Wicked and Bound (Wicked Lovers: Soldiers For Hire #10)

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

T he following morning, the thick cream envelope slid under their door just after sunrise, its red-lined interior visible even before Nash picked it up. His stomach knotted as he read the elaborate script:

You are cordially invited to an exclusive gathering of select masters and merchandise tonight at midnight in the Rose Room. Join us for an evening of public play and private pleasures. Costumes will be provided. Your participation is eagerly anticipated.

Nash’s jaw clenched. Considering Gray’s warnings about his “lack of effort,” this wasn’t really an invitation. It was a command performance.

He watched Haisley sleep, her face finally peaceful. He hated to shatter that calm and drag her deeper into this nightmare. But since coming to the Velvet Cove, he’d tried to shield her from the surrounding horrors, and it had backfired.

She’d been so brave, but last night he’d seen the shadows in her eyes, noticed her facade fraying. He’d realized that, in trying to protect her, he’d put distance between them that made her feel vulnerable and alone.

As much as he hated exposing her to more danger, they stood a better chance of surviving if they worked together. She might not be an operative, but she was smart and observant. And he could use all the help he could get.

When she stirred, he handed her the invitation. The color drained from her face as she read, but she lifted her chin. “I suppose you’ll be…taking me to this evening’s festivities?”

He wanted to gather her close and promise everything would be okay. Instead, he watched her hands tremble as she set the invitation aside. “You’ll do everything I tell you to. Or there will be consequences.”

Haisley bit her lip and sent him a submissive nod, eyes downcast. He had to give her credit. She was playing her part perfectly.

The day crawled by until two boxes arrived that evening. Nash’s contained a floor-length black cloak and an ornate mask that would cover most of his face. Haisley’s made his blood run hot—then cold. The completely sheer black lace dress would hide nothing. The tiny heart-shaped pasties and scrap of black silk masquerading as underwear would provide the merest wisp of coverage.

She stared at the outfit in horror.

Nash took her hand. “Come with me.”

He guided her to the beach, where waves would cover their whispered conversation. Dutifully, she followed.

Under the rising moon, they walked close together. He’d give anything to squeeze her hand, reassure her. Since he couldn’t, he grabbed her arm and gave it a yank that looked more vicious than it was. “We need to talk.”

“About tonight?”

“I’ll be doing my part,” he murmured. “But I need you observing everything and everyone, too. Point out anyone you recognize. Keep tabs on who talks to whom and how people interact. Pay particular attention to anything out of the ordinary.”

“Everything here is out of the ordinary.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“But I won’t let you down,” she vowed.

“I know. But be careful, Hais. You’ve got to look curious, not scheming.”

“We’ll be expected to…perform, I’m guessing.” Her voice caught. “But we won’t be the main event this time, right?”

Nash nodded. “We’ll be background players. Just follow my lead. I won’t let anyone come between us.”

He wished he could say more to put her at ease, but false reassurances did her no good. Since Gray’s attention had turned to them, this island was getting more treacherous. Sugarcoating that fact only put her in more danger.

Back in their suite, a spa attendant—not Karliah—arrived to do Haisley’s hair and makeup. When she emerged, Nash forgot how to breathe.

Haisley had been transformed into a fantasy—copper hair falling in loose waves, exotic eyes huge behind her slip of a mask, lips a flattering red. The sheer dress clung to every curve, leaving nothing to the imagination.

She looked incredible. And resolute. She wanted to take these bastards down, too.

He fastened his cape, and they headed to the Rose Room.

As Nash pulled the door open, incense smoke curled through air already thick with lust and fear. Men in jewel-toned capes prowled, their masks—exactly like his—rendering them eerily identical. Their women trailed behind in tiny wisps of silk and lace, eyes either vacant or terrified. A dangerous anticipation gripped the room, as if every man here was waiting, breath held, for the signal to do his worst.

Haisley’s step faltered when she glimpsed the scene. As he led her into the party, Nash caught her gaze through their masks, trying to convey a calm he didn’t feel.

