34. Camilla
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CAMILLA
C rew guides me through a door before Bishop falls back in step with us, his hand grasping one of mine, so I’m sandwiched between them.
I’m so distracted by their touch that I almost miss the scene, or scenes, I suppose, unfolding in front of my eyes.
To my left is another small bar and sitting area, but this one is vastly different to the one I’ve just been ushered out of. Not because the decor is any different, because it’s not. The same colors blend just as seamlessly in here as they did in the front bar. The difference here is what’s happening in the bar area.
There’s a couple in the back corner, their eyes locked on one another as the woman’s hand jerks up and down, telling me what they’re doing beneath the table without me having to be able to see it.
In the booth beside them, there’s a man with a glass of amber liquid in one hand and his other carefully stroking the woman at his feet’s hair as she stares at the carpet submissively. She’s dressed in lingerie that leaves nothing to the imagination, and if it weren’t for the way she occasionally shuffles on her knees to get some relief, I’d be worried she’s here against her will.
I can feel their eyes on me, watching every move I make and watching me take in what I’m looking at.
I glance over the other side of the space at the small stage with people crowded around it. On the stage, there’s a woman wielding an impressive-looking whip, while a man bends over what I think is called a spanking bench.
She takes a step back, and I hold my breath as she cracks the whip over his ass, dragging a groan from his throat.
“Breathe, Little Menace,” Crew murmurs against the shell of my ear.
I flick my eyes up at him, but his mismatched gaze makes it even harder to breathe. The ache between my thighs is getting to the point where I’m about to start rubbing them together just to get some relief, and his intense stare is doing nothing to tamp down the need bubbling low in my belly.
The sound of the whip cracking pulls my attention back to the scene, and I can’t help but drag my bottom lip between my teeth to catch the moan threatening to rise up my throat.
I never thought myself much of a voyeur, but then, up until a few months ago, I didn’t think I had any interest in sex as a whole, and boy was I wrong about that.
Bishop squeezes my hand in his, and when I look up at him, his gaze is full of unadulterated lust. “Come on, love. There’s more to see.”
I open my mouth to argue, but a simple shake of his head has me snapping it closed again. Perhaps I should be upset that he can so effortlessly shut me up, but it’s kinda hot.
They guide me further into the club, past another stage where a blonde woman is kneeling beside a man, his hand running through her hair as he fucks his own hand. The look of need on her face is so similar to the one beating through my veins that I can’t help but feel for her.
I’m sure he’ll put her out of her misery before long.
Further in, we find another sitting area, this one is a bit more like the front bar, with the exception of some partial nudity. There’s a dark-haired waitress delivering drinks, wearing a black teddy. Her nipples are visible beneath the lacy fabric, and honestly, she looks incredible. Her confidence radiates from her, and I’m envious of it.
“This is where people who plan to partake in a scene come to discuss what they’re open to doing and any limits they might have. There are supervisors stationed in each of the spaces to ensure nothing happens that all parties aren’t comfortable with,” Bishop explains.
“I didn’t expect sex clubs to be this…nice,” I admit.
Crew chuckles. “Some of them aren’t like this. The Scarlet Lounge has a very exclusive clientele and is invite only. Everyone that comes here goes through an extensive background check before they’re ever allowed out of the front bar, and everyone does regular updates to their files to ensure the people they’re matched with don’t cross any lines they’re not comfortable with.”
I nod as I take in the space around me and notice a door beyond the sitting area. “What’s through there?”
“That’s where the private rooms are and where we’re heading in just a minute,” Crew tells me.
My breath hitches as images of what they could have planned for me filter through my mind, each one more sinful and depraved than the last.
“You like the sound of that, Little Menace? Are you going to be a good girl for us and let us have our way with your sweet little body?”
My answering moan has a wide smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and I can’t help but lean into him.
I’ve missed them so much this last week, and even though I know better, even though they hurt me beyond recognition, I can’t help but crave them.
A man with black hair and startling blue eyes waves at Bishop, and he returns the greeting with a curt nod.
“Who is that?”
“That’s Easton, he’s one of the people who supervises, but he was just letting me know our room is ready for us when we are,” Bishop explains.
Nervous anticipation sets to life in my stomach, but when they begin to lead me toward the doors, I don’t pull away. If anything, I lean closer, telling me just how royally fucked I am when it comes to these men.