Deadmen's Queen: A dark college reverse harem romance

41. Epilogue

Nate’s fingers entwined with mine under the snowy white tablecloth as I gazed out across the restaurant, my eyes fixed on the handsome man that stood on the temporary stage on the other side of the room. Crystal glasses chinked quietly and soft music played in the background as Bast stepped up to the white podium and cleared his throat. As the room fell silent, his eyes found me in the crowd and he smiled.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming tonight. This will be the first charity auction and ball for the Phoenix Lives charity, and on behalf of myself and my co-founder, Lord Carver, we wish to express our gratitude for your presence here.”

There was a loud round of applause, and Bast waited a few moments before continuing. “I would also like to thank the owner of the restaurant, Tristan Blackwood, for allowing us to use his premises and providing the excellent meals we’ve had tonight with no cost to the charity, meaning more of the money raised tonight will go towards the children this charity is devoted to helping. I would also like to raise a glass to him in recognition of his first Michelin star, and wish him much success from here on out.”

Another thunderous round of applause, and I looked around to glimpse Tristan by the door to the kitchens, clad as ever in his pristine chef whites. He flushed a little at Bast’s praise, but his smile was genuine and I felt such a rush of pride for him, that I let go of Nate’s hand to clap loudly. It had taken a lot of encouragement and support from all of us to persuade Tristan to talk to his family about inheriting the family tech company, and to his surprise, they had been more than happy for him to step aside. It turned out that his little sister Rosa was a computer whizz, and that she’d been desperate to work in the company for years. Now she was nineteen, she was working her way up through the departments, but she was making short work of it, and Tristan suspected she’d be on the board within a couple of years. We’d spent a year living in Paris while Tristan studied at a prestigious french cookery school, and then moved to London where he’d opened his own restaurant six months ago.

Tristan disappeared into the kitchen as Bast continued and I looked up to see Nate smiling down at me.

“I think he’s putting your painting up last, so we’ll have a while before the bidding for that starts. Anything on the list you fancy, baby?” His hand snaked further up my thigh where it had been resting, and I flashed him a smile.

“Behave, and yes. I was thinking of bidding for the villa in St. Lucia. It’s beautiful, and we talked about getting a holiday home.”

Nate nodded leaning over to look at the brochure, his hand slipping under my short skirt.

“It is beautiful. Reminds me a little of Dom’s beach house in Cornwall.”

“That’s one of the reasons I - Nate!” I hissed, as he pulled aside my underwear and slid his finger along my pussy.

“Shh,” he said calmly. “Someone will hear you.”

I blushed looking around at the nearby tables, but thankfully they were all watching Bast.

“Behave,” I whispered, trying to move away, but he wouldn’t be told no, and I gasped as his finger slid inside me.

“You say, no, but baby, your pussy is soaking my hand,” Nate murmured in my ear.

“Next we have a limited edition, signed copy of ”The Art of the Conception Supercar”,” Bast was saying on stage. The bidding started strong, with people eager for the rare find, but I was finding it hard to follow along. My breaths came in short gasps as Nate continued his torment. He looked casual, attentive to the auction proceedings while he sent sparks of pleasure coursing through me under the table.

“A charming villa in St. Lucia,” Bast announced the next item up for bid. His voice pierced through my haze of desire and I realised with a jolt that it was our lot. Nate”s hand stilled momentarily, his gaze shifting subtly towards Bast on stage. I took the moment to try and steady my breathing, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed our little game.

The bidding started at a steady pace, the enticing description of the villa drawing many interested parties into a bidding war. Yet all I could think about was Nate”s hand on me, his fingers driving me mad with desire. Heat pooled low in my belly as he resumed his ministrations, drawing circles around my clit before pushing two fingers deep inside me.

My grip on the tablecloth tightened as the bids grew higher and higher. The thrill of our secret game mixed with anticipation for what would come after was intoxicating. My breath hitched when he pressed harder against my clit, driving me toward a precipice I wasn”t sure I could hold off any longer.

“Bid stands at seven hundred thousand,” called Bast. “Do I see seven fifty in the room?”

I let go of Nate”s wrist, raising my hand to bid, and he slid another finger inside me, just as Bast looked over in our direction.

“Seven fifty at the back,” he said, though a smile played at the edge of his lips. He fucking knew what Nate was doing, I realised.

“Eight hundred,” came the call from a man over to the right. Nate”s thumb circled my clit, and under the table my free hand gripped the cushion tightly, as I fought to maintain my composure.

“Nine hundred,” I called, my voice sounding rougher than normal to my ears.

Bast”s smile deepened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Nine hundred to the lady at the back. Is there a higher bid?”

“One million!” came a shout from the left. The room gasped, turning to look at the bidder - an older man with greying hair and a smug expression.

Nate”s fingers stilled inside me, his attention shifting towards the older man. He must have sensed my disappointment because he gave me a slow, deliberate stroke that made me exhale sharply. The smug man watched us intently but whether he knew what was going on or not, he didn”t show it. “One point one,” Nate said, breaking the silence, his voice steady and calm.

