17. Lainey
SEVENTEEN
LAINEY
Marcus pulls his black truck into a spot near the mall entrance.
The Cooper Heights Mall stretches before us, its limestone facade gleaming in the afternoon sun. The west wing houses all the luxury boutiques where Cooper Hills wives spend their husbands’ money. I usually avoid that section, sticking to the affordable shops on the east side.
“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing at the mall on a Tuesday afternoon?” I ask as he kills the engine. “Or did you just miss watching me squirm?”
His lips curve into that dangerous smile that never fails to make my pulse race.
“I always like watching you squirm.” He comes around to open my door, his hand finding its usual place at my lower back. “But today isn’t about that. Today, we’re here to shop. You need something special for tonight.”
“Tonight?” My heart speeds up at the promise in his voice. “What exactly are you plotting, mountain man?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, baby. Do you trust me?”
“You know I do.”
We walk through the main entrance, where a massive fountain creates white noise that echoes off the vaulted ceiling. The water catches afternoon sunlight streaming through skylights, casting rainbow reflections across marble floors.
We approach the west wing, where the ceiling soars higher and crystal chandeliers replace fluorescent lights. The air carries traces of expensive perfume. Even the marble floors gleam brighter here, polished to mirror shine. Everything speaks of money and exclusivity.
The shoppers change too.
A group of women pause in their conversation outside Valentino to stare as we walk by. I recognize them as Cooper Hills regulars who sometimes stop at the diner after their yoga classes. Their athleisure outfits probably cost more than my monthly grocery budget. Now, they watch Marcus with obvious interest, whispering behind their perfectly manicured hands.
“People are starting at us,” I murmur. Their eyes track us as we pass, taking in Marcus’s muscled frame and my plain outfit.
His grip tightens possessively. “Let them look. Makes it easier for everyone to see who you belong to.”
La Belle sits at the heart of the luxury wing, its windows showcasing evening gowns that flow like liquid silk. Gold leaf details frame the entrance where fresh flowers perfume the air. Inside, crystal sconces cast warm light over display cases filled with accessories that probably cost more than the diner makes in a month.
“Marcus, are you sure about this place?" I ask, my eyes widening as I take in the opulent surroundings. "It looks really expensive."
He chuckles, and his hand slides lower to squeeze my hip. "That's the point, baby. I want you to have the best."
He leads me inside, holding the door open like a perfect gentleman. The interior is even more stunning up close. Lush carpets muffle our footsteps as we pass racks of designer clothing, each piece more exquisite than the last. Crystal vases hold artful clusters of white calla lilies, their delicate petals almost luminous.
A willowy blonde in a tailored black suit approaches us, her heels clicking across the polished floor.
"Welcome to La Belle. How may I assist you today?"
Her eyes skim over me briefly before fixing on Marcus with obvious appreciation.
"We need something special for my girl," Marcus replies smoothly, seemingly oblivious to her interest. "An evening gown for a formal event. Price is no object."
The associate's eyebrows lift slightly but she maintains her professional demeanor. "Of course, sir. Please, follow me.”
The associate leads us to a private fitting area at the back of the store.
Heavy velvet curtains enclose the space, lending it an intimate feel. A tufted loveseat upholstered in ivory silk occupies one corner, accented with embroidered throw pillows. Ornate mirrors line the walls, reflecting the soft glow of a crystal chandelier overhead.
"Please make yourself comfortable," the associate says, gesturing to the loveseat. "I'll return shortly with a selection of gowns for you to try."
As she disappears through the curtains, Marcus settles onto the loveseat, his large frame taking up most of the space. He pats the spot next to him invitingly.
I perch on the edge of the cushion, my nerves fluttering. "You still haven't told me what this is all about."
He reaches out to tuck a stray curl behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek.
"I'm taking you to the Summit tonight. To the third floor."
My pulse thrums with a heady mix of excitement and nerves.
I've heard whispers about what happens on the third floor at The Summit. They say it's an exclusive playground where the wealthy and powerful indulge their deepest fantasies. A place where inhibitions disappear and pleasure reigns supreme.
I never imagined I would experience it firsthand. But with Marcus, anything feels possible. He has a way of pushing me beyond my comfort zone, awakening desires I never knew existed.
"The third floor?" I whisper, my voice trembling slightly. "Are you sure we're ready for that?"
His hand slides up my thigh, his touch igniting sparks beneath my skin.
