I was now marked in three places—Hellen's possessive bite on my neck, Reyes' deeper claim on my inner thighs, Ivory's fresh one nestled in my cleavage. Honestly, I felt weird and happy at the same time, a dizzying mix of vulnerability and bliss.
The marks tingled whenever I thought about them, sending warm flushes through my skin. Now it was Ana's turn.
Unlike the others at home, this happened in a five-star hotel suite—plush king bed, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline, champagne chilling on ice.
I sat perched on a velvet stool in nothing but my lacy black underwear, blindfolded with a silk scarf, hands tied loosely behind my back with soft ribbons that allowed just enough wiggle to tease.
The air hummed with anticipation, Ana's desert sage scent wrapping around me like a wild embrace. I heard the soft scratch of charcoal on canvas nearby.