Hooded figures emerged from hidden doors in the octagonal room and lined the perimeter between the eight giant pillars, one at each corner. They surrounded the guests. Nash watched, not liking anything about this. Haisley’s cold hands clung to him as she fidgeted nervously at his side.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“Not sure. Since no one is misbehaving yet, I’m guessing the festivities aren’t officially underway.”

“This seems…choreographed, like the start of some ritual.”

“That’s my read.”

A waiter balancing a tray of heavy goblets approached. He handed them each one filled with red wine. Nash swirled his in its cup, clandestinely sniffing at the vino. He didn’t smell anything unusual…but he didn’t trust Gray and his minions one bit.

Cautiously, he guided Haisley through the crowd, searching for a vantage point that would let them observe the party without drawing attention. But she was a magnet for male eyes, and every predatory stare that drifted her way set his teeth on edge. He yanked her nearer, snarling at anyone who dared to come too close.

When a masked man in a burgundy cape grabbed her arm, Nash’s control snapped. With a furious snarl, he shoved the interloper, using his superior height to intimidate. “Touch what’s mine again, and you’ll lose that hand.”

“Come on, man,” he slurred. “Sharing is caring.”

“Too bad I don’t give a shit about you. She’s my breeder.”

Before the stranger could reply, Mr. Gray materialized at Nash’s side. “Mr. King, I’m glad you and your lovely prize have joined us.”

“I didn’t think I had much choice.”

Gray answered with a tight smile. “Come now… We’re here to facilitate your pleasure. So is she.” He turned to Haisley with a pointed stare. “Drink your wine, my dear.”

“I’ll tell my breeder what and when to drink,” Nash growled. “She doesn’t take orders from you.”

“I insist. It won’t hurt her. Look, everyone is drinking our special reserve. It’s a little concoction meant to enhance your experience this evening.”

A glance around the room told Nash that people were, in fact, gulping down the wine like drunken sailors. “We’re enjoying our evening just fine without it.”

Gray cocked his head. “Mr. King, I’m at a loss to understand your distrust. How has anyone here at the Velvet Cove wronged you? Is your breeder not everything you were promised—beautiful? Fiery? And all yours?”

Nash acknowledged Gray’s sick logic. The man had given him everything he’d paid for. If he wasn’t investigating this fucking hellhole, if he really had been a buyer of flesh, he’d be thrilled as hell with his acquisition.

“I’m simply a cautious man.”

“Of course. But our business thrives on its reputation. We deliver the best products and provide the best service, period. We would never presume to damage your investment.” He turned back to Haisley. “Drink up.”

“I prefer her sober.”

“You won’t once you understand. Believe me, this recipe will enhance your evening beyond your wildest dreams.”

He opened his mouth to tell Gray to back the fuck off. But Haisley drained her glass obediently, then cast her eyes down.

“Excellent.” Gray’s smile widened with terrible glee. “You can thank me later, Mr. King.”

Once the prick walked away, Nash turned to Haisley, who sent him a pointed stare. “He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Since they aren’t poisoning people, I drank it. We have to blend in.”

As much as he hated it, she was right. “We have no idea what was in that wine.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

Nash pretended to spill the contents of his cup, then abandoned the goblet on another passing waiter’s tray before he grabbed her hand. Together, they circled the room until they found an alcove partially hidden by a pillar and gauzy curtains. He pulled her against his chest and buried his face in her neck. “Watch who comes through the main entrance and mingles in that area. I’ll keep watch on the other half of the room.”

She managed a bob of her head as she dragged her fingertips across his shoulders. To others, they probably looked engrossed in one another, but her taut posture told him just how alert she was.

Nearby, Nash caught sight of Kane, sporting a sleek new pair of glasses, lounging against the next pillar over. He gave his fellow operative a subtle nod, and Kane strolled toward them.

“A birdie told me the wine is laced with GHB and MDMA.” His low murmur, almost drowned out by chatter, music, and clinking glasses, held a warning.

