“I feel like a horse being fed sugar cubes,” I whispered to her.
She placed the truffle in my mouth. Her lips curved as her eyes danced with mischief. “You know, that could work for me.”
I snorted. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m not sure pony play is my thing.”
She shrugged, laughing. “To each their own.”
As this new burst of flavor melted in my mouth, I was quite certain I could come right now.
“It’ll make the music sound better,” she said. “Savor it.”
She was right; the pleasure of the sound blended with the richness coating my tongue.
The man suddenly buried his face between the violinist’s thighs, licking and sucking as her music shifted. The notes became higher, less polished and more feverish. Her lips parted,a moan escaping her. Still, she played, the tempo moving with the speed of the man’s tongue.
It was like I could feel her cresting orgasm through the music, my own core pulsing, my body flush with decadent pleasure. I momentarily forgot where I was or why I was here.
I was captivated by each throaty moan, the man’s grip on her spread thighs, the climbing, quickening melody.
Beside me, Capricorn whispered to a woman who’d approached on her left. They giggled.
All my attention was focused on the violinist. I was so connected to her that I sensed the moment she reached the point of no return, her moans turning more violent as the bow glided smoothly across the strings. I wasn’t sure how it was possible, but as her body shook with crashing pleasure, she still managed to continue playing. It was as if she was channeling her orgasm itself, showing us exactly how it felt with every note.
The moment the performance ended, I clapped with the rest of the room. I turned to Capricorn, only to realize she was tangled up with the woman on the cushions next to me.
Good for her. I surveyed the room one more time. No Lorelei.
I didn’t see any tall blondes in the next rooms I dipped inside either. Nor did I see Wes, and I was surprised he hadn’t made good on his promise to find me. It was time to head back downstairs.
On my way down, I watched two men sneak up on an unsuspecting woman and shove a black bag over her head. She flailed, only to be quickly hoisted over one of the man’s shoulders as the other slapped her ass.
I remembered my enemy’s warnings during the etiquette class: just because a scene looked intense didn’t mean it hadn’t been pre-negotiated. Though, if somethingwasn’twanted, how would bystanders even know the difference?
I tried not to think about that, reminding myself of all the people I’d seen tonight who’d appeared genuinely happy to be here no matter what was being done to them. As I watched the men carry the woman away, I didn’t hear the wordred.
At the bottom of the stairs, I halted.
In front of me was a tall woman in heels and a light blue lingerie set, tiny fairy wings on her back. Her hair was in full curls, just as I’d seen Lorelei style hers thousands of times before.
21
NOVA
Ipicked up my pace.
I ignored everything but her. The increasingly dreamlike masks and attire and spaces designed to evoke all the senses melted into the periphery.
“Lorelei?” I called to the woman leading me through the mansion.
She didn’t turn. Someone called my name. I heard sounds of flesh against flesh, cutlery scraping against plates, laughter, thuds and slaps, classical music.
I ignored everything but the woman who refused to turn when I called her name.
A server stepped out of a kitchen carrying two platters of hors d'oeuvres, and I nearly toppled him and the food over onto the ground. I halted as he made a squeaky panicked noise and raised the platters into the air.
“Sorry,” I said quickly, darting around him.
I’d lost sight of Lorelei, but backdoors were in sight. Beyond the tall glass panels was an array of lights, tall hedges, and bodies on the move.
