“What happened to your face?”
The question came from a tall man in a minotaur mask. Shirtless, his body and the uncovered half of his face gave his age away as somewhere in his late forties.
“My girl attacked me with a piece of glass after threatening to kill herself.”
The statement was incredulous enough to be both a lie and the truth.
He pursed his lips, nodding like that was sometimes how these things went.
“She got you pretty good,” he said.
Yeah, I’d noticed.
Her strike was too haphazard to leave a wound bad enough to need stitches, but she got me right above the mouth. The cut was still red and scabbed. Another mask choice might’ve hidden it, but oddly, I didn’t want to hide it. I wanted to show it off. Wear it like art.
If nothing else, I wanted to leave my mark on Emily. It was only fair if she returned the favor.
A tremor of discomfort rattled through my limbs thinking about her.
She’d needed three stitches in her palm after that episode with the broken glass. My men had to sedate her to tend to her wounds properly. Not something I wanted to do. I’d have rather stitched her myself, without sedative, without anything for the pain.
Just me and her, a needle and thread.
That would teach her to defy me.
But I couldn’t trust myself around her at that moment. Didn’t want to see her.
That moment… the brief second where I thought she might jump through the crack in those bars over her window… I’d felt…
I don’t know what I’d felt, but it wasn’t something I ever wanted to feel again.
The furniture and the window were no problem. The window was fixed the same day she broke it, and the chair would be back in a week, good as new. That wasn’t the point. She was trying to enrage me. To push me. To test my limits like a child.
She didn’t fucking quit. She was relentless.
“I deserved it,” I told the minotaur.
“Is she here?” he asked, looking around the crowded club, trying to find her amid the writhing bodies and tailored suits.
A possessive fire sparked in my chest. I bit my tongue, stopping my initial response before it came out.
No.
He couldn’t touch her.
No one else could touch her.
She was mine.
The thought of her in this place, with other men looking at her or worse, another man enjoying her filled me with animalistic rage.
I cleared my throat, remembering this particular client was one of my upper tiered members. A supreme court justice I needed to keep on my good side.
“She’s not here.”
I turned my attention back down to the scene on the first floor of the club. Bodies, semi-clothed and naked milled around the space, some wrapped up in each other already though the night was young.
The heady musk of debauchery lingered on the air. Masked couples, throuples, and more engaged in all kinds of play as the ambient thrum of music beat through the concealed speakers, peaked by the rhythm snap of a whip on tender skin somewhere deeper into the club.
“That’s too bad. Bring her next time.”
I didn’t say anything, lifting my nearly drained glass instead.
He took the hint, leaving with a nod.
Emily would be popular if I brought her here. New faces, women particularly always were. Some men got off on the idea of their woman’s sexual desirability to others. I wasn’t one of them.
Though, having been chained in her chambers for a couple of days now, I knew she’d be starved for activity. What would she make of my domain?
Tonight the crowd was a mixture of longtime members and a couple of recent additions. Plus ones couldn’t be first-timers, they had to be previously vetted visitors. After coming up with a list of possible high-risk attendants, I curated the guest list to narrow down possible suspects.
Some members, knowing about the breach had elected not to show up on their own. As of yet, nobody had canceled their membership and I wanted to keep it that way.
The loss of one or two members, even ten wouldn’t be the worst financial hit. The worst thing that was coming out of this no matter how fast it was resolved was the hit to our reputation.
Discretion was what our members paid for, more than even the experience. The black mark on our perfect record pissed me the fuck off.
I watched every passing individual below like they were a possible suspect. The club had been swept again, top to bottom for recording devices just before tonight’s opening. For our guest’s privacy, cameras inside the club were prohibited and I would only use them as a last resort, which meant my presence and the presence of several of my most trusted men was the only thing that might lead to finding the culprit, and stopping them before any more photos leaked online.
My thoughts coiled in on themselves with no end in sight. I gripped the ledge so tight, my knuckles turned white. My lips pressed together, tugging the scab from my skin, pulling my thoughts right back to Emily.
She had seen some of it now, the dark parts inside of me that sunlight never touched.
I was foolish to think I could strip back her layers without shedding some of my own.
