He stood and moved his chair a few feet away, positioning himself with a sidelong view of the show. “Arturo.”
The massive guard pocketed his blade and lumbered around the table to stand behind Iliana. A zipper sounded, and a heartbeat later, Iliana’s mouth fell open in a silent scream of rapture.
Good for her.
She writhed and bucked and bounced her breasts in the spread of Kate’s legs. Arturo didn’t hold back, his gaze locked on Iliana’s backside as he slammed his hips and scooted the table across the floor.
Each thrust evoked the groans of impending orgasm. Their bodies heaved and slapped together, but no part of them touched Kate. They didn’t have his permission.
She didn’t look at him. Not as the scent of sex infused the kitchen. Not as five minutes pounded into ten. But eventually, her eyes moved on their own, rolling in his direction.
He wasn’t watching them fuck. His stare fixed directly on her, his jaw tight and hands fisted on his thighs.
Fire spread through her, chilling her skin and hardening her nipples. She sucked in a jagged breath, detesting the effect he had on her, hating that he hadn’t forgotten she was here.
He was just biding time, tormenting her with it, until he could hurt her in deeper ways.
Jerking her gaze to the rafters, she couldn’t help the tears that trickled down her temples and collected in her hair.
Eventually, Iliana moaned and trembled through her climax, marking the end of the pre-show.
Kate’s pulse detonated. She was up next.
“Move her to the edge of the table,” Tiago said, his voice a languid drip of sex and smoke.
Iliana floated around Kate, adjusting the rope for the new position. As the tension on Kate’s wrists released, the bindings on her ankles took up the slack.
Calloused hands gripped her thighs and yanked her to the end of the table, drawing her attention to Arturo. He was still clothed, save for the sag of his pants and the angry, wet erection jutting from his open fly.
Bile hit the back of her throat, and her insides clenched against full body tremors.
He couldn’t put that thing inside her. He wasn’t gentle. Or small. It would rip her apart.
He stepped between her legs, his fingers biting into her thigh as he positioned himself.
The trembling in her chin shook more tears loose.
Why was she so terrified? It was just sex, just sex, just sex. People did it all the time.
She needed to loosen the tension down there, make her inner muscles more pliable. Liv had coached her about that, hammering on the importance of relaxing the rectum during anal. But her body refused to calm down. She felt as though she were careening toward a complete loss of heart function, breathing, and consciousness.
“Shhh.” Iliana put her mouth at Kate’s ear. “He’s gonna feel good, babe. I promise he’ll be the best you’ve ever had.”
She’d never had vaginal sex, anal sex, or any kind of sex. Who knew which hole he would tear open? She only knew she didn’t want it, not like this. Not tied to a table, against her will, in front of an audience.
“Fuck her, Arturo.” Tiago’s voice thrummed with impatience. “Make sure she feels it.”
She locked her jaw down so hard it throbbed. The pain flared into defiance, and she twisted her neck, giving Tiago the full force of her eyes.
As he met her glare with a meaner one, she poured all her fear and misery into that shared look. He didn’t twitch, didn’t react with a trace of emotion. There was no moving him.
In a desperate last-ditch attempt, she let a whisper tumble out. “Please, don’t take this from me. It’s all I have left.”
His spine snapped straight, his expression frozen in malice.
Shit. She’d made a sound, broken his rules. This was about to get a whole lot worse.
Arturo’s hips bumped her inner thighs, and her entire body locked up on reflex. She sealed her eyes shut, willing the trembling to ease from her muscles.
His breathing grew heavier, closer, and fingers dug into her leg.
“Basta,” Tiago barked. Footsteps sounded his approach, and his next words came from above her. “Open your eyes.”
She couldn’t look at him.
Keeping her eyes squeezed tight, she angled her head away.
His fingers stabbed into her hair, fisting it near her scalp. Then he yanked, wrenching her face to his and forcing her to meet his terrifying gaze.
He looked at her, really looked for an eternity, as if searching for some answer behind the anguish in her eyes.
Whatever he found there slackened his expression. He released her head and stepped back.
“I changed my mind.” Gripping his nape, he swung his glare to Iliana, then Arturo. “No one touches her but me.”What the fuck am I doing?
Tiago scraped a hand down his face, reeling from shock.
She’s a virgin.
It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t mean anything at all.