"I'm sure about us, Lainey. I want to give you everything. I want to show you how good it can be when you let go and trust me completely."
I lean into him, my body molding to the hard planes of his chest. "I do trust you, Marcus. More than I've ever trusted anyone."
"Good." His lips brush my temple, sending shivers down my spine. "Because tonight is all about you, baby. I want you to feel powerful and sexy and absolutely fucking irresistible."
"And the dress?" I ask, my mind conjuring images of the exquisite gowns I glimpsed on the racks.
"The dress is for you," he confirms. "I want everyone to see how stunning you are. I want their jaws to hit the floor when you walk in on my arm."
A thrill runs through me at the thought of commanding that kind of attention. Of being seen as a force to be reckoned with instead of just sweet, dependable Lainey.
"Will I be on your arm all night?"
His hand tightens on my thigh, his eyes flashing with possessive heat. "Absolutely. You're mine, Lainey. I'm not sharing you with anyone."
A rush of relief mingles with the arousal simmering in my veins. As much as the idea of the third floor excites me, I'm not sure I'm ready to explore that side of myself with anyone but Marcus.
"Good," I whisper, holding his gaze. "Because I only want to be yours."
The curtain parts before he can respond, and the associate returns with an armful of gowns in jewel-bright hues. She hangs them on a rolling rack by the mirrors, each one more stunning than the last.
"I've selected a few options based on your preferences," she says, smoothing her hands over the luxurious fabrics. "Please let me know if you would like to see anything else."
Marcus rises from the loveseat, his presence filling the room. "I'd like to see her in red. Something bold and sexy that will turn heads."
The associate nods, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "I have just the thing."
She selects a gown from the rack, holding it up for our inspection. The dress is a deep, vibrant red, the color of passion and seduction. It's made of luxurious silk that seems to shimmer under the lights, the fabric flowing like liquid fire.
The bodice is fitted, with a plunging neckline that promises to showcase my curves. Delicate spaghetti straps crisscross in the back, leaving my shoulders bare. The skirt flares out at the hips, falling gracefully to the floor.
"This is our most popular style this season," the associate says, running a hand along the gown's smooth lines. "The color is absolutely stunning, and the cut is both elegant and alluring. I think it would look incredible on you."
Marcus steps closer, his eyes raking over the dress with undisguised appreciation. "Let's see it on her."
The associate leads me to a spacious changing room, helping me slip into the gown with practiced efficiency. The silk whispers against my skin as she fastens the delicate zipper, the material molding to my curves like a lover's caress.
I step out from behind the curtain, my heart pounding in anticipation. Marcus is waiting for me, his amber eyes igniting with desire as they sweep over my form.
"Fuck, baby," he breathes, his voice rough with want. "You look incredible."
I turn to face the mirrors, my breath catching at the sight of my reflection.
The dress clings to my body like a second skin, the rich red hue a striking contrast against my creamy complexion. The neckline dips low, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. The skirt flows around my legs, the slit rising high on my thigh to offer a flash of skin with every step.
I look powerful. Sexy. Like a woman who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to take it.
Marcus comes up behind me, his large hands settling on my hips. I can feel the heat of his body through the thin silk, the evidence of his arousal pressing against my lower back.
"Look at you," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "So fucking gorgeous. So perfect for me."
I meet his gaze in the mirror, my pulse jumping at the raw hunger in his eyes. "You like it?"
"I love it." His hands slide upward, skimming over my ribcage to cup my breasts. "I love how it shows off these pretty tits. How it hugs this sweet little ass."
He punctuates his words with a firm squeeze, and I bite back a moan. The associate is still hovering nearby, her expression carefully neutral even as her eyes dart between us.
"We'll take it," Marcus says.
The associate nods, a satisfied smile on her red lips. "Excellent choice, sir. This gown was made for her."
She steps forward to make a few final adjustments, her deft fingers smoothing the silk over my curves. I can barely breathe, every nerve ending in my body alive and humming with anticipation.
Marcus's hands continue their slow exploration, tracing the delicate lines of the dress. Each touch sends heat rushing through my veins, pooling low in my belly. By the time the associate steps back, I'm flushed and aching, my nipples straining against the thin silk.
"What about shoes?" I ask.
The associate's smile widens. "I have the perfect pair."