An idea formed, and before I could change my mind, I exited the club. Two men guarded the door upstairs even though the house was virtually impenetrable.
“Have her dressed and brought to me.”
Silently, one of the men left.
Instead of going back to the club, I cut away, heading to my room.
The promise of her was so close, I could practically taste it. I picked a white and silver mask from my collection. Stylized to look like a crescent moon, it would cover her from her cheekbones up and curve down to cover half of her face, leaving her mouth free.
I clenched it in my grasp, gaze tracking to something else in the drawer. Grabbing it, I hurried downstairs to the foyer.
“I’m walking, get your hands off me,” I heard coming from the stairway.
Strange warmth filled my chest hearing her complaints.
She and the guard appeared in the foyer, his hand grasped around her arm while she obstinately tried to get away from him.
“I thought you’d be grateful for a little freedom.”
They both stopped. Shock crossed her face before it was replaced immediately with anger. Her narrowed eyes told me just how happy she was to see me, but curiosity lingered just beneath the surface of her stare as she took in the dark mask concealing most of my face, and the items in my fist.
“Whatever you brought me out for, you might as well take me back.”
Her stubborn chin and the obstinate set of her jaw would’ve set me off if she was anyone else. But this was her, and she infuriated me beyond fucking measure.
Forcing me to realize she’d become more than just a woman, just my captive.
We were eye-level, she and I.
When she met my gaze, she didn’t look away. She didn’t blink.
Most men didn’t have the balls she did.
I held the mask out to her.
“I’d like to show you something,” I said, putting away the urge to demand her to do as I bid in favor of a little test.
Her brow furrowed.
“Will you come?”
Her arms crossed, face blank like I was speaking Russian.
“I have a choice now?”
“Tonight you do.”
She seemed like she was mulling it over, her eyes going from the mask, back up to my face.
“If you’d prefer, I can have Josef return you to your chains.”
She gave Josef a dirty look, ignoring what I said to point at the mask in my hand.
“What’s that for?”
A slow smile spread across my face. I had her. I pushed the mask into her hands.
“Masks are mandatory. But clothing’s optional.”
“What is it you want to show me?”
I tsked her, wagging my finger back and forth. “You’ll ruin the surprise.”
With shaking hands she lifted the mask to her face and I stepped behind her, fastening the supple satin strands into place over the low bun knotted in her dark hair.
“Just one more thing.”
There was only one way to ensure no one else touched what was mine within the walls of Delirium.
I tugged the collar from my pocket, feeding the leather strap around her neck. She put her fingers to the choker, running them over it as I fastened it into place, and latched on the matching short leash.
“There. You’re perfect.”
Pushing the door open, I let her walk in first.
The darkened corridor concealed inner workings of the club from view, but I knew she could hear them. Their pain. Their pleasure.
She pulled gently against the leash, eager to see what she could only imagine from here.
As the corridor opened into the main atrium, I tugged her back against me, curling a hand over her shoulder to speak in her ear.
“Welcome to my wonderland.”
Emily gasped, walking as though through a dream into the space.
Her steps slowed as she took in the scene in the grand atrium. Writhing bodies on low leather couches. Mouths on pierced nipples. Whips and chains and collars and floggers.
Her gaze went to the airtight woman at the center, each of her holes filled by cock, her body used beyond measure.
My little lamb didn’t cower. She didn’t hide. I kept a couple of steps between us so I could gauge her response; see how she took it.
I had punished her more cruelly, showed her darker and more twisted than this, but my hackles were raised. I pushed her limits all the time, but this time, she was in control. Within these walls consent was paramount and I wouldn’t break the rules I forced each of my clients to follow.
In here, Emily could say no, she could say stop. She could push me away and I would let her.
My hands started to sweat. An uncharacteristic lump of anxiety forming in my throat wondering why the fuck I’d decided to bring her here.
She threw a glance in my direction.
“Where are we?”
“It’s my kingdom. Politicians, CEOs, athletes, priests, anyone with heavy pockets and something to lose; I provide them experience. Discretion.”
She looked over the room, her lips parted in perhaps in shock, perhaps wonder as she allowed me to lead her further into the hall.
Male gazes strayed from their night’s distractions, lingering on Emily just a little too long, hungry for fresh flesh.
