For members who like the idea of never knowing who they’re fucking—and where a mask just isn’t enough to create that unknown—we have special kink rooms to cater to this experience. The Black-Out Maze, where it’s pitch black, or the Blindfold Room, where the participant wears a blindfold and has no idea who’s coming in to fuck them.
But our other members go feral for Masked Night. I, myself, enjoy letting body chemistry and pure animal attraction lead the way. Having no idea who the person is, only having their body as a clue. During these events, I prefer not to talk, so even that can’t act as a clue.
“Have a good night, Charles.”
“You as well, sir.”
I stride down the dark but elegant hallway to the stairs that lead up to Riveria’s office, which is actuallymyoffice.
When I crest the stairs and type in the code to enter, I find her inside. She’s a stunning Nigerian woman, wearing a bodycon dress with the sides cut out to show a generous amount of side breast.
She leans against the desk, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Surprise, surprise to find you here of all nights.”
“Wipe the smug smile off your face.” I walk past her toward my office in the back. “How did you enjoy Belinda fisting you, by the way?” I toss over my shoulder and smirk when she shrieks at my reminder.
Belinda is Riveria’s wife, and the only other civilian who knows that the Havoc Guardians own Hedon. She’s fine with the rumors going around about Riveria and me being a thing, and it fits with their very open, but loving, relationship. In terms of the fisting thing, though, the last time I had been here, I had walked in on the two of them on the sofa and suggested the fisting to Belinda.
I enter my office, and Riveria storms in behind me. “You’re as big of a dick as the one you got in your pants, Army.”
Working together, running a sex club, we’ve seen each other naked several times. However, contrary to what people think, I’ve never slept with her because I don’t mix business with pleasure. And Riveria is a gold-mine asset for running this place and being the face of the business, so I don’t fuck with a good thing.
I place my finger on the fingerprint reader under my desk, and a panel on the wall pops open, revealing the safe. Walking over to it, I pull a thick envelope from the inside pocket of my suit jacket, containing this week’s cash to launder through Hedon’s coffers. We keep it small to avoid risking this lucrative money-making business. I open the safe, place the cash inside, then lock it before turning back to Riveria.
“Belinda has relatively small hands.” I lift mine and wiggle my fingers before making a fist. “And I’ve seen the size of dildos you’ve been fucked with, Riv.”
“You’re such a dick.” A smile plays on her lips, though. “I got you a fresh mask.” She nods at the black bag sitting on my desk. “To keep the members guessing. I know how the women here hunt you, trying to be the one you rail.”
“Makes it much more fun, no?” I flash a filthy grin, grab the bag, and pull out the mask.
It’s a handmade masquerade mask of the extinct dire wolf, sleek and dangerous. The midnight-black leather will mold to my face, with the sharp edges of a predator. The mask will cover my whole head, with the leather extending down to cover my neck and tattoos.
“This is perfect,” I say. “Thanks for taking care of it.”
“It comes outfitted with a voice modulator.”
I smirk. “You know I prefer not to talk to my prey.”
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.
Knowing my manager wants to talk about something, I set the mask down on my desk and lean against it. “What’s up?”
“It’s Anais.”
“What of her?”
Anais was the first woman I dove into this world of kink and filthy sex with, and she had been a willing teacher. Before I left to enlist in the Marines, we fucked fairly frequently, although we were never exclusive or in a relationship—it was just casual, dirty sex. Once I was discharged and had returned to the Havoc Guardians, and the Council and I started Hedon, Anais has been a member since we opened. We still casually fuck, but less frequently now.
“She was harassing Sarie.”
I frown. “Sorry, who’s Sarie?”
Riveria rolls her eyes again, exasperated. “The one you fucked last week. Remember? Curves for days?” She runs her hands down her body, mimicking curves.
“Ah, yes, the exhibitionist and a squirter. Now I remember.”
Riveria taps her foot, annoyed as hell with me. “Like I was saying, Anais was harassing her; telling her to stay away from you.”
“I’ll talk with her,” I say roughly, pushing down my anger that she’s pulling territorial shit. We have never been, and never would be, a thing.