Dread sank deep in Nash’s gut. Fuck, this night was likely to go south—fast.

“What does that do?” Haisley whispered, wide-eyed.

“Creates a potent euphoric high.”

Kane nodded. “Which will probably heighten your sex drive. So don’t drink it.”

“Too late,” Nash supplied grimly.

Another glance at Haisley told him her pupils were already dilating. A flush was creeping up her cheeks. Hell, her lips even looked swollen.

Around them, others were beginning to wriggle and moan. Men’s hands began wandering, leading females onto their laps or into dark corners.

Suddenly, Haisley swayed against him. “That explains why I’m feeling…strange.”

“Take deep breaths. Do your best to keep your head. Remember, what you’re feeling isn’t real.”

She nodded, but her lids were turning heavy. Seductive. She licked her lips and pressed a hand to her chest, accentuating her now-hard nipples poking her teeny-tiny pasties. Then she rubbed against him in blatant invitation. “Everything feels like a dream. Touch me so I know you’re real…”

His pulse jumped. His cock stiffened.

Damn, now wasn’t the time to lose his head.

Kane sidled up to him, turning his back to Haisley. “Brace yourself. She’ll be begging for it soon.”

“I know.” He hated to touch her while she was impaired, but she’d known they would likely have to join the sexfest about to unfold. And he couldn’t whisk her away to the privacy of their room without raising eyebrows—and suspicions. He could only hope she didn’t fucking hate him tomorrow for what was about to go down.

“I’ll deal,” he told Kane. “You prepared to do your part?”

“Xander and Javier are full of fun tech. Got a camera built into the frame of these glasses.”

“They work?”

Kane nodded. “I did a test run earlier. Walked around the compound, ‘accidentally’ stumbling into a couple of employees-only sections. I played dumb when they tossed me out. Not much of the footage I captured was useful, but I sent back what I could. The bosses are fine-tooth-combing it now.”

At least that was some good news.

Suddenly, Haisley gasped, her stare fixed a few feet away. “Amy…”

He and Kane both followed her gaze and spotted a pretty brunette being roughly guided by a man in an emerald cape. Her eyes were glassy, her steps unsteady. When she stumbled, her “owner” yanked her upright by her hair with a snarl.

The music shifted to something darker, more sexual. Then a resonant gong echoed through the chamber. The crowd’s energy changed, anticipation crackling through the air as everyone suddenly retreated to the edges of the room.

Mr. Gray, wearing his own cape and mask, walked through the throng that had parted for him, then ascended a raised dais topped with an ornate throne. Golden serpents coiled up its sides, their ruby eyes gleaming in the dim light. He raised his arm in a sweeping gesture, commanding the crowd’s attention. Everyone fell silent.

“Welcome, brothers! Tonight we gather to celebrate the ancient rites that bind us. For centuries, men of power have known the truth—that dominion over the flesh empowers our dominion over everything. The Velvet Cove is a place where you can indulge in pure pleasure without rules or shame, which is why discretion is paramount and participation is key. Here, you’re encouraged to be your most hedonistic self. Let’s toast!”

The masked figures from the hidden doors suddenly produced ceremonial bowls of incense. Sickly-sweet smoke curled through the air as they slowly circled the gathered crowd.

“Drink deep,” Gray commanded, raising his goblet. “Let the sacred elixir free your base desires. Tonight we revel in darkness. In lust. In power.”

The assembled men raised their glasses in unison before knocking back their brew. Even the most resistant of their “merchandise” were forced to drink. Amy’s handler roughly tipped her glass to her lips until she choked.

As the drugged wine took hold, the mysterious figures began a low, rhythmic chant. The cloaked masters soon joined in. A sexual electronica beat threaded beneath their voices as they moved in measured steps, herding their captives to the center of the room.

With each rotation, their circle tightened. The chanting grew louder, the music more primal. Women swayed, eyes unfocused. Their handlers swept them up in possessive holds.

The gong sounded again. The chanting stopped. In the sudden silence, Gray’s smile gleamed beneath his mask. “Let the revelry begin!”

