"We will graciously accept Mogilevich's hospitality-" Thomas paused at a chuckle quickly turned into a cough from that idiot Fassell in the backseat, then calmly continued, "-for an appropriate amount of time, then we shall leave." He was turning into a brightly lit parking lot and when Lauren caught the name on the sign her blood turned to ice.
"He's taking us to a STRIP CLUB?" Lauren wasn't a prude,The last few days certainly burned, salted and scorched the earth ofthattheory,snarked her spiteful inner voice, but the concept of having to spend an evening with an overpriced drink and her husband staring at naked women with likely much, much better bodies than hers was the last possible thing she would have expected Thomas to ever make her do.
Clara was clearly of the same mind, "Michael? I don't want to go in there." Her voice was shaky and it made Lauren twinge internally.
Number Three was all that was soothing, "Baby, I'm sorry. I know this is a little, uh, off, but we'll just have a drink and leave, all right?" There was silence in the back seat, and Michael tried again. "Where's your sense of adventure? One to check off the bucket list?"
Turning back to Thomas, Lauren was alarmed to see the tight set to his jaw didn't soften. Steeling herself, she asked, "Could you at least let me drive Clara home? We could wait at your house- I mean our hou-"
"No."
Her cold husband exited the car, moving gracefully around it to cut off the valet as he attempted to open the passenger door. Leaning in to offer his hand to Lauren, he kept it steady as she stared at it. She knew this was the Russian's idea, not Thomas's. But why would he allow something so disrespectful to her and the other wives? A low growl disguised as clearing his throat made her realize she was taking too long, and with a sigh, the girl swung her legs out and attempted to rise from the low-slung sports car as gracefully as possible. Sliding his arm around her waist, Thomas leaned in close. "This is a common Bratva move," he murmured so quietly that she could barely hear him over the street noise. "They like to test new business relationships under the guise of 'hospitality,' and unless this endangers you in some way, we are required to go through with it." His grip tightened around her waist, but Lauren knew it was from fury at their host, not her. "So, you will be my gracious bride and handle this with some sophistication. Have you ever been to a gentleman's club before?"
Snorting at the dignified euphemism, she shook her blonde head. "No."
The first tinge of humor entered his deep voice as Thomas answered her, "I didn't think so. You've seen naked women before. Other than that, it's a standard bar. Try to be a little bored, polite, but not shocked. He would enjoy that."
Lauren tried to tell herself it was the blast of air conditioning from the front door opening that made her shudder, but she knew better. Looking back, she watched an uncomfortable-looking Clara being more or less dragged along by Number Three, who was eagerly looking around. Rolling her eyes, Lauren gave her friend what she hoped was a reassuring smile. Number One and their vile host were striding a bit ahead of the others, their bodyguards surrounding them and Arabella left walking behind, forgotten. Lauren reached out to link her arm with the older woman's, and Arabella gave her a grateful smile. The VIP lounge was suitably beautiful, secluded and filled with expensive furniture and a private bar. Lauren was actually grateful for the harsh vodka shot they were all demanded to drink, and for the one after. She tried to focus only on their little group, but there was no getting around the completely naked women,Except for those clear Lucite heels,she thought,why those see-through shoes? Why?Who were hovering over the men, offering a shoulder massage or another drink. When a stacked redhead started slinking up to Thomas, she fixed her with a glare that should have turned the waitress to stone, but the redhead was made of stronger stuff.She probably has plenty of experience with pissed-off dates,Lauren snarled internally. However, Thomas looked up briefly as the waitress/geisha/whatever started cooing and impatiently waved her off mid-sentence. He did notice his bride smiled a bit malevolently and put her hand on his thigh. As the men drew into a deeper discussion, The Corporation spouses found themselves focusing on each other. Only Arabella looked around comfortably, long legs crossed and arms stretched across the back of the sofa, drink in hand.
"Ah, see there?" Arabella said, gesturing with her drink, "I was considering that girl's tits. Perfect!"
Unwittingly, Lauren and Clara turned to look at a voluptuous girl with lovely milk chocolate-colored skin and magnificently full breasts. Gaze going to Arabella's chest, Lauren laughed. "I think you got them, 'Bella." All three began to giggle, feeling less awkward. Looking around, Lauren didn't see anything particularly shocking. She thought strippers wore those- the things for the nipples? Oh, pasties and a G-string- but she wasn't seeing anything she didn't see in the dressing room at the "Y" where she used to take yoga. It was the men at the club that made her uncomfortable, the things they were shouting, how they spoke to the girls. Taking a healthy swallow of her wine, she let herself relax a little. She could do this.
"??? ???? ?????. ????? ??? ????."("It's your choice. Whore or wife.") Feeling like she'd just been punched in the stomach, Lauren's gaze flew back to the knot of expensively suited men. For some reason, the head of Bratva was looking at her as he said the ugly words.
What the hell- what could that possibly mean?she fumed internally, trying not to let her rising fury show on her face. This dickhead must not knowsheknew what he just said. After a few more moments of discussion, Number One stood up and buttoned his jacket, nodding at one of the blondes, who came forward to take his arm and lead him away. He didn't look at his wife as he left, and Arabella pretended not to notice. Thomas rose as well, holding out his hand to Lauren with the same cold expression he'd worn that night in his office when he told her she'd be marrying him, one way or another. It was the face of a man who would order another to be shot right in front of her. Her father, in fact. So, without a single word, she put her ice-cold hand in his and rose stiffly. Following him down a hallway, she didn't speak until a smirking "hostess" opened a door and Thomas abruptly ushered her into a blandly furnished room, a bit like a medium level hotel room, though instead of prints of landscapes, there was glossy framed porn.