She disappears into the back room, returning a moment later with a sleek black box. Inside, nestled on a bed of tissue paper, is a pair of sky-high stilettos. The red soles wink up at me, the same shade as my dress.
"Louboutins," the associate says, lifting one from the box. "The Iriza style, our most popular. The low vamp elongates the leg, while the pointed toe adds a touch of sophistication."
She kneels before me, guiding my foot into the shoe. The leather is buttery soft, molding to my skin like it was made just for me. She fastens the delicate ankle strap, her fingers grazing my skin and sending another shiver through me.
I stand, the added height putting me nearly at eye level with Marcus. The heels force me to arch my back, thrusting my breasts forward and my ass out. I feel sexy. Powerful. Like I could bring a man to his knees with a single look.
Behind me, Marcus makes a low sound of appreciation. "Fuck, baby. Those shoes..."
I glance over my shoulder at him, heat rushing to my cheeks at the blatant hunger in his gaze. The front of his jeans strains obscenely, his cock visibly hard beneath the denim.
"The dress is for you," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me. "But the shoes? Those are for me."
I shiver at the promise in his words, my mind filling with images of all the wicked things he could do to me in these heels. All the ways he could make me beg and scream and fall apart, my legs wrapped around his waist or hooked over his shoulders.
"We'll take them," Marcus says, his eyes never leaving mine. "Both the dress and the shoes."
The associate nods, a knowing glint in her eye as she moves to package up our purchases. I change back into my own clothes in a daze, my skin still tingling from Marcus's touch.
When we leave the store, the bags dangling from my wrist, I'm practically vibrating with anticipation. I can't wait to see what tonight will bring.
We arrive at The Summit just after nine p.m.
As we pull up to the building, Marcus slows the truck to a stop in front of the valet stand. A sharply dressed attendant opens the door for him. But before the man can open the door for me, Marcus presses the button that locks my car door.
“I’ve got it,” he tells the valet as he walks around to my side of the car. The possessiveness in his tone, the way he takes charge, sends a thrill racing down my spine.
I shouldn’t love it, his insane caveman tendencies, but I do.
Marcus opens my car door and offers me his hand. I slide my fingers into his warm grip and let him help me out, my heels clicking against the pavement.
The valet drives off with the truck as Marcus tucks my hand into the crook of his elbow and leads me around the side of the building to a separate entrance. My heart pounds wildly against my ribcage, anticipation and nerves warring inside me.
The last time I was here, I only saw the bar area on the ground floor. I had no idea what existed on the upper levels.
A discreet door opens before we even reach it, revealing a sharply dressed man waiting to greet us.
“Mr. Ruins, welcome to The Summit,” he says smoothly, stepping back to allow us entry. “Please, come in.”
We step into a small foyer, all sleek lines and muted lighting. The employee leads us to a private elevator, swiping a key card to grant us access.
“The club is located on the third floor,” he informs us as the doors slide open. “Enjoy your evening.”
Marcus guides me into the elevator with a hand at the small of my back, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of my dress. As the doors close, leaving us alone, he turns to face me.
“Nervous?” he asks.
I meet his gaze, my tongue darting out to wet my suddenly dry lips.
“A little,” I admit. “But I’m also excited. I want to share this with you.”
Marcus’s eyes darken at my words, his hand tightening on my waist. “You have no idea how much I want that too, baby. To see you let go, to watch you come undone...”
His voice is a low rumble that I feel in my core. I lean into him, craving his touch, his kiss, anything to ease the ache building inside me.
But he steps back with a knowing smirk. “Not yet, greedy girl. I have plans for you tonight.”
Before I can respond, the elevator chimes and the doors slide open, revealing the club.
I take a steadying breath and step out into a world unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
The space is vast and open, with a sleek, modern aesthetic that oozes sensuality. Dim lighting casts everything in a sultry glow while shadows dance along the walls. The air itself feels charged, electric with the energy of the couples scattered throughout the room.
My gaze is immediately drawn to the various stages positioned around the floor, each one showcasing a different erotic scene. Everywhere I look, there are couples and groups engaged in various stages of scandalous acts.
To my left, a curvaceous redhead is bound to a spanking bench, her ass glowing pink as her partner delivers measured swats with a paddle. Across the room, two men and a woman catch my eye. The woman is on her knees, giving one man a blowjob while the other pounds into her from behind.
The slick slide of flesh, her muffled moans and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin sends lust spiking hot and heavy in my core.