The older man gaped at Nate before shaking his head and sitting down, effectively ending the bidding war. There was a momentary pause before applause filled the room, and Bast called out, “Sold to Lord Carver for one point one million!”

I tried to focus on the people around me clapping and congratulating us but all I could think of was Nate”s hand still under my skirt. He finally withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth and licking them clean while maintaining eye contact with me.

Nate had finally accepted the title a year after the unexpected death of his father, the late Lord Henry Carver. It had been a shock when the police had arrived at our door in London one morning to break the news to Nate that there had been a burglary attempt at Carver’s townhouse the night before. Four figures in black had been caught on the edge of one of the outside cameras entering the house in the small hours, clearly catching Carver asleep. The thieves had savagely tortured him in order to get him to reveal the combination to the safe, and once it had been emptied, they’d executed him, shooting him in the head and chest.

Nate had obviously been devastated, but had said he wasn’t surprised considering his father’s company and their involvement with certain nameless but internationally known criminals. The police had agreed Carver had clearly pissed off the wrong people.

Within six weeks, Nate had sold the country estate that had been in his family for generations and he’d used the money to set up Phoenix Lives with Bast, a charity that provided lawyers, counsellors, and foster homes for children from abused homes. It did a lot of good, and was going from strength to strength thanks to Bast’s business acumen. Nate himself ran a boxing and MMA focused gym on the side of the premises they bought, and ran free classes for kids of any age that wanted to come. It was heartwarming to see him find his softer side, training and helping these kids, some of whom were so lost. It had healed him, anyone could see that, and I’d fallen deeper in love with him than I”d thought possible. Right now, though, I wished I was big enough to swing my own punch at his smug face.

I squeezed my thighs together under the table, uncomfortably turned on thanks to him, and he grinned down at me.

“I thought you wanted me to stop?”

“I wanted you not to start!” I muttered.

“Ah, don’t get mad at me, baby. I”ve got something better for you…”

He put his hands on my hips, lifting me onto his lap, smoothing my skirt out, and resting his head on my shoulder. A couple of people glanced our way and smiled at how sweet he was being. Underneath my skirt however, he’d lifted me, sliding me down onto his cock, and I grabbed at his arm as he bottomed out deep inside, stretching me deliciously. I squirmed, but he held me still.

“Now, be quiet. Your lot is coming up.”

“Are you kidding me?” I glared at him, my pussy aching with the need to move over him, but his arms were like a vice.

“Shh, you’ll miss it, Paige.”

“And now ladies and gentlemen,” Bast”s voice cut through my pleasured haze. “We have a special treat. A painting by our very own Paige Black. Incidentally, you can see Ms. Black’s current exhibition at the Tate Modern from September.”

My eyes shot up to the stage where they were unveiling my painting. It was one of my favourites - a vibrant splash of colours that transformed into a beating heart when you stepped back away from it. I’d changed my name a few months after graduating, no longer wanting to be connected to either of my parents. I’d chosen the name Black, because it reminded me that sometimes darkness wasn’t a bad thing. Sometimes, darkness was a living flame inside you, that just needed to be freed.

My heart hammered in my chest as the bidding started at two million pounds and quickly escalated from there.

“Thirty million,” a woman in a sleek red dress called out, her voice sharp and confident. I shifted in Nate”s lap, my breath hitching as he remained still inside me.

“Thirty-five,” came a deeper voice from the left. I glanced around, trying to find who had bid. It was the same older man who had gone against Nate for the previous item.

The room fell into silence. My heart pounded against my chest as I recognised who it was - Arthur Callaghan, a man known for his vast collection of unique art pieces.

Bast”s eyes met mine from across the room, a smirk playing on his lips.

“The current bid is at thirty-five million. Do we hear forty?”

The suspense hung thick in the air as everyone awaited the next move. My skin buzzed with anticipation and excitement. The high of creating something that others admired enough to spend their money on was almost as good as the pleasure Nate had been building up in me earlier.

“Forty million,” called a familiar voice and I looked over to see Tristan standing at the door to the kitchen. He grinned over at me as I shook my head.

Bast raised an eyebrow but didn”t comment on it. His face held an amused look as he spoke into the microphone once more,

“Forty million from Mr Blackwood, any advance on forty?”

My eyes darted around at the eager hands shooting up to bid, a small victorious thrill making its home in my chest. Nate”s grip tightened around me as he thrust up into me slightly, a soft groan escaping my lips.

“Focus, baby,” he whispered. I did my best to keep my composure, but every touch was turning my brain to mush. Nate”s fingers had found my clit again, and I was gripping his arm tightly. I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out as Nate timed his thrusts with Bast”s count. My body was wound tight, teetering on the edge of what promised to be a spectacular climax.

“Eighty!” shouted Callaghan.