His roar had immediate, electric effect. As if a switch had been flipped, the veneer of civilization fell away. Depravity took over as silk whispered against skin and clothes began disappearing. A few masks began to slip as the crowd’s collective inhibitions melted under the influence of drugs and decadence.

Nash pulled Haisley deeper into an alcove, away from the others. She glanced up, her pupils now blown wide as the drugs had fully taken hold. She swayed against him, her skin already feeling feverish under his hands.

Across the room, he caught sight of Gray staring, his narrowed eyes laser-focused and watchful.

“Gray…” Haisley whispered.

“I see him.”

She took in the room, at the twisting bodies and the rising moans. Her breathing roughened. “I’m trying to focus, but the sensations… I ache.”

Son of a bitch.

“I have an idea. Play along,” he murmured against her neck.

“Will you touch me?” she gasped.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do more than touch you, baby.” He didn’t have much choice.

With a growl, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the nearest pillar, braced beneath by a pedestal. He backed her against the column, settling her backside on the edge of the support beneath.

At six-foot-seven, he usually towered over people. Great for seeing inside a crowd. Not so great for blending in. This pose put Haisley a head taller than him and gave him the ability to mingle in with the revelers.

He planted his lips at her throat and let his hands wander her body. “Tell me what you see. Everything.”

When his fingers brushed the side of her breast, she gasped. “When you do that…yes! That feels?—”

“Focus. I know it’s not easy. But this is life or death.”

She exhaled a shuddering breath, then gave him a wobbly nod as he devoured her collarbones and the top swells of her cleavage. “People are having sex. Everywhere. In pairs. In groups. In all ways?—”

“Yeah. Talk to me about Gray. The guards. Anyone not participating.”

“Okay.” She swallowed hard, arching her back.

Fuck, having her tits in his face was like waving a red cape in front of a bull. Before he could stop himself, he dragged his lips under the neckline of her transparent dress, laving her silken skin dangerously close to one nipple.

Haisley gripped his shoulders and arched closer. “Please…”

“Give me something, and I’ll give you something.”

“Tease,” she whimpered. “I’ll get you back.”

She would, too. “C’mon, baby.”

After a calming breath, she scanned her room with glassy eyes, her hips wriggling restlessly. “The guards are rotating clockwise. I noticed them doing that as we arrived.”

So had he, and he didn’t like that every one of them was equipped with an M4. Was Gray abundantly cautious…or expecting trouble?

“They’re switching posts every seven minutes, like clockwork,” Kane murmured, suddenly beside them again. “I’ve been watching for a while.”

Nash nodded, then swept his lips across Haisley’s jaw. “Anything else?”

Her nails dug into his shoulders, and it took her a minute to focus. “One keeps checking his phone, like he’s waiting for something.”

“And Gray?”

“He seems agitated or something.”

Kane adjusted his glasses. “A few minutes ago, he argued with some suit who slipped into the room. I didn’t get a good look at the guy’s face before he left.”

Something to keep an eye on, but nothing useful so far.

Nash slid a thumb across Haisley’s pastie, right over her distended nipple. “Keep looking.”

She sucked in a high-pitched gasp. “Oh… Do that again.”

“Tell me what else you see first.”

Haisley said nothing for long moments. She melted into the column at her back, writhing and moaning as his lips roamed her skin and his hands explored her curves. But her eyes remained open as she scanned the ballroom.

Around them, the cloaked guests grew careless. In the mirror over Haisley’s shoulder, Nash caught glimpses of increasingly explicit acts of debauchery and more masks beginning to slip away.

“Haisley…” He nipped at her lobe. “Talk to me.”

“Yeah, um… The man behind the emerald mask with Amy… I’ve seen him on the news. I can’t recall his name. He chairs some powerful committee in Congress.”

Kane turned, zeroing in on the guy in question. “Representative Keene. I’m sure his wife of thirty years and his constituents who elected him on a family-values platform would be interested in this footage.”

