It’s the same sharpness I see in the mirror every goddamn day.
“Honesty, huh?” I take another sip of the drink, letting the bubbles burst on my tongue. “All right then, Vince. Let’s see how honest you can be.”
His grin widens, and I catch a flash of teeth behind his parted lips. “It would be my absolute pleasure, Clara.”
Oh, I just bet it would. But as intriguing as Vincent may be, he’s not the one I’m looking for tonight.
No, my sights are set on someone else, someone darker and more dangerous. The man with the piercing eyes and wicked smile, the one who set my blood on fire with a single glance.
Vincent leans in, a playful spark in his green eyes, undeterred by my cool demeanor. “I’m a regular here, you know. Maybe I can show you around, or we can just skip the tour and get straight to the fun parts.”
I study him closer now, noting the youthful sharpness of his jaw and the earnest gleam in his eyes. He’s attractive, sure, but too fresh, too eager—like a puppy. Not my style. I need someone with a bit more grit, a bit more darkness in their soul.
Just relax. You’re here to have fun, get some orgasms.
I take another swig of champagne.
“Sorry to break your heart, Vincent, but I prefer my men older.” I wink at him as I get onto my feet.
I stand up, wobbling slightly on my stilettos, champagne buzzing through my veins. Suddenly, a strong hand grabs me possessively by the waist. I spin around, ready to tell whatever asshole it is to fuck off, but I find myself staring into Aston’s piercing eyes.
His signature smile is plastered on his cruel, gorgeous face, but there’s a calculating gleam in his gaze that makes my skin tingle. He turns his attention to Vincent, who looks like he wants to protest.
“Run along now, boy,” Aston commands, his voice dripping with disdain. “The lady’s with me.”
Vincent opens his mouth, but something in Aston’s expression makes him think better of it. He slinks away with his tail between his legs.
Fucking puppy.
I sway on my feet, the alcohol hitting me harder than I anticipated. Aston’s grip tightens on my waist, steadying me. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.
“Careful, princess. Wouldn’t want you to fall.”
I scoff and try to pull away, but his hold is iron-clad. “I’m fine. I just need some goddamn peace and quiet.”
Aston chuckles darkly. “Oh, I think I have just the place.” He snaps his fingers and a door I hadn’t noticed before swings open, revealing a dimly lit hallway. “Your VIP room awaits.”
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I drawl, letting him guide me toward the door.
As we stride down the corridor, two hulking bodyguards flanking us like shadows, I can’t help but notice the sounds emanating from behind each door we pass. Muffled moans and pleasured cries mix with the rhythmic slapping of flesh against flesh, painting a vivid picture in my champagne-soaked mind.
“These are the private rooms,” Aston explains, his hand still firmly gripping my waist. “Where our guests can explore their deepest, darkest desires without judgment.”
I catch a glimpse of the stoic security personnel lining the hallway, their muscular arms crossed over broad chests, earpieces in place. They look like they’ve been plucked straight from a fucking action movie, all buzz cuts and dark shades. It’s clear they’re here to enforce the rules, to make sure no one crosses the line from pleasure to pain without consent.
As we continue down the hallway, the cacophony of carnal sounds grows louder, more intense. The harsh crack of a whip, followed by a sharp, breathy cry, sends a jolt straight to my core. My cunt clenches, desperate for friction, for relief. Beneath the snap of leather on skin, I can hear the obscene squelch of a hard cock pistoning in and out of a soaked pussy, the lurid slap of heavy balls against slick flesh.
My cheeks burn, arousal warring with shock. I can’t lie; it’s getting me hot. My panties are soaked; my poor cunt is dying for a release only a big, hard cock satisfy.
Aston just smirks, unfazed. “Like what you hear?”
“No comment,” I snap. But the sounds are seared into my brain now. I have a feeling they’ll be fueling my fantasies for a while.
We reach a set of golden doors at the end of the hall, emblazoned with intricate filigree. Aston nods at the guards, and they push the doors open, revealing the most decadent room I’ve ever seen.
Mirrors cover every inch of the ceiling, reflecting the massive bed in the center, draped in sheets of black silk. Sex toys and BDSM gear line the walls, gleaming in the low light. It’s like a fucking sex dungeon for the rich and depraved.
“Quite the setup you’ve got here,” I remark, trying to sound unimpressed even as my pussy throbs insistently.