I growled as we passed, sending each pair flying back to where they belonged.
“Mine,” I hissed, tightening my grip on Emily’s collar, my shoulders trembling with the injection of testosterone into every muscle.
Even in the plain robe she wore, barefoot, there wasn’t a woman in this room who held a candle to her and every one of them knew it.
I jerked her back.
I shouldn’t have brought her here.
“It’s time to leave.”
She spun, grabbing the cord of the leather leash in her hand, tugging it back. “No,” she protested. “I… I want to stay.”
The one cheek I could see for the covering of her mask flushed pink. She swallowed. “Show me,” she urged. “Show me more.”
I pried her fingers from the leash and she let me, not fighting back. Her breath caught as I trapped her hand in mine, running my thumb over her knuckles.
Was that lust in her green eyes?
My jaw tightened. I nodded, jerking my chin in the direction of the opposite corridor. “That way.”
Her head swung left and right, passing the semi-private rooms filled with writhing, naked bodies. Passing one, a line of masked men, five or six, stood around a table as another man plowed a woman in pink lingerie lying on her back. They were taking turns.
In another room, a woman screamed against the Saint Andrew’s Cross bolted to the wall, chained, her flesh pink from flogging, her juices running down her thighs as a man buried his face between her legs.
I led Emily up the stairs, coming to the mezzanine where she could look down from above. She put her hands on the railing, leaning over.
“What is this place?” she murmured just under her breath.
“Delirium,” I replied and she nodded to herself, as if that made perfect sense, before her gaze strayed to me, the silver of her mask making her eyes brighter than they had any right to be.
She was looking at me, not with confusion or fear for once, but with something more like curiosity. Or was it understanding?
“So what do you think?”
I had never cared so much about what anyone thought in my entire miserable fucking life.
I wanted her acceptance. Her approval.
Backed into a corner with no option but to say yes, she couldn’t refuse me. But here…
“I think it’s…” She trailed off, leaving me on the edge of a goddamned cliff.
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I think it is,” she admitted, her gaze falling back to the scene below. “I’ve never seen or experienced anything like this.”
“Most people haven’t.”
“Ruarc?”
I choked, my name coming from her lips enough to send a bolt of white hot flame straight through me. I wanted her to say it again.
And again.
“Yes?”
“Why haven’t you…”
I followed her gaze to the couple engaged in passionate sex on the long couch pushed to the far wall.
“Why haven’t I fucked you?” I guessed.
She nodded gravely.
My nostrils flared, unsure how to respond, because I would fuck her. And I really doubted she’d deny me whenever I decided to have her, but in here, she held the reins and I wouldn’t take them from her, not until I dragged her back through the door.
I’d wanted her to beg me for it, I still did, but maybe this would be better. If I could have her submit to me willingly, give herself to me openly, freely, I…
My cock thickened to a hard rod against my thigh just thinking of it.
“Within the walls of Delirium, all adults must be consenting. At the very least, they must sign a waiver for consensual non consent if that is the fantasy they wish to fulfill prior to entering.”
I let my words linger in the air between us, watching her reaction, the working of her jaw, the pinching of her brows.
“And you follow those rules? I mean, in here?”
The edge of spite was not missed in her words.
I gave her a nod.
“So if I tell you you can’t touch me…”
“I won’t touch you.”
“And if I ask you to touch me?”
My lips parted in surprise, meeting her intense stare. “Then I will touch you, little lamb.”
I wrapped the length of leash around my fist, reeling her in closer, but not touching her, not without her giving me the command.
“Are you asking?”
Her throat bobbed.
“I am.”
Without another second’s hesitation, I led her away from the mezzanine, down the gilded black corridor toward the rooms reserved for the most elite members.
We passed rooms filled with specialized gear and equipment, and one with a spinning table, all the way to the back. To the room not often reserved for its eye-watering fee of fifty-thousand a night.
Everything in the room was entirely replaced prior to the paying client entering. The furniture. The bedding. The chest full of every manner of toy, bondage, or accessory a person could desire.
Most clients requested special additions for this room, but as it stood, it was simple in its elegance, but not so simple that Emily didn’t audibly gasp as we pushed inside.
