The air changes immediately. Inside, the atmosphere is rich and charged, like stepping into another realm. The lobby alone is a vision of decadence, plush black velvet, flickering candlelight, gilded mirrors, and music so soft it feels like a hum against the skin. The scent of something expensive, amber, sandalwood, a hint of smoke, clings to the air.
But it’s the people who hold my attention.
Some are dressed to kill, men in suits, women in designer lingerie and stilettos, sipping champagne, whispering behind masks, touching as if they’ve known each other for years, ormaybe just minutes. But others are fully on display. One woman kneels at the feet of a man in a velvet jacket, his fingers tangled in her hair as he feeds her bites of chocolate between whispered commands. In the center of the room, a scene unfolds that stops me cold.
A girl. Two men. A leash. One buried deep in her mouth, the other behind her, their movements perfectly in sync, her moans muffled and desperate. It’s obscene and hypnotic, raw in a way I’ve never seen in real life. My face burns, but I can’t look away.
Calvin leans in, his breath grazing my neck as he tugs me forward. “This way.”
We weave through the room, and I can feel my pulse in my fingertips. I’m so far out of my depth I can’t even see the shoreline.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he murmurs, so close I feel his lips against my ear. “Watching them use her like she was made for it.”
I swallow hard, too stunned to speak.
“You turn beet red when you’re flustered,” he adds, amused. “Tell me… do other parts of you flush that easily?”
“Calvin…” I whisper, my knees threatening to give out.
He chuckles wickedly as the elevator doors slide open. “You’re going to be fun.”
The elevator glides upward in silence, my nerves on fire under my skin. When the doors open again, we step into a hallway lit only by flickering sconces. It feels like walking deeper into temptation. Calvin leads me to the last door, a smooth pane of black wood. He swipes his card, and with a soft click, it opens.
The room is elegant but voyeuristic. One wall is entirely glass, looking out over a lower floor soaked in red light. There’s a Saint Andrew’s cross, a padded bench, cages, silkropes, and more. Bodies move slowly beneath us, entangled in erotic rituals.
Our space is more subdued, a queen-sized bed with rich sheets, a velvet sofa, and a table laid with decadent snacks and chilled wine.
I drift toward the window, unable to look away.
“Can they see us?” I ask.
“No.” His voice is right behind me, making me jump slightly.
I turn to him. “Are you a dom?”
Calvin smiles, slow and teasing. “Would it scare you if I said yes?”
I shake my head, though my voice catches. “No. I think… it actually explains a lot.”
His eyes search mine before he reaches for my hand. “Come here.”
He leads me to the couch facing the massive window, offering an unobstructed view of the scene unfolding below. His voice is reassuring but still laced with that steady authority that makes my breath hitch. “Tonight, we’re just watching. Unless you want more. Just relax and enjoy the show. If it’s too much, you tell me, and we’ll leave. No pressure. I want you to be comfortable.”
He eases down onto the plush couch, spreading his arms along the back as if he owns the room, hell, the entire club, and I follow, my legs weak as I settle beside him.
I don’t think I feel uncomfortable, exactly. More like… overstimulated.
Because just a few hours ago, all of this…leather, leashes, rules, and surrender was safely locked in the pages of my darkest romance novels. Yet here I am, with heat blooming low in my belly, my thighs pressed tightly together as reality edges into the territory of want.
Not to mention, he’s still my sister’s fiancé.
“Calvin… what about?—”
He cuts me off gently but firmly. “Do me a favor,” he says, almost coaxing. “For the next few hours… don’t mention your sister. Or the wedding. Or anything else outside this room. Just be here with me. Right now. Enjoy it.”
He pours a glass of champagne with a deliberate elegance and offers it to me, the golden bubbles catching the red light.
I hesitate, the weight of his request pressing against my conscience. “That’s kind of hard to do.”