“No doubt,” Nash muttered in disgust, continuing his visual reconnaissance in the mirror. “Tell me about the man in black in the corner?”

Haisley frowned, fighting to focus through the drugs’ growing haze. “He’s got three women hanging on him, but he doesn’t look familiar.”

“A Saudi prince who likes to dabble in illegal weapons,” Kane supplied. “And judging by the company he’s keeping, he likes his girls young.”

“And that’s definitely what’s his name—the guy who won all those Grammys last year—in the corner with a woman on her knees.” Haisley jerked her chin toward a raised dais. “I’d know that hair anywhere.”

Kane sneered. “I’ve always thought his music has no soul. Probably because he doesn’t.”

“Amen,” Nash put in.

The nouveaux riche mixed with old money, political power with entertainment royalty. Each influential face one that would rock headlines if their presence here became public.

“My god,” Haisley breathed, thrusting her breasts in his face in jerky, pleading motions as the drugs fully took hold. “Most of these people have Wikipedia pages.”

“That explains the masks, heavy security, and prohibiting of guests with phones in spaces like this. One photo could end careers,” Kane murmured, still recording the room with his special glasses. “I’ll take another lap. I have a lot to capture.”

“Get as much as you can.”

“Then I should participate some. Blend in a bit more.” Kane winced before he slipped away.

Haisley swayed, hands sliding inside Nash’s shirt as if she was desperate to touch his skin. “I’m trying to focus, but everything is so intense. I feel the blood racing in my body. I ache. I need. Please…”

Around them, others were lost in various states of perversion. He caught Gray’s suspicious stare on them again. They’d draw less attention if they gave in and participated. And Haisley’s pleading wasn’t an act. The combination of GHB and MDMA had stripped away her inhibitions, leaving her nerves raw and her sensations magnified.

“Please,” she begged again, this time loud enough for others to hear. “I’m burning up. I’ll do anything. Make it stop.”

Swallowing a curse, Nash pulled her off the pedestal and dragged her behind it, putting his back against the nearby wall. He lifted her nearly nonexistent dress to her hips with one hand. With the other, he shredded her thong, then made quick work of his fly before he leaned over her back and growled in her ear. “You want me?”

“Yes!” she cried.

“Say it.”

“I want you.”

“Inside you?”

She nodded frantically. “Deep.”

“This won’t be gentle,” he warned.

Her body shuddered with excitement. “Good.”

He’d done what he could to warn her. He hoped she wouldn’t forget or hate him later.

Fingers curling around her thigh, he slipped his hand over her cunt. “You’re wet. And swollen.”

“I’m aching. I’m dying.” She gripped the pillar, scratching at the plaster. “Fuck me…”

Jesus, he was a strong man, but his strength had limits. And she’d just shattered his.

He nudged her feet apart with his own, settled the throbbing head of his cock against her pussy, then rammed inside her in a series of rough, insistent strokes. Her head snapped back. She screamed out in pleasure, the sound blending with the piped-in music, the ecstasy in the air, and the drumbeat of his own need.

“More,” she demanded.

Nash gripped her hips. In a vague corner of his mind, he knew his fingertips would leave bruises, and some part of him wanted to see his marks on her tomorrow. Reveled in the knowledge that he would, in fact. So he gave her what she asked for, shoving his way deeper and deeper inside her until she rose on tiptoes and clung to the pillar, writhing back against his cock.

“Feel good?” he asked as he slipped a pair of fingers over her clit and rubbed in merciless circles.

“Yes…”

“Louder.”

“Yes!”

Her wail galvanized him—desire rushing, blood pumping, heart revving. He pounded inside her, savaging his way inside her again and again. She made desperate sounds, inhuman sounds, twisting and heating under his body.

The hand not working between her legs sailed up her abdomen until he captured her breast. With a tug, he ripped at the front of her dress from neckline to waist. Her tits sprang free. With every thrust, they gave a satisfying bounce against his palm.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god!” she mewled, sending a hot glance with unfocused eyes over her shoulder.