Lush in furs, silk, gold, and crystal, everything dripped with luxury.
The sandalwood and amber aroma diffusing into the air was a favorite scent of mine, and it seemed my little lamb was a fan, too, her pupils dilating as she breathed it in.
I shut the door behind us and crowded her against it, drawing her attention back to me. Her lips parted and I felt the sudden visceral need to taste them. I couldn’t remember the last time I kissed a woman, didn’t see the appeal… until now.
A hum, low in my stomach, had my upper lip curling back, guarding myself against the swell of foreign emotion.
Emily’s gaze traveled to my lips, her green eyes hungry but restrained, resistant to her own desire.
Did she hate herself for how I made her feel?
The bass-heavy music thrummed through the door, vibrating the warm wooden pane as I lifted her arm from her side, placing it over her head. With an award-worthy level of restraint, I ran the backs of my first two fingers down the length of her arm, to her neck, to the curve of her breast beneath her shirt. Her breathing hitched there and when I met her eyes a second time to find them still on my mouth, I gave in.
Curling my fingers around her neck, I drew her face to mine, crushing my lips to hers. I shuddered, groaning into her mouth as I kissed her. Emily let out a low whine, her fingers tangling in my hair, twisting. The pain awoke the beast sleeping deep within and I growled, prying her lips apart with my tongue, taking everything she was willing to give.
She opened for me, moaning wildly as I claimed her with my mouth, our frantic breaths mingling as heat like liquid fire charged through my blood.
Emily began unbuttoning my shirt and I gripped her wrists, breaking the kiss.
“On the bed,” I ordered. “Now.”
She nodded, such a good girl, and brushed past me, heading for the ornate mahogany four poster draped in swaths of lush burgundy fabric.
She sat on the edge of the bed as I popped my cufflinks and unbuttoned my shirt, taking it off along with my mask.
Emily did the same, removing her mask before sitting erect to marvel at my bare, muscled, tattooed skin as I drew nearer.
Coming up to the bed, I reached for her, lifting her hair out of the way in a clenched fist to unhook the collar around her neck and let it fall to the floor. Next, I hooked my fingers in the belt of her robe, tugging it free. She let me, lifting her hips to make it easier for me to pull it all the way off, revealing her perfect tits and nothing else save for a pair of silk panties.
She leaned back and I reached for them only to have her stop me, her hand roughly grabbing mine.
I flicked my gaze upward, my jaw clenching.
She knew I didn’t like to be told no. She also knew this was the one place in the entire world I would allow it. This was a test. Would I pass it?
I waited, and her grip loosened.
“Do I have your permission?” I asked, each word a bitter pill on my tongue.
“Permission to do what?”
“Anything and everything I want.”
The rapid rise and fall of her chest halted as she considered.
“Consensual non consent,” I reminded her. “If you give it, you’re mine. There is no ‘no.’ There is no ‘stop.’ If spoken, I won’t hear those words, do you understand?”
Please, I thought, a mixture of shock and disgust erupting at the silent plea. I didn’t beg. I didn’t plead. I took what I wanted.
But this once. For her…
Do not deny me, little lamb.
Do not deny yourself.
“You have it.”
My heart punched into my ribcage, sending a ricochet of primal desire racing through me, going straight to my cock.
“I need you to say it, Emily. The whole thing.”
She licked her lips, the fear in her eyes so vibrant I could almost taste it.
“You have my permission,” she elaborated. “To do anything and everything you want to do to me, no matter what I say. No matter what I do.”
I moved forward, ready to fucking pounce.
“But,” she added, the word a bullet in my gut. “I want all my furniture back. And my books. No, better books. I’ll make you a list.”
“Bargaining?”
She nodded astutely and a swell of pride grew in my chest.
“Done.”
A flash of terror brightened her wide eyes as I tore her panties from her flesh, tearing them to ribbons as I dragged the tatters from her legs and shoved her back onto the plush covers.
I hooked her left leg over my shoulder, going to my knees on the carpet. I jerked her forward, marveling as she opened for me like a flower.
“Ruarc!” she cried out as I descended on her, dragging my tongue wickedly over her clitoris, teasing her opening with my fingers before plunging them inside her, giving her no time to adjust.
