My Soulmates are IDOLS Books 2+3 | 18+ [SoulBond Series]

273:me

Strobe lights swept over the floor, darting over corners that were drenched with a mist of glittering smoke. But with the lights came flickers of gyrating silhouettes. It revealed the clusters of people unclothed except for the mask perched upon their faces, fucking to a sensual beat that throbbed sticky in the air.

But beyond the performative exhibitionists preening under the eyes of all, were the shackled and whipped, the roped and tied, all in an extravagant cage-like display as their masters controlled their pleasure with a drip of a candle and a dance of a feather. Their moans were muffled by the music that sang, soft and hypnotic and the drum of a beat that seemed to pound to a timing suitable for fucking. But despite the harmony of sounds, Amber felt as if she could hear the panted breaths and strangled moans singing in the air.

Sex unrepressed, true selves set free, naked bodies straight from the heart of nature.

"It's strange," she whispered, fingertips pressed against the cool metal railing as her skin buzzed with gooseflesh. It kept her sane, the protection of metal, a barrier that separated her from the truth that was displayed before her eyes. She didn't know how to process the nudity displayed before her, let alone the things that Casper was trying to tell her. She blinked, begging for her mind to calm down and her heart to stop racing like a horse galloping through the fields.

"Filthy?"

"So, so wrong," she murmured. "In our society? Even worst, it's blasphemy—"

"It's the restrictive ones that have the dirtiest secrets. Within the heads of the silenced, lie sacrilege." Casper purred, voice dripping into a raw, husky groan. "The more they try to take you away from sin, the more you want to swallow it." He turned to look at her, eyes drifting into a muddy brown as more cryptic words spilt from tightly sewn lips. "In here, we are all free." He raised his hand to her, and for once his expression grew hard. "As long as you trust me."

"I do," she agreed easily.

She took his hand and he pulled her onto his lap where she perched on thick thighs, pressed tight to his body. The hug engulfed her in his scent, drowning her in wafts of musky frosted mint that calmed her frazzled mind. Her senses tingled when his lips drifted over her neck, kissing her softly once and twice, an action that soothed the tumble of nerves. The squeak that threatened to spill from her throat was lodged in her belly when he twisted them both towards the view his voice rumbling out from his throat, low and sexy as always.

"I've never told anyone about this side of me, I've never admitted it even to myself," he murmured, a hand splayed on her thigh. It stroked her, palming her flesh, dragging tightly up to the inner sensitive flesh. And her body heaved, clit jerking at his touch. His touch sought her arousal, and his eyes promised more. "Your soulmates didn't know, but I'm sure they had their guesses when they first saw the studs in my cock. But you know how I'm like, I can laugh it off and pretend I just decided it on the whim."

His words removed her from the situation, and for a moment she didn't see the handsome, sexy stranger that held her, but her clumsy, sweet soulmate. Her lips spread and her fear stilled as she turned to look up at him, leaning her head back against his chest.

"They would believe you if you said that you accidentally stumbled into a shop and stabbed your dick on a piercing," she giggled back in response and he squeezed her; an irritated groan escaping his lips. The soft exhale was a little too close to her ear for comfort, and it tickled the nape of her neck igniting a surge of heat through her body. She tried to hide the things it did to her pussy, shifting on his laps pretending to get comfortable.

"Right, grew awkward when I came home with more, but they didn't comment because we all had our ways to cope when you were still sick," Casper chuckled, tickling her gently. "I used to hate piercings; cousins called me a pussy for wearing them. Family hated it. They didn't like my profession, they didn't like my decisions, they didn't like me." His voice was sombre at his own words, lips curling into one of disgust. "But I bowed down to them, I made them happy but not me, never me."

Amber frowned, mind trying to absorb the information. "They control you?"

"They do, and they will try to sink their fangs into your throat when you meet them. They will demean you. They will curse your existence, dissect your every being and call you scum just because your net worth isn't more than pieces of fabric in their wardrobe from last season's fashion." He hissed out, knuckles white on the handles of the seat. "They won't understand our love."

"Don't worry," she soothed. "I won't take their words to heart, I promise." He smiled at her then, a genuine grin that came from the depths of his soul. A soft upward tilt of lips that displayed his trust and love for her. He sighed, scooping her tighter into his embrace to whisper into her ear.

"Oh baby," he groaned letting out a little sweetness into his voice. "I used to dream of softness and family. But I'm a fucking loser who'd only recently discovered he wants more. I didn't mean to push you away, but watching you in bed?" He exhaled, breathy and hot as he groaned, leaning his cheek on her shoulder. His eyes, when they met hers, glowed in the dark like a cat's, hypnotizingly gold. "It made me face the truth of my fucking situation."

"You could have told me." What was he into? BDSM? But what was he? A sub, a dom? A masochist, a sadist? What was he in the spectrum of Master and Slave? Amber couldn't tell as she scrutinized him, but her chest tightened when he chuckled.

"It was hard not to, and it was just as hard to tell you," he muttered, then he snorted, distracted by what he saw in the depths of sin. She looked at him quizzingly, and he gestured. "Look over there, to the left, on the stage."

Amber squinted through the darkness, her eyes searching for what he was talking about. Her breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of spotlights beating down onto the stage. Shadows shifted and a man loomed, stepping up onto the stage. The crowd seemed pleased, the murmurings growing loud enough for their voices to be heard through the music. And Amber swore that the beat was softened as he moved forward, body rippling with muscle as he stroked a whip tight upon the stage. The resounding crack had a gasp flooding from her throat.

Fuck.

"Imagine, my love. Imagine if he were me." 

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