Chapter 22 Knox
As the water cascaded over my body, I hoped for a sense of clarity, maybe. Instead, my thoughts remained hot, heavy, and relentless. I pressed my palms to the cool tile, steam rising around me like a slow exhale. However, there was no easing the tightness in my chest or lower abdomen.
Dana.
If it was her—if the Dana I’d tasted wine with, flirted with, imagined sin and sex with was the same Dana tied to Ajaih’s circle... shit. My body responded before I gave it permission. Arousal thrummed through me, thick and persistent. I gritted my teeth and let the spray beat down harder.
What if it was her? What if this night didn’t just blur lines, but obliterated them? I stepped out of the shower, water trailing down my chest as I toweled off. The mirror was fogged, my reflection little more than a shadow with fire-emblazoned eyes staring back at me.
I pulled on black Gucci slacks, smooth as sin and tailored like they were made for me.
The black silk shirt was left unbuttoned just enough to tease the chest beneath, my own little brand of foreplay.
Gold accessories glinted in the soft lighting: the solid weight of my Rolex Day-Date 40, a David Yurman Cuban link chain and bracelet that hugged my skin like heat, and the sharp gleam of my gold bottom grill.
I completed the look with suede Gucci loafers.
Black on black. Sinful. Intentional. Dangerous.
When I stepped into the living room, Ajaih was already there.
And God, she floored me.
Cream silk kissed her curves like it had been poured over her.
The crystal horsebit detail at her waist glimmered with every step she took, drawing my eyes to the curve of her hips and the sway of her thick thighs, glistening, oiled to temptation beneath the split of her dress.
Her long, bone-straight hair fell over her shoulders like a sheet of sandy-blonde satin, and the sparkle from her diamonds was only rivaled by the gleam in her eyes.
I wanted to bend her over the couch right then and there, but I knew if I did, if I fucked her hard and rough, we wouldn’t make it out the house.
Her strappy Gucci heels made her legs look endless. Her makeup was soft, sensual, lips glossed like they’d already been kissed. I planned to ruin it all later.
“Damn,” I breathed.
She smirked and turned slowly, “Mmmm, Mr. Fairfax, you look sinfully delicious,” she floated to me, rubbing her hand down my chest to the bulge in my slacks as she kissed me.
“Indulge then, baby,” I replied lustfully.
Maverick walked out of the bedroom a second later, and my pulse quickened again.
He was perfection, his dark skin covered in a chocolate silk pant suit that made his muscular frame even more defined with every step.
Gold rings adorned his fingers, and matching fangs flashed when he grinned at me.
He smelled like spice and sex, and it took everything in me not to press him up against the doorframe and see just how long we could make “a quickie” last. But with the three of us, nothing was quick.
Every touch lingered. Every moan mattered.
And tonight, we had a rendezvous to attend.
Provocateur was humming when we arrived. Dim lights, velvet shadows, low beats vibrating through the floorboards like a slow seduction. The scent of expensive cologne and sweeter things wrapped around us like smoke.
Ajaih spotted them first.
“Caleb! Ahmir!” she called, and the warmth in her voice made me smile.
Two men stepped toward us—Caleb, tall and commanding with the build of an ex-athlete, and Ahmir, smooth and lean, with a voice that rumbled even in greeting.
Introductions were easy. Natural.
Maverick stepped forward, offering his hand.
“Man, I’ve followed your career forever,” he told Caleb, “Big fan of what you’re doing now with the college team.”
“Respect,” I added, “It takes guts to lead young women in that space.”
Caleb nodded, smiling, “Appreciate that. It’s work, but it’s heart work.”
Then came the moment that made something stir deep inside me.
Caleb pulled Ajaih into his arms, kissing her slowly, deliberately. Ahmir followed, whispering something that made her laugh, her hand gripping his bicep.
Maverick and I stood there, watching.
And to my surprise?
I was turned on as hell. “Mav, my dick is hard watching them make her blush. I’m fantasizing about you deep stroking me while my baby gets deep dicked, too,” I said as Maverick’s head slowly turned to look at me.
“You won’t have to fantasize my love, because I plan to be inch after inch deep in you tonight,” he whispered as he kissed me sensually before biting and sucking my bottom lip.
Watching her be adored, cherished, and worshipped, it didn’t sting; instead, it ignited a fire within her.
Ajaih glanced back at us, cheeks flushed and glowing, “Where’s Yanna and Dana?” she asked.
Caleb gestured toward the stage. “They’ll be here soon. You’re gonna want front row for this,” he said, looking at both Mav and me.