My mouth dropped open and Nate pinched my clit hard, sending my body spiralling over the edge. I gripped the edge of the table and I came around his cock, barely hearing Bast as he ended the bidding. My body shook under the force of my climax, and I struggled to breathe quietly, biting down hard on my lip to stop myself moaning out loud.

“Sold! To Mr Callaghan for eighty million. Congratulations, and thank you for your generosity, sir.”

I heard Nate grunt, his body stiffening as my pussy convulsed around his cock, and then he was filling me silently with his cum, as the audience applauded around us. Bast closed the auction, his eyes fixed on Nate and I, as he made his way through the tables to where we sat, still locked together.

“You looked like you enjoyed that, Ms Black,” Bast said, grinning down at me.

“It was rather thrilling,” I said, grinning, looking up at him with so much love and pride, I thought my heart might burst.

On the last night of the Deadmen’s Club, Bast had taken me to bed when we reached the hotel. As we’d drifted off to sleep, he told me he’d finally spoken to his father and he would no longer be taking over as head of the Syndicate. His father had promised to work something out, but after the unexpected demise of Lord Carver, Edward Blake found it much easier to run the Syndicate more to his own liking, and Bast was now a free man. It suited him and the charity gave him a real purpose and a chance to do some good in the world.

He held out his hand and I took it, gasping as he pulled me up and off Nate’s cock. Without a word, he led me out of the ballroom, and through the door to where the cars were parked. Another limousine waited for us, but I tugged on his hand.

“Bast, I need to clean up…”

“Leave it,” he said. He opened the door to the car, guiding me inside. Tristan was already inside, looking hot as fuck as he lounged back on the leather seats, his trousers undone and his hand wrapped around his cock.

“On your knees, slut. This man needs his cock sucked, and I have been dying to eat out your pussy since Nate started fucking you in there.”

He pushed me down onto my knees, and I lowered my head, taking Tristan into my mouth. Bast wrenched down my underwear, pushing my legs apart and pressing his mouth to my pussy.

“Fuck that’s hot,” he moaned as I gasped under his tongue. “I can taste his cum in you. Fuck.” He grabbed my thighs, devouring me like he was starving.

Tristan leaned back, his eyes half-closed and a smug smile tugging at his lips while I worked him over in the dimly lit backseat of the limousine. The car rumbled to life beneath us, the slight vibrations adding an extra layer to the already intoxicating sensations swirling inside of me.

I slid my mouth down Tristan”s shaft, taking him all the way in, while Bast continued his onslaught, licking up every trace of Nate”s release, bringing an entirely new level of pleasure roaring through me. The taste of Tristan combined with the feel of Bast had my body on edge, my mind already diving headfirst into a pleasure-filled haze.

The car pulled to a stop, and the door opened. Nate climbed in next to us and sat down next to Tristan, watching us. I reached for his zipper, sliding my hand inside to release his cock, moving from Tristan to him, and then back again.

“Spread your legs wider,” Bast growled from beneath me. I complied immediately, the vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up my spine. His tongue delved deeper into me, making quick work of the mess Nate had left.

“I hate not being able to see you,” growled Nate. He reached forward, and grabbing the fabric with both hands he tore my dress apart, dropping the pieces to the floor.

Bast straightened up, and I moaned as his cock slid deep into my pussy.

“Fuck me hard, my filthy little slut,” he commanded, pounding into me. Sensation after sensation washed over me in waves as they moved together inside me; the heat of their bodies against mine, the sounds we made together filling the confined space... it was heady and intoxicating.

“You’re such a good little slut,” Tristan praised me, his fingers tangling in my hair as he guided my pace over his cock.

“Still so greedy for our cocks,” agreed Nate.

There was no gentleness here, nothing sweet or tender about the way they used me. This wasn’t about making love; it was about raw, primal desire and satisfaction. And I revelled in it, in the crude comments and animalistic sounds that echoed through the car. The taste of them on my tongue and the scent of sex mixed with expensive cologne filled my senses, intoxicating me more than any drug ever could. The feel of their bodies against mine, their hardness splitting me open and filling me up was enough to tip me over the edge again.

I felt myself shatter around Bast”s thrusts. Screaming out in ecstasy, I clenched tightly around him, milking him for all he was worth. His answering growl held a note of possessiveness that sent chills down my spine as he pulled away. He pushed me down onto the floor, holding his cock over me, and with a groan he came, covering my breasts in thick ropes of cum. Tristan followed a moment later, spilling over my stomach, and then Nate grabbed my chin roughly.

“Open up, baby.” I did, and with a roar, he came, his cum shooting into my mouth, running down my chin and my throat.

“Look at you,” Bast said. “Such a good little whore.”

“Beautiful,” said Tristan, reaching out to stroke my hair.

“Our queen,” said Nate, pulling me up onto his lap, despite the mess.

I smiled, licking my lips and cuddled into him, listening to his heartbeat all the way home.

***