“Color?” Marcus asks as his lips brush against the shell of my ear.
My mouth is so dry I have to swallow before I can respond. “Green.”
“Good girl.”
He leads me further into the club, his hand at the small of my back as I try to take it all in. The air is thick with the heady scent of sex and leather, the bass of the sensual music throbbing in my veins. I’m so turned on I can barely think straight.
We pass a beautiful Asian woman suspended from the ceiling in an intricate web of ropes. Her head is thrown back in ecstasy as a tall blonde woman trails a flogger over her exposed skin. Each flick of the falls makes the bound woman shudder and gasp.
I can’t tear my gaze away.
“I knew it,” Marcus murmurs, his voice a low rumble in my ear. “The moment I saw you watching that couple at the bar, I knew you’d be into this.”
Heat floods my cheeks at the memory, at being so thoroughly seen by him. He noticed my fascination that night, the undeniable arousal that had pooled between my thighs as I watched the couple get hot and heavy.
“You’re not...” I bite my lip, struggling to find the right words. “You’re not upset?”
Marcus turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. His eyes bore into mine, dark with promise.
“Fuck no, baby. I love watching you get turned on.”
His large hands slide down to cup my ass, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the thick ridge of his cock pressing into my stomach and it makes me dizzy with desire.
“But if you think I’m going to share this perfect body with anyone else, you’re wrong.” His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass. “This is all mine.”
He releases me with a light swat to my ass that has me yelping. Then he’s taking my hand and leading me towards a hallway off the main room.
We pass door after door, some open to reveal private playrooms in use. In one, a woman is tied spread eagle to a bed while her partner trails an ice cube over her quivering flesh. In another, a man is on all fours, his partner dragging a sharp stiletto heel down his spine.
Each glimpse sends my arousal ratcheting higher until I’m practically trembling with need. By the time Marcus stops outside a door at the very end of the hall, I’m panting softly, my skin flushed and tingling with anticipation.
He swipes a key card and the door clicks open. Then he steps back, allowing me to enter first. I step inside and my breath catches in my throat.
The room is large and dimly lit, with a massive bed dominating the center. Unlike the beds in the main room, this one is adorned with luxurious silk sheets and plush pillows. There’s a velour armchair positioned in front of a large window overlooking the club, and along the walls are an array of toys and implements that make my insides clench. The glass looks out over the main floor of the club, giving us a perfect view of the debauched scenes playing out below.
Marcus comes up behind me, his hands settling on my hip.
“We can see out, but no one can see in.” He guides me over to the plush armchair positioned in front of the expansive window. “I thought you might want to watch.”
Marcus sits down and pulls me onto his lap so that my back is against his front. The position has my dress riding up my thighs, exposing the lacy tops of my thigh highs. His hands slide up my legs, his fingers teasing along the edge of the delicate lace.
“Look,” he instructs, nodding his head toward a scene off to the left. “Isn’t that what caught your eye downstairs?”
I follow his gaze.
It’s the trio from earlier, the ones I couldn’t tear my eyes away from. Only now, the woman is getting her clit licked while her ass is eaten out.
“What do you think, baby?” His breath is hot against my ear. “Does that make your pretty little pussy clench?”
“Yes,” I rasp out. I’m transfixed by the wanton display, the ecstasy etched on the woman’s face, the way the men seem to be devouring her with an almost feral hunger. “Fuck yes.”
Marcus’s hand slides around my throat and his fingers tighten just enough to make my pulse jump.
“Good. Now spread your legs so we can see who comes first. You or her.”
I obey instantly, letting my knees fall open.
Marcus hooks his fingers in my panties and draws them down my legs, leaving me bare. His hand smooths back up my thigh, fingertips just barely grazing where I’m wet and aching.
I whimper shamelessly, trying to shift my hips to get him where I need him. But his grip tightens, stilling me.
“Patience,” he chides. “We’re going to take this nice and slow. I want you mindless with pleasure by the time I let you come.”
A full body shudder wracks through me at the dark promise in his words.
Slow is the last thing I want right now. I’m so turned on I feel like I might combust if I don’t get some relief soon. But I don’t have a choice. I’m at Marcus’s mercy. And fuck, if that thought doesn’t make me clench and gush even more.
Below, the woman sandwiched between the two men arches her back as she lets out a sharp cry. Even from this distance, I can see her body shaking, hovering on the knife’s edge of release.
