So many questions. So little time. And knowing Nova, she’d laugh in my face before giving me a straight answer.
The man next to me purred in my ear, “Interesting.”
Oh yes, Mr. Kingsley, but it’s about to get even more interesting.
Tugging him forward, we stepped into a wide, shadow-drenched space. The only illumination came from the vulgar, seductive neon signs on the walls, their crimson glow casting a sin-soaked haze over the space in front of them. A few large lights hung fromthe ceiling, most aimed at the stage looming at the far end of the room.
?*The air was thick with the sweet, tantalizing aroma of sex, laced with a spicy undertone that curled through my nostrils and lit a fire in my blood. I glanced at him just in time to catch the way he inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he was savoring it. Licking my lips, I wondered what smell had hit him so hard.
When I first envisioned this place, I borrowed from my casino upbringing. I wanted a space that thrilled you the second you stepped inside—not with flashing lights or ringing slot machines, but with something more primal: scent.
Luckily, I had a tech-genius brother with a knack for blending magic and machinery. He designed a device that infused the room with personalized aromas, so each guest breathed in the one scent that excited them most. No two visitors smelled the same thing. This room was the threshold, the break from reality, the beginning of indulgence.
Spreading my arms wide, I twirled and walked backward, watching his roaming eyes drink it all in.
“This is the first level of the Winged Palace,” I said, smiling. “We call it the Fountain of Desire.”
Gripping his hand, I guided him through the maze of couches, ottomans, and lounging clusters. Music played in the background while shadowed, sinuous bodies in white masks moaned and contorted on every surface.
Everyone in the room was in a state of undress that suited their pleasure. Some fully clothed, content just to watch, while others were dressed in sultry lingerie or elaborate costumes. Many werecompletely bare, as if shame had no place here. At the Winged Palace, every kind of desire was welcomed.
He tugged gently at my hand, halting me beside a trio of fairies. One caressed another’s wings while rhythmically thrusting into the mouth of a third. I watched him instead, and despite the scene unfolding beside us, his gaze was pinned entirely on me. The attention made my heart stutter.
His hand rose slowly, fingering the white mask covering his face. “And these masks?”
I took his hand and pressed it to my cheek, letting my skin linger against his palm before casting him a sultry glance. “They're for your protection.”
His eyes gleamed with sudden interest, and I turned slightly, gesturing to the fairy now having her pussy devoured by a kneeling lover. “The X means look but don’t touch… unless invited.”
Spinning on my heel, I pointed to a vampire draped across a velvet settee, their mask marked with a blood-red drop. “Those indicate an interest in blood play. If the drop has a circle around it, it means you consent to having your blood taken, anywhere, by anyone.”
I drifted closer, letting the warmth of my body press against his as my hand glided up his chest—slow, deliberate—fingertips tracing over muscle and fabric. My eyes stayed on his as I licked my lips, then toyed with the bold black X on his mask.
“This one,” I murmured, voice soft and low, “tells everyone you’re just here to watch.”
My finger slipped beneath the edge of his mask, stroking the sharp line of his jaw. His muscles tensed beneath my touch, his restraint humming just under the surface.
I pulled back with a knowing smile, the absence of my touch just as intentional as the caress itself.
Teasing was an art form, a delicate dance of want and need. Knowing how far to go, to tempt without yielding, to bring someone to the edge and hold them there. To be wanted so fiercely but never seized—not until I wished it so. That was the game I craved most.
“You’ll receive a packet once you sign up. It includes all the mask types and customization options. One mask of your choice is included in the membership fee, but you’re free to purchase more if you'd like. Everything will be waiting in your numbered locker.” I winked at him. “It helps us keep things organized.”
I turned smoothly, guiding us along the main tour path, away from the tangle of bodies and past the stage—mystage.
“Up here,” I said, gesturing with a soft sweep of my hand, “we host themed nights and special performances. You'll be notified through a monthly newsletter as some of these nights have capacity limits. The newsletter is encrypted, with a one-time-use password to make sure it can’t be forwarded or shared. We value our privacy here.”
“I heard,” he said, his low voice meant only for me, “you have a spot on that stage…”
Leaning back into him, my hand resting lightly on his upper thigh, I gave him a slow, sinful smile.
“I didn’t know I’d become the subject of gossip.”Lie.
“But I do have a small spot.”Another lie.
“When the mood strikes me.”Big, fat lie.
“And sometimes…” I turned in the air, wings snapping wide with practiced flair as I hovered over his shoulder, voice a whisper against his ear, “…I invite a lucky member on stage.”
