Claimed by Stacey Kennedy Page B

there, but her blood turned to ice. “I can’t do this,” she snapped to herself.
    She scanned the room, looking for the door she’d entered through, and it seemed to have disappeared. Rushing past the couches in the center of the room, she noticed a couple of men sitting on them with women tucked in to their sides, laughing about something Presley couldn’t hear. She glanced to her right and spotted the fridge and the lockers, so, based on what she remembered, the exit had to be on the other side.
    Without a hitch to her step, she made a beeline for the door but noted a crowd had gathered in the far left corner. When she reached the group, she stopped dead in her tracks, hoping—praying—that she was imagining the view before her. But there wasn’t a hope in hell that her mind could conjure something like this.
    Cora had been gagged with a red ball in her mouth and a leather strap around her head, and she was totally wrapped up in ropes. Her back was against the stone wall, her legs were spread wide open, and her vagina was on full display. On her chest, held tight with the rope, was a note that read, SPANK ME.
    Heaviness formed in Presley’s stomach, and as Doms one by one walked up to Cora and walloped her with the flat of their hands, her stomach churned in fear. Some hit along Cora’s thighs, a couple right on her calves, and a few lifted her up and hit her bottom.
    Cora flinched against the rope holding her hostage. She was drenched in sweat, and her normally perfect hair stuck to her forehead. Tears filled Presley’s eyes as she noticed that Cora’s cheeks were bright red and her limbs trembled.
    A sudden warm hand spread across Presley’s back, and she started, shoving the hand off. “Don’t touch me.”
    Master Dmitri frowned. “Let’s try that again.”
    With gentle but reassuring hands, he turned her around, then he pressed his hand on her lower back. Heat burned from his touch to travel up her spine. Oddly enough, the sheer force of the sizzle spread like wildfire across her body and settled the race of her heartbeat, easing her panic. She stared up into his face, and the strength of his gaze comforted her.
    He smiled softly. “That’s a better way to greet someone.” He gestured to Cora. “Does this scene bother you?”
    Presley wrapped her arms around herself, not wanting to look at Cora again. “It’s horrible.”
    “Is it?” Master Dmitri stepped in behind her, placing his hands on her hips, and her tight muscles loosened, which was odd. Shouldn’t she be tense in his arms, not melting like warm chocolate drizzled over strawberries?
    He pushed her forward with his thighs, forcing her toward Cora. “Look at her face, doll.”
    Presley studied her friend—even if she’d rather not—and caught sight of Cora’s hooded eyelids. Her lips around the gag were relaxed, not struggling. Cora sucked in shallow breaths through her nose, as if she could hardly contain herself. “She doesn’t seem to mind this.”
    He wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his mouth next to her ear. “It appears that Cora has a fondness for being restrained in public and spanked by many hands, as you can see.” He nudged her head to the right with his cheek. “Look over there. Do you see Master Aidan watching to make sure she’s all right?”
    Master Aidan, who sat on a stool a bit away from Cora, had his shadowy eyes transfixed on her. “Yes, I do see.” Cora was fine, even more than fine. She looked ready to erupt into an orgasm.
    “This scene is for her .” Master Dmitri closed in on Presley’s back, his erection pressing against her bottom, causing her to swallow hard. “Because she likes it. Do you understand?”
    Remembering how to address a Dom in the dungeon, Presley responded, “Yes, sir.”
    “Nicely done, doll,” he murmured, running one large hand over her abdomen. “Now you understand the point of setting your limits.”
    She snorted a laugh. “ Yeah, got it—know your