I wanted to examine every little detail, every act in the ring. It was as if there were scenes from all of my most erotic dreams. I wished I had ten sets of eyes! Or that I could record this.

Every lash across upthrust br**sts made my own swell against my bustier. When the trapeze woman began screaming her way to ecstasy, bucking against that man’s mouth, my panties grew wet.

Without dragging my gaze away, I said, “There are other rooms like this?” I’d noticed all the walls surrounding the orgy were mirrored.

“There are six total.”

“You told me you’ve been here before. Were you down there?”

“On occasion.”

One woman was tied backward over what looked like a huge barrel. Men lined up to use her mouth, while others took turns licking her. She seemed starving for more.

Had Sevastyan been one among those men?

Just as jealousy flared, he pulled me into his lap, curling his finger under my chin so I’d face him. “And I hungered to be where I am now. With a woman in my keeping. I’d wager most of them in the ring would envy us our position.”

“You’d want a single woman over all those beauties?” The closest one to us was model fine, on her hands and knees and spitted by two men—a shaft in her mouth and another between her legs. They were railing the hell out of her, to her blatant delight.

Sevastyan said, “Considering that you are the woman in question, yes.”

Smooth. “Do you want us to be down there now?”

“I told you. I learned very early not to share. No one else touches what’s mine.” His gaze flicked over my face. “Can you handle this?”

Did he think I’d beg off? “Since they can’t see in, it’s like watching  p**n . Which I excel at. So all good here.”

He dragged me against his chest. Once I’d settled comfortably on his lap, he handed my glass back to me.

Sipping champagne and watching unabashed sex while his scent permeated my mind.

In fact, all of my senses were heightened. There was music, even laughter, but the rest of the sounds were erotic. Moans, groans, and rampant screams. Crackling leather, clanking chains, and snapping floggers.

Against my ass, I could feel Sevastyan’s heavy c**k like a red-hot brand. I found myself squirming against it, rubbing my thong against my wet labia.

Even the bubbling champagne tickled my tongue. I imagined pouring it down his body and licking him clean. . . .

Yet aside from all I was seeing and feeling, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Sevastyan had chosen me to bring here, had purchased this room with me in mind. The idea of him taking such care to get every detail right moved me.

He truly was trying for us.

I finished my champagne, vaguely aware that he took the flute from me.

Then his hand wandered up the slit of my gown, which had ridden up well above the top of my thigh-high. “Spread your legs as much as you can.”

Never looking away from the spectacle, I did, bending one knee over his legs. I wanted my thighs wider; I wanted to be rid of this confining dress. I needed his skin against mine, as much as I needed to see everything happening in the ring—every new knot, kiss, whipping, and release. My gaze bounced from one scene to the next.

“You can’t even decide where you want to look,” Sevastyan observed with dark amusement as he used his forefinger to draw lazy circles on my inner thigh. “And your heart’s racing.”

The champagne and wine I’d consumed, combined with my constricting bustier, were making me light-headed. My breaths were shallow, br**sts quivering above my bodice.

They must have attracted his attention—with his other hand, he began to draw those same circles over the tops of my br**sts. Then came an electric shock. Part of my areola was peeking out above the bustline of the gown, and he was lightly scraping his nail over it.

If he kept this up, I’d probably orgasm. “Sevastyan, before I forget . . . no matter what happens, I want to thank you for bringing me here.”

“You thank me? What does my taking you here say about me, Natalya? To win a woman, I am willing to defile her?”

“Defile?” My tone was incredulous as I regarded a couple at the far right of the ring. The man was tied down to a spanking bench while a woman in thigh-high boots caned him. His skin was sweating, muscles straining, expression ecstatic. “This is one of the most glorious things I’ve ever witnessed.”

Sevastyan followed my gaze, then frowned as if we couldn’t be looking at the same thing. “You consider this so?”

“Without a doubt.” There was pageantry all around. Between participants, there was ceremony.

He reached my thong and found it soaked, a groan reverberating in his chest. “What are you enjoying most?” he rasped. “The men? The women?”

“Both.” When I’d watched same-sex couples online, it’d always been crazy hot. But tonight?

Mercy.

I admired one pairing toward the back of the ring. Two unclothed women were sixty-nining, so caught up in each other they were oblivious to the sex all around them. The top one had luscious ebony skin and the bottom one was even paler than I was. The tableaux they presented was so surreal, I didn’t think I’d forget such a divine sight for the rest of my life.

Once I could finally break my stare, I found Sevastyan studying my expression. Determining what turned me on?

“You’re not going to watch?” I asked.

“I’m looking at what arouses me most.” He regarded me with such intensity that I had to avert my gaze.