Tension

Zina POV 

The hallway had a chilling tension to it, maybe it was because it lacked an eerie amount of light.

There's no crowd back here, but a few people linger along the walls, and unlike in the main room, no one looks at me. They keep to themselves, or each other, and not a single head turns in my direction. Gentle light emits from the large windows on either side, and it takes my brain a few moments to register that the people gathered around the hallway aren't looking at me, because they're busy…with each other.

I don't stare long enough to actually see what they're doing. One man has a woman pressed face-first against the glass as he grinds slowly against her from behind.

 

Trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible, I slink into the darker corners, trying not to be a creep. Moving slowly down the hall, my heart is literally pounding so hard in my chest that I can feel it in my ears. What am I doing here? This is insane.

 

But my curiosity is too strong, and I've gotten this far. One slow step at a time, I make my way farther down the hallway. The first window is open to a room that's too dark to see anything. It's a dim blue light, and there's movement on the other side—the quick, pounding motion of someone being…well, pounded.

 

My throat constricts as I look away then back again.

 

And my belly warms.

 

But I don't stop, turning my head to the other side, where the woman is being dry humped into the window. I can hear the gentle hum of the man's voice as he whispers in her ear. I can only imagine what he's saying…and the filthy thoughts only make me hotter. Beyond the window is what looks like a red room with no one inside. There are a lot of things hanging from the wall, a lot of things I can't even assign names to;

I pass by a couple standing in the middle of the room, giggling to each other as they enjoy the view. The woman smiles at me and the man says hello in a way that makes me walk a little faster. I nod politely and move on.

 

The room on the opposite side is blocked by a black curtain with shreds of light peeking through. So people who want to use the rooms, without being exhibitionists, can do so. A little disappointing, actually.

 

Seriously, who am I?

I got to a room that looks like a throne room and I peeped into it and paused to stare inside.

There are people in it. Three people, unless I'm missing one. It's dimly lit from the inside, enough to see vague figures and movement but not really enough to recognize faces. I then realize that this means we can see them, but they can't really see us.

 

My gaze still bounces from the dark hallway to the people in the room because, even though I know it's made for watching, it feels strange and wrong to just keep staring.

 

Plus, there's the awkward sensation of being aroused…in public.

 

My thin, cotton thong is currently soaked, and every slide of friction when I walk sends sparks up my spine. I have a strong urge to touch myself, which I'm obviously not going to do. Not because it wouldn't be appropriate here, I mean…look around. But I just can't. I couldn't. No. That's too weird.

 

Still, I stop at the throne room and force myself to look. I don't know what to do with my hands as I stand here and stare, so I lock my forearms together at my waist.

 

There's a woman sitting on the giant throne, and another is kneeling in front of her—just as Garrett illustrated for me. She's definitely doing what I think she's doing with her face buried between the other woman's legs.

 

My mouth goes dry. It feels so wrong to be watching this, but I can't look away.

 

There's someone standing next to the throne, but I can't quite make out if it's a woman or man. They're just stroking the woman in the chair's shoulders and head. Every few moments, the woman covers her face or lets out a giggle so loud I can make it out over the sound of the music in the main room. She looks almost euphoric, full of smiles and moans, shifting back and forth between embarrassment and pleasure.

 

The intensity between my legs has grown painful, and I feel myself starting to sweat. I squeeze my thighs together, briefly wondering if I could make myself come without actually touching myself at all. My thighs rub together subtly, and it's like trying to scratch an itch through three layers of wool.

 

"Enjoying yourself?"

 

I let out a gasp and move to jump away, but a strong hand wraps around my middle, hauling me against his body, his lips next to my ear.

"Relax, Zina."

 

"You scared me."

 

"You seem a little jumpy," Jared replies with a teasing grin.

 

I feel like I've been caught masturbating or watching p**n. Shame washes over me like being doused in ice-cold water.

 

"I don't think I'm supposed to be back here," I whisper without turning toward him. He's holding me in place, so we're both watching the threesome in the throne room.

 

"You wouldn't be here if you weren't allowed to. I was hoping you'd find this area." So he did gesture to the bouncer to let me in. I figured, but I'm curious as to why.

"It feels so strange to watch," I whisper.

 

"They want you to watch." His deep, velvet voice warms me right back up.

 

We stand in silence for a moment, watching the show in the throne room, my body still humming with arousal.

 

"No one can see you here, Zina. Doesn't it feel liberating? To know you can do anything you want."

