her pleasure. On her.

She was the center of his universe, at play and not.

After an unusual succession of three lashes, her moan came deeper and I again could not control the direction of my gaze.

It moved to my left.

When it did I saw that Nick Sebring was entirely focused on the scene. Leaned slightly to his right, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, his hand up, his thumb distractedly tracing his lower lip.

At this sight, my sex, already damp, convulsed.

I wet my lip and bit it, watching his thumb move along his. Wanting my tongue to replace his thumb with a yearning the strength of which I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt.

Without warning, his head turned, his gaze capturing mine.

His eyes were a startling blue. Pure blue. Like the ocean.

I wet my lip again.

Those blue eyes dropped to it.

My nipples tightened.

A noise came from the window and I looked that way, seeing the man was now rubbing his partner between her legs. She was working his hand, writhing against her bonds, desperate for every inch of contact he gave her.

I felt my breaths begin to get heavy and tightened my thighs against each other.

The man went from between her legs to her fly. He undid it and pulled her jeans down over her ass. Once bared, he paid attention to it with whip, hand and lips.

I again bit my own lip, this time to hold back the inadvertent noises I would emit at how what I was watching was making me feel.

He pulled her ponytail free, her long, curling, red-blonde hair falling down her back and swaying against skin that had to be beyond sensitized. Seeing this, I felt my own hair trapped between my back and the seat and I wanted it released. I wanted it moving against my skin. I wanted to use it against his.

Not the master working his slave before me.

The man with the pleasantly deep voice and ruggedly handsome face beside me.

Sebring.

The master pressed his hand back between her legs, now unobstructed by her jeans.

Her noises became desperate.

His growls of approval became audible.

Witnessing that, hearing it, instantly, my need became uncontrollable.

Utterly.

I looked left and saw Sebring’s eyes not on the scene but on my crossed legs.

I uncrossed them and they cut to my face.

His gaze was burning, searing holes right through me.