LENA

“Beg for it, little sis,” Marcus’s voice sliced through the haze of moans and murmurs filling the lounge. He stood close enough that I could smell his cologne mixed with raw arousal, but far enough that everyone knew he was in control. “Tell the room how much your stepbrother’s whore loves being their public fucktoy.”

I was already trembling on the bench, wrists and ankles locked wide, my body a canvas of cooling red wax and flushed skin. My spread pussy throbbed obscenely, dripping onto the leather below me. The nipple clamps bit harder with every ragged breath. “Please… Sir… I need it,” I gasped, voice breaking. “Use your...