I furrowed my brow, “This?”
As if on cue, the lights dipped lower, the bass pulsing deeper, and the room suddenly became expectant. A woman in all black took the stage. Her voice sliced through the haze.
“Welcome, lovers and voyeurs,” she purred into the mic, “Are you ready to be pleased tonight?”
The crowd answered with eager whoops and applause.
She smiled, “Then allow me to present… Mistress Y and her good girl, Dana.”
Mistress Y had emerged first, all leather and power, heels clicking with deliberate grace, but it was Dana who stole the air from my lungs.
The name hit like lightning. The spotlight flared.
And there she was. Blonde. Bold. Completely fucking nude, the diamond leash glistened around her elongated neck.
Her honey-brown skin shimmered under the lights as Mistress Y walked her out onto the stage, stopping only to take her place on her knees with her head lowered in complete submission.
My Dana.
My mouth went dry, and suddenly, I knew this night was about to rewrite every rule I thought I understood about desire, boundaries, and fate.
I didn’t miss the smirk tugging at her lips, making one thing very clear: she liked the attention. Thrived on it.
Every movement she made was poetry. Dripping in control and surrender as Mistress Y circled her like a hunter, trailing a leather crop down Dana’s spine, teasing her round, bare ass. Dana arched just enough to drive the crowd wild.
And me? I was wrecked.
My dick pressed hard against the front of my slacks, a slow, aching throb. I shifted in my seat, trying to play it cool, but Maverick noticed. His gold fangs flashed as he leaned close, voice low.
“Should’ve taken you up on that quickie.”
I groaned lightly, the smirk remained on my face, though my eyes never left the stage.
Mistress Y tugged her chin up, fingers threading through Dana’s blonde pixie cut, forcing her gaze to meet the crowd.
Our eyes locked.
She knew.
That smirk deepened.
She fucking knew.
Ajaih sucked in a breath next to me, no longer able to temper her arousal. Her hand slipped into mine under the table, her nails gently scratching my palm like she could feel every ounce of my tension.
The moment Dana opened her mouth and Mistress Y drizzled wine straight from a crystal decanter, slow and sensual, every drop landing on her tongue. Her lips closed around the stream like a kiss. Like a promise.
The crowd gasped.
I groaned.
She swallowed. Licked her lips.
And winked—right at me.
“The fucking wine lady,” I mumbled to myself as I tried to adjust my dick, my heart slamming into my ribs, both Maverick and Dana looking at me, eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“I met her earlier at a bistro where I was having lunch and we ended up talking, having wine, flirting, and exchanging numbers,” I whispered to Maverick and Ajaih, “But I had no idea she was the Dana you’d been talking about.
I would never disres—,” before I could finish the sentence, Ajaih wrapped her soft hand around my throat and whispered, “I can’t wait to watch you plow in and out of her pretty little pussy, Baby,” kissing my lips before turning her attention back to the stage.
Maverick chuckled, biting his bottom lip, “Well damn.”
Mistress Y didn’t waste time as she slipped behind Dana, one hand wrapping possessively around her throat, the other pulling her tighter by the waist. Her voice coiled around the room.
In a sensually low, commanding tone laced with the intimacy of the moment, she spoke. “Let them see how you fall apart for me.”
Dana’s breath halted briefly, her spine bowing like her body already knew what was coming.
Mistress Y’s fingers trailed down her front, slow and deliberate, slipping along her bare skin inch by inch, revealing the trembling bloom of Dana’s need.
Her thighs quivered as Mistress Y’s fingers dipped between them, Dana’s head falling back against her Mistress’s shoulder in a silent plea.
I couldn’t look away.
Dana's mouth parted, her eyes half-lidded, wholly given over. Mistress Y toyed with her dripping wet pussy, drawing slow circles, deep strokes, keeping her on the edge, pushing her higher, then pulling her back with a wicked smile.
Ajaih exhaled a moan beside me, her thighs shifting as Maverick’s hand eased under the split of her dress, stroking her core softly, as moans and pants escaped her lips, both of them just as entranced as we watched, bound by the sight of Dana unraveling, her body dancing to Layanna’s rhythm.
“Beg for it, like a good girl,” Mistress Y whispered against her ear, the mic picking it up, letting everyone hear Dana’s trembling whimper.
“Please… Mistress. Please let me cum. I’ve been such a good girlllll.”
Layanna smiled, her aura the complete representation of sex itself as she pressed two fingers inside Dana, her thumb circling the peak of her swollen clit. Dana’s body jerked, her breath a broken sob. The sound she made was music; the rawness was sweet, shattering.