Page 35 of Pandora's Pleasure

My face felt scorching hot; she knew Damien had done this to me.

I couldn’t drag my stare away.

“Ms. Bardot, what is your first thought?”

She knows what happened in that loft.

A sense of betrayal flipped my world and turned an already ruined evening into a nightmare.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” she whispered.

My throat tightened with grief over a breakup there was no coming back from. Damien had told her what we’d done. All trust was lost.

“Why?” My chest heaved with uncertainty.

“This is the tamest thing he likes.” She slid the tequila shot glass toward me.

“What?”

She gave me a sympathetic smile.

I gave my head a little shake to clear it, trying to grasp her meaning.

“The moment you walked out of my office with that necklace, I felt guilty. What wearing it brings…”

“What does it bring?”

“Pain, pleasure…everything that traverses the spectrum of bondage. Do you understand what I’m saying? I need you to know what is expected of you if you wear it.”

I blinked at her. “He likes it rough?”

She swiped the screen. “Look.”

Another photo, only this one was of a woman kneeling before a man in a suit. She was dressed in a bodice with no panties, peering up at him with adoration. Her hands were tied behind her back with black silk.

“How does it make you feel?” asked Madeline.

My nipples beaded, my body shuddering through the realization that I was aroused by what she was showing me. My face flushed with embarrassment as I imagined being that girl.

“Very good, Pandora.” She approved of my reaction and slid to another photo. “Now this.”

Needing a break from the assault on my mind and senses, I reached for the shot glass and downed the tequila, swallowing the burn. It tasted nasty.

“Want some water?” she asked.

“Just show it to me already.”

Oh, God.

Both of us stared down at an image of a naked woman completely bound in rope, hanging from the ceiling. Her breasts were caught in the binds themselves, pink and very pert nipples peeking out between the strands of rope. Her lover’s face was buried between her thighs and he was making her come hard, her blonde locks flying wild as he feasted on her pussy, her mouth open as though crying out in agony. Another swipe led to the next image, showing her with a half smile on her face.

Madeline offered me an earbud connected to her phone. I slipped it in, swept away by what came next—actual footage.

On the screen a woman was moaning loudly as two men took her. Both of them had their cocks shoved deep inside her, one in her vagina and the other in her ass.

Rhodes was showing this to me, here—with all these oblivious people around us—in the St. Regis, no less.

Yet I continued to watch…mesmerized by the footage. It was the way the woman looked up at her lovers with wanton gratitude, as though this experience of being taken by two men was a gift meant to be savored. The woman was enraptured by what they were doing to her, her thighs shaking uncontrollably, her moans echoing. I pulled the earbud out to make sure no one else could hear.