She arched into my mouth, every one of her broken moans got me harder with every pulse, every roll of her hips as she fucked herself on my tongue.
Emily writhed and whined, giving herself over to me. In seconds she was panting, making wild grabs for the back of my head as her orgasm threatened.
She shattered, coming around my fingers, gushing on my tongue with a cry that echoed off the walls. She bucked and pulsed around my fingers before attempting to seal her legs closed from the stimulation. I forced her to remain open for me, continuing my assault until, compelling her to wring every drop of pleasure from the orgasm until she was shaking, begging me to stop.
I didn’t let up until her hot core unclenched, only then did I crawl over her on the bed, lifting her higher onto the pillows before wrenching her legs wider.
I covered her body with mine, sealing her parted lips with my own, swallowing her moan.
Feeling the press of my erection through my pants against her wet cunt, she flinched back, pressing herself into the mattress.
I pushed a hand beneath her lower hips, pulling her hips up to join mine with a growl, forcing her to feel how hard she made me.
I fisted her hair and jerked her head up, countering the hard gesture with a deep sensual kiss. Agitated moans started in her throat.
She had jagged edges, hard and rough like mine. That sting of pain intensified the pleasure. Made her feel it deeper, more keenly.
I parted our lips, hovering just the hair’s breadth away from her. Her eyes flickered open, searching mine for the reason why I stopped. I ran a finger down her neck dipping it into the notch at its base, then I enclosed it in my palm and clenched.
Her eyes turned to hot pools of lust.
I released her hip, snaking my hand between us to her clit, working her flesh in long, focused caresses, before firmly tapping it with my flattened fingers. She jerked at the sudden jolt.
Tightening my hand on her neck, I plunged two fingers into her. She moaned, bucking and riding as I finger fucked her. Just before her orgasm, I loosened my fingers, letting a deep inhale of oxygen into her lungs as it overcame her. She shuddered violently, her cunt convulsing around my fingers.
It was a marvel, watching her come undone for me. I’d never tire of it.
Her unfocused eyes blinked, long lashes batting against the ridge of her arched brows. Fuck.
I couldn’t wait. Not another fucking second.
The fierce urge to claim her seized my throat as I unbuckled my belt and snapped it free of the loops, tossing it to the floor. Emily helped me work my pants low enough to free my cock, her movements just as frantic as my own.
For the briefest moment, I considered a condom. I used one with every woman I’d ever fucked, but I couldn’t imagine purposefully putting anything between my cock and that sweet, sweet cunt.
My patience fully spent, I took her in one smooth thrust.
She cried out in surprise, and I cursed, her tight channel choking me. I couldn’t be slow. Withdrawing, I pistoned into her, grabbing her throat as I savaged her pussy. I grunted, her pulse pounding against my fingers as I fucked her. Her legs wrapped around me, keeping me close. She wanted this. Needed it.
Emily clawed at my arms and shoulders, desperately searching for something to hold onto as I gave her the ride of her fucking life. I bent, drawing one of her pebbled nipples into my mouth, keeping up the slaughtering pace between her thighs. I rolled her nipple over my tongue, again and again, flat and flick, flat and flick, corralling her to orgasm as rapidly as her gorgeous cunt was prodding me to mine.
When her moans turned short and her body began to clench around me, when her fingernails in my forearms were at the point of drawing blood, I bit her nipple, throwing her from the cliff she clung to.
She gushed on my cock and I roared, coming powerfully into her, milking myself dry in her pussy.
Our breaths came in heavy pants as I kept myself anchored in her pussy until every drop of me was deposited inside. Only then did I pull out, rolling onto the bed next to her, sated, but not for long. Already, I was ravenous to have her again.
Unconsciously, I found myself reaching for her, wrapping a possessive hand around the top of her thigh, caressing her warm skin.
She turned to me, watching me with guarded emotion in her eyes as she ran her fingertips over the ink on my chest, and up my neck, to my jaw, my lips. She gently touched the scab forming there. The one she gave me.
“I’m sorry about this, by the way,” she said.
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re right,” she said, her lips quirking up on one side in a cheeky smirk. “I’m not.”
