Page 41 of Take Me Darkly

Black marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of recessed lighting, while charcoal walls absorbed sound, creating an impenetrable cocoon. In the center of the space stood a massive four-poster bed, its black satin sheets and plush pillows an invitation for sin. A circular table sat in the corner, already set with crisp black linens and gleaming silver.

Behind it, floor-to-ceiling glass overlooked the surrounding neighborhood. The one-way panes allowed people see out while keeping prying eyes from seeing in. The wall on the opposite side of the room was the same, except it overlooked one of the public play areas of Club O below.

I’d spent the better part of the afternoon finalizing every detail. Matteo, whose restaurant supplied the club’s private events, had outdone himself with a twelve-course tasting menu. Each dish waited in warming boxes, ready to be plated at precisely the right moment. The Dom Pérignon and Cristal sat chilling in ice, and a decanter of private reserve cognac sat nearby for after.

But the real centerpiece was Serena.

She stood near the door, the sheer black robe catching the ambient light to cast a dangerous silhouette. The purple corset beneath molded to her curves, lifting her breasts in a way that made my slacks feel unforgivably tight. And those crotchless lace panties left nothing to my imagination while promising absolute ruin.

Mine. She’s actually mine.

The reality was intoxicating. I’d clawed my way up from nothing, achieving success by building on foundations no one could ever know about. Yet a woman like Serena—educated, cultured, carrying a pure, fierce light inside her—was choosing to stand here with a monster.

My gaze traveled the length of her, tracing the long line of her legs up to her dark, tumbling waves. Through the sheer silk, the faint mark on her upper back was visible—a brutal reminder of how close I’d come to losing her. My jaw clamped tight. I hated that scar and the violence it represented. Someone had tried to end her life, and I had failed to protect her.

Tonight was about erasing that pain. Tonight was about reminding her exactly who held her soul.

“The attention to detail is incredible,” she said softly, her fingers trailing along the walls, stopping at the foot of the bed to touch the footboard. “The craftmanship of the furniture is exquisite. It really is beautiful in this room.”

I moved behind her, pressing my chest against her back, letting her feel the effect she had on me. My erection nestled against the curve of her ass, separated only by thin silk and my slacks. “Not as beautiful as you.”

She laughed, the sound breathy. “That might be the most cliché line I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth.” I wrapped my arms around her waist, splaying one hand across her stomach while the other slid up to cup her breast over the satin. “You’re the most intoxicating creature in this building. And right now, all I can think about is every single way I’m going to take you tonight.”

Her breath hitched. “Anton...”

“I’ve been starving for this all day,” I murmured against her neck, inhaling her scent—jasmine, warm skin, and dark arousal. “Peeling this robe off you, stripping away the lace piece by piece. Tasting every inch of you until you scream my name loud enough to shake these walls. I intend to be ruthless. I want to hear you beg.”

I rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger through the corset, feeling the peak harden instantly. I wanted to burn away every shred of Catholic guilt that made her question her own desires. She leaned back into my chest, grinding her hips against my shaft with deliberate, teasing heat.

Spinning her around, I captured her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. She yielded immediately, her hands fisting in my shirt as a soft whimper escaped her throat. My hand slid down her stomach, dipping beneath the crotchless lace to find her completely drenched.

“So ready for me, princess,” I rasped against her mouth, sliding my fingers through her slick heat. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re soaking.”

She whimpered, her hips rolling against my hand.

The sounds she made drove me insane. I pulled back, bringing my slick fingers to my lips and sucking them clean, savoring her sweet, addictive taste.

“Delicious. But I’m going to savor you properly.” Taking her wrist, I guided her to the table and pulled out her chair. She sank onto the cushion, her eyes dark and heavy with need. I poured cold champagne into two crystal flutes, lifting mine. “To tonight. To forgetting the world outside this room and letting yourself feel.”

Her blue eyes reflected the flickering candlelight as she touched her glass to mine. “To forgetting.”

We drank, the cold bubbles biting my tongue, but all I cared about was tasting her again.

I brought over the first course from the warming boxes—oysters on the half shell topped with caviar and champagne mignonette. Aphrodisiacs, chosen deliberately.

“You’re serving me?” Serena asked, a surprised smile touching her lips.

“Tonight, I take care of your every need.” I set the plate down and took the seat opposite her, sliding my knee between her thighs. “I’m going to feed you, pleasure you, and worship your body until you forget your own name.”

A deep flush crept up her chest. “That’s ambitious.”

“That’s a promise.” I picked up an oyster, bringing it to her mouth. “Open for me.”

She parted those full, dark lips, letting me tip the shell into her mouth. I watched her throat work as she swallowed. The simple sight was indecently hot.

“Good?” I asked, my voice dropping an octave.