“Look at her.” Marcus’s voice is a low growl in my ear as his fingers circle lazily around my clit. “She’s so close. Can you imagine how good it’s going to feel when she finally lets go? When she comes screaming on their tongues?”
My nails dig into his denim-clad thighs as I fight the urge to grind myself against his maddeningly light touch. “Yes,” I gasp out.
He starts to rub my clit then, firm circles that send sparks of agonizing bliss firing through my nerve endings. I moan brokenly, my head falling back against his shoulder as I finally get a taste of the friction I’m so desperate for.
His fingers dip lower, parting my swollen lips and delving into the slick heat of my cunt. Two thick digits pump in and out, curling in a come-hither motion that has me seeing stars. His thumb keeps up that perfect pressure on my clit and the dual stimulation winds the coil in my core tighter and tighter.
“That’s it.” His voice a sinful rasp. “Give in to it. Let me feel you drip.”
Below us, the woman’s cries are getting louder and more urgent. Her thighs start to tremble and the men double down on their efforts, licking and sucking her with wild abandon.
“Come on baby,” Marcus growls, his fingers pumping faster, thumb circling my clit with more pressure. “Come with her. Let me feel this pussy clamp down on me.”
My climax hits with the force of a speeding train.
Ecstasy detonates through my core as I shatter in his arms, pulsing and clenching around his fingers buried deep inside me. I’m only vaguely aware of the guttural moan that rips from my throat, my vision whiting out at the edges.
Through the haze of my own release, I watch the woman stiffen and convulse, her orgasm crashing over her in relentless waves. The men work her through it mercilessly, wringing every last ounce of pleasure from her trembling body.
“Fuck,” Marcus grits out.
Before I can catch my breath, he’s pushing me up to stand on wobbly legs. In a flash, he bends me over the chair and shoves my dress up around my waist.
“Hands on the armrests,” he commands. “Don’t move them.”
I obey eagerly, a fresh gush of arousal flooding my core at his dominance. I hear the clink of his belt buckle, followed by the rasp of his zipper. Then I feel the thick head of his cock notching into my entrance.
“Always so goddamn tight,” he groans.
And then he’s driving into me, spearing me open on one devastating thrust.
He sets a punishing pace, his hips snapping against my ass while his fingers dig into my waist. Each rough thrust has him bottoming out, his heavy sac slapping obscenely against my clit.
“Marcus, Jesus, fuck, I can’t...” I choke out, my words cut off by a particularly deep thrust that has stars exploding behind my eyelids.
Pleasure borderline pain sparks through me, my still sensitive nerve endings firing on all cylinders.
I surrender to the relentless onslaught of sensation, my world narrowing down to the slick slide of his cock in my clenching channel, the lewd sounds of our fucking filling the room.
My knuckles turn white from gripping the armrests so tightly, but I don’t dare let go. Not when Marcus ordered me to keep my hands right where they are. The thought of the punishment he might inflict if I disobey sends a dark thrill zipping down my spine to join the inferno he’s stoking between my thighs.
“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he growls, one hand coming down in a sharp smack across my ass. I yelp at the sudden sting, my inner walls fluttering around him. “Such a good girl for me.”
Pride and pleasure bloom warm in my chest at his praise. I want to be good for him, to take everything he gives me and beg for more. It’s a heady, unfamiliar feeling, this desperation to please.
Marcus keeps up his relentless pace, each powerful drive of his hips pushing me further up the chair until my cheek is pressed against the supple leather. The new angle has him hitting that secret spot inside me that makes my toes curl and my eyes roll back.
“Oh, fuck yes,” I whimper, my voice thready and weak. “Right there. That feels so good.”
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxes through clenched teeth. “Let everyone know who this pretty pussy belongs to.”
I’m too far gone to be embarrassed, too consumed by the delicious drag of his thick length splitting me open again and again. Moans and fractured pleas spill from my lips, my volume rising to fill the room.
Below us, the club pulses with a sexual energy all its own. But I’m only peripherally aware of the erotic sights and sounds filtering in from the main floor. My entire focus is pinpointed on the man currently drilling me into incoherence.
“I’m so close,” I pant desperately, my thighs starting to tremble from the strain of holding myself up. “Please, I need to come. Make me come!”
Marcus curses breathlessly, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
“Fuck. Do it then. Come on my cock like the good girl you are.”