"What is-"
He abruptly moved her a bit to the left and cut off her question with a harsh kiss. Pulling out his phone, he pushed a button and scanned the room.
"Not a word," Thomas breathed into her ear, ignoring the way Lauren was beginning to shake. "This room is wired for sound, no cameras. We're in here to fuck." Anticipating her sudden attempt to get loose, he pushed his struggling bride harder against the wall. "Listen to me," he enunciated coldly, "our host insists that we accept the hospitality of the club: which means making use of a woman before we leave."
"I'm n-not a whore," Lauren gritted out, trying to be quiet and choke down the scream of rage building in her throat.
Thomas growled slightly, "It's either you or a club whore. Which do you prefer I fuck?"
She wanted to throw up. She wanted to run screaming from the room. She wanted to crack that fucking bottle of vodka over that bastard Mogilevich’s head. But Lauren made her numb lips move. "You want to have sex with me while they... while they listen to us?" To her humiliation, there was a sob at the end of her whisper.
Feeling his big, warm body sigh, she drew in a breath as he leaned back a bit. "We have to do this. Can you keep quiet?"
"I don't want to do this," Lauren hissed, a little childishly. "Who the fuck has todoshit like this? What the hell kind of fucked-up corporate retreatwasthis?"
Thomas's voice dipped, lowering into that soothing, persuasive tone that always made her capitulate. "I know, baby. As your Sir, I would not ask this of you unless I thought you were ready. But as your husband, I must insist. Be a good girl, quiet and sweet and we'll get this over with." He didn't wait for her agreement, simply unzipping her dress and pushing it off of her, pausing to appreciate the lacy black bustier (thank you, Hen Party) and matching undies. Rough fingertips slipped over the skin of her thighs as he deliberately stepped on her dress, marking it as he pulled off his jacket. "Loosen my tie." His voice was louder this time, easily overhead. Brow furrowed, Lauren did as she was told and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as Thomas pulled his belt loose and unzipped his trousers. "Take me out," he ordered, and pressing her lips tighter, his bride did, unconsciously stroking its generous length once, twice, before realizing what she was doing and pulled her hand away like his dick was on fire. Chuckling smugly, Thomas drew his hands to her ass and squeezed, suddenly hoisting her up as Lauren gave an undignified yelp before gritting her teeth again.
Her thighs tightened harshly against his waist as her dark husband began sliding her down, beginning to impale her until Lauren stiffened and gave a tight-lipped whimper of discomfort.Of course,Thomas thought,dry as the Sahara and no surprise.Balancing her with his hips and one hand, he raised his other palm and spat into it, watching her look of shock at the crude gesture and the flaming red of her cheeks as he smeared it on the head of his cock. The girl made an abortive effort to move away, but his grip tightened and he began thrusting again, slower and more gentle than usual. Thomas's angry grip on her ass spoke otherwise, but Lauren knew he was trying to not hurt her.
"Relax," he murmured in her ear.
"I can't," Lauren gulped, "I hate this. I don't want to be here."
Those lean hips of his began moving against her, smoothly, persuasively swirling and rubbing against all those secret spots he'd found inside her. "I know," his voice was sin, deep and just barely loud enough to understand him. "Picture instead some shadowy hallway at a club, where we've been dancing. Do you remember that night on the dance floor? The first night we-"
"The 'No Diggity' night," Lauren agreed without thinking. She heard Thomas choke back a laugh and cringed.
Picking up the thread again, he purred, "We can't wait to have each other, you want me fucking up into you right then. My good girl turned naughty." He felt her bite into his shirt to stay quiet and his hips moved faster. "So I take you by the hand and we find a quiet place like this, those clever hands of yours unzipping me while I grab the back of your thighs, just like this-" Her savage little teeth werereallydigging into the muscle of his shoulder, but Thomas let it go, smugly pleased to feel shoving into his wife was turning into a delicious glide, her sudden slick smoothing his path and letting him push into her higher. "It's quick and greedy, both of us needing the other too much. The heels on your shoes digging into my back rather uncomfortably..."
To her embarrassment, Lauren realized he was right, but it was from anxiety, not arousal. Thomas was hoisting her up and down on his cock, it was inelegant, messy, and vaguely humiliating, but she was aroused enough from his filthy narrative that it didn't hurt as much as when he first entered her. Removing her teeth from his shoulder, she finally managed to whisper, "Please just... you know, just finish, okay? I can't... here. I'm sorry." Her scary husband merely kissed her and with a few more hard thrusts, came inside her, his knees buckling just slightly before pulling from her gently and pressing the pocket square from his jacket over her wet center. Lauren felt for her underwear and found they'd been torn.Great,she thought bleakly,perfect.Quickly tucking himself away and zipping up, Thomas bent for her dress and helped her into it. Lauren looked at its rumpled appearance and knew it was meant to show off what they'd been doing. Extra proof, or something. She'd never thought sex with Thomas was anything other than amazing, wonderful, delicious. But now Number Two's new bride felt... disgusting.