 

My lips part and I try to force in a breath, even though my chest feels like it weighs a ton. My body has turned into a ticking time bomb, ready to explode, and I want to scream with this need I'm feeling.

 

Jared's body is hard against mine and he's still holding me around my waist. In the dark room, the man has moved to the front of the throne with the ladies. He leans over and kisses the kneeling woman. Then, he keeps moving until he's standing behind her.

 

A subtle gasp escapes my lips when I realize what he's doing: pulling up her dress and undoing his pants. And then even in the darkness there's the unmistakable motion of his hips as he enters her.

 

I turn my head, trying to look away. But a strong hand holds my chin gently, turning my head back to the window.

"Watch them. You know you want to."

 

I do want to. But the ache between my legs is almost unbearable. My knees begin to buckle, and Jared holds me tighter.

 

"What's wrong?" he whispers in my ear.

 

"Nothing," I stammer, forcing my voice to stay level.

 

"You can touch yourself back here, Zina . No one can see you."

 

"No," I snap. "I can't."

 

My hips shift, and I feel something hard against my lower back. As I brush along the length of it, he groans and squeezes me tighter, driving his hips into me.

 

I take in a sharp inhale, my vision growing blurry. He's hard.

 

Jared is hard, and he's rubbing his erection against me.

 

"You feel that?" he whispers. "That's what you do to me."

 

Me? Not the display of sex all around us? The orgasm cries and sounds of bodies slapping together?

 

Knowing the effect I have on him drives me to shift my hips back just slightly, and he responds with a growl in my ear.

 

Maybe because it's dark or because this is just how he is, but it doesn't feel wrong. It feels…right. We're not crossing a line…just sharing an experience. It's natural and normal, and I'm not ashamed.

Jared's hand glides down my arm until he catches my fingers in his hand, and I'm confused by what he's doing until the other hand gathers my dress, pulling it up until I'm exposed. I can hardly breathe or think when he leads my own hand to the front of my panties.

 

"Touch yourself, Zina."

 

A whimper escapes my lips. I resist, trying to pull my hand away, but he doesn't let me go. When my fingers reach my clit, even over the cotton of my thong, pleasure radiates through me. At this point, I couldn't pull them away if I tried.

 

"It's okay. Don't feel ashamed." His lips are touching my ear, and I relax against him, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder as he slides my panties aside and presses my fingers against my clit. I don't even bother fighting anymore.

 

The man in the throne room has picked up speed, slamming into the kneeling woman at a steady rhythm. Their moans and cries are audible now, and it only urges me deeper and deeper in this steady current toward my climax.

 

"That's it, Zina. Good girl."

 

His words spur me on, sending bolts of lightning through my body. My own fingers rub my clit in fast circles, and it feels so good; it's a relief. Jared's hand rests over mine, but he isn't touching me. Instead, he grips my hip with one hand and grinds his erection against my backside.

 

Any thoughts about this being inappropriate are far away from here—outside of this moment and this dark hallway. Because right now, there's only one thing I want, and that's to come. I don't even care that it's in public anymore.

 

"You are so fucking beautiful. Make yourself come, baby."

 

And his words don't stop, like a river of praise I'm coursing down, heading straight for a cliff. My eyes don't leave the throne room for a second, and when my orgasm comes crashing into me, I nearly crumble to the floor. My free hand grips the fabric of Jared's suit as he wraps his arms around me.

 

"So perfect." His lips brush my ear, then my cheek, and trail down to my neck. I can't even hear anymore—my ears are ringing, and my skin is buzzing. The orgasm just keeps knocking me down, wave after wave after wave. His hand finds mine again, and I feel his fingers carefully brush my delicate skin. But he doesn't stop as he runs his fingers deeper into my panties, and I stiffen in his grasp when he reaches the evidence of my orgasm.

 

He moans darkly against my ear. Then, he pulls his wet finger out and lifts it to his mouth. I turn to look up at him just as he slips it past his lips, licking my arousal off of his finger.

 

"Jared," I whisper, and our eyes meet. It's a long, heavy moment as we let everything that just happened swim in the tension between us. Does he feel bad for crossing this line? Do I?

 

No, I don't. I keep waiting for shame to hit me, but it doesn't. Instead, I'm…excited. I feel like I'm on the edge of something big, and I don't want to turn back now.

 

The threesome in the throne room has come to an end, and when I look back at the window, one of the women is standing just on the other side of the glass. Her gaze catches mine for a moment, and I stare at her with my mouth open

 Then, she gives me a small wink and sly smile before pulling the curtain closed.