Their stares met. Fused. Nash’s blood sizzled. He hadn’t had a drop of the spiked wine, but with Haisley he felt the crowd and every one of his inhibitions melt away. He strained to get closer to her, deeper inside her. To become one with her.

“You’re tightening on me.”

“I’m close. So close.”

He settled relentless fingertips over her hard clit and rubbed her rhythmically every time he drove inside her. “Come for me.”

She nodded feverishly. “Yes.”

“Tell me you want me to come inside you,” he growled out, aware that he was playing a very dangerous game.

He’d taken her not once, but twice without a shred of protection. He wasn’t gloved up now, and he knew damn well she wasn’t on the Pill. He had no idea where she was in her cycle…and he didn’t care.

She was his. She would always be his. If they could get the fuck off this island unscathed, he was going to put a ring on her finger. Then he’d put a baby in her belly—if he hadn’t already.

“Yes!” Her nails scraped the pillar again, plaster crumbling under her fingers. “Come inside me. I need to feel you. Please. Please…”

Nash had always known he was a little bent, but her sweetly begging him to impregnate her did something to the primal part of his brain. He didn’t know how she felt about that, but nothing was stopping the freight train of this orgasm. It brewed and tingled. His body went taut. A wave of euphoria had his head seemingly floating near the ceiling. And when her entire body locked up and shuddered as her pussy clamped down and pulsed on his cock?

He. Was. Done.

Destroyed.

Annihilated.

The climax robbed him of every breath and every thought except the ecstasy she shouted above the din as he filled her with his seed and their future.

Like a wild man, he pumped into her repeatedly and relentlessly until she unraveled beneath him. Until he swore that she’d milked him dry. Until he ground out three desperate words in her ear.

“I love you.”

Gasping, she gathered the front of her lacy dress from his fist and lifted it above her breasts, then looked over her shoulder at him, her heart in her eyes and mouthed, “I love you, too.”

His chest buckled, the ragged organ inside jolting with thrill. She’d said it. He knew that she meant it. They’d come a long fucking way since their unexplained split two years ago.

Unfortunately, they still had a long way to go, but now he had hope. They had something worth fighting for, and he vowed they’d make it out of here alive so he could live out this dream of forever with her.

Nash pressed kisses along her exposed shoulders and held her tight, reveling in her closeness. He didn’t want to give it up or come out of the moment, but the rest of the room eventually pressed in on his consciousness, reality a splash of cold water.

If the bosses could see him now, they’d be beyond pissed. They’d probably can his ass for losing his head and leaving them both more vulnerable than he should.

On the other hand, Gray’s attention had moved on from them. He surveyed the crowd from his throne…while a shapely blonde knelt between his legs, her head bobbing up and down. The last thing Nash saw on the asswipe’s face now was lust—thank god.

Around the room, the drug-fueled revelry was beginning to wind down. Spent bodies draped across one another while guards subtly herded the more energetic participants toward the center of the room. Apparently, even the powerful grew weary of depravity.

Kane had managed to work his way to Amy. He stroked her bare back, dragged his lips across her naked shoulder, and whispered in her ear as they stood mere inches from her master, now passed out on the floor. She gave Kane a shaky nod and met his stare with hope in her glassy eyes.

When Haisley was in a better frame of mind, she’d be damn glad to know Amy was on Kane’s rescue radar.

For now, Nash reluctantly withdrew and zipped up, then helped a still-dazed Haisley put herself back together before guiding her through the thinning crowd. Her skin burned against his, her eyes unfocused but trusting. Too trusting, maybe. The way she’d given herself over to him tonight, despite the circumstances… It twisted something in his chest.

He wished he didn’t love her total surrender as much as he had. Didn’t crave that kind of submission from her over and over.

What the fuck was happening to him? To them?

As they retreated from the ballroom, he caught their reflection in a wall of mirrors—him in his dark cloak, her practically naked and disheveled, both of them marked by the passion they’d shared. Christ, they looked as if they belonged here.

And that terrified him more than any threat from Gray or his goons.