Chapter 18 #2
I half expect the party to be in one of the large apartments, but the two men lead us downstairs, where hallways have lower ceilings, and the carpets—a rich red shade.
Whoever’s organizing this secret event, they must be doing it with the silent acknowledgement of the management.
Otherwise, Carl and Timoly wouldn’t have led us into an ‘Entertainment Area’ within the hotel.
“It feels like going to a speakeasy during the Prohibition,” Eli whispers and bumps his small antlers against my stiff wolf ears.
I have to admit his enthusiasm is rubbing off on me.
But it’s when he squeezes the top of my thigh that I start to wonder whether the orgy offers private rooms where we could let off some steam.
Do I regret not getting off with him when he offered earlier?
Maybe a little, but it will make fucking him later all the sweeter.
“Welcome to our kingdom,” Carl announces as he opens a door at the end of the underground corridor with no windows.
I half expect that this is an ambush by some of Sullivan’s stragglers and stiffen, ready to maim and kill, but no, we are led through a thick velvet curtain to a room resonating with a mix of slow, sensual electronic music and moans.
I’m hit with a dense cloud of diffused perfume, liquor, and distilled lust. The lights are dimmed, the whole space has a warm coloring of reds, a few pink spotlights, and black walls that cool off the boudoir vibe.
While a few Christmas decorations feature here in the form of tinsel and pine, there are no baubles.
After all, no one wants to risk breaking one and then sitting their naked ass on it.
Just as Carl and Timoly said, clothing is optional.
Some men, like us, are fully dressed, while others don’t even have a single sequin to cover their nakedness.
I have my arm around Eli’s waist as he looks around wide-eyed.
Closer to the door, men seated on black leather couches talk, drink, and watch a stripper in a jockstrap resembling a Santa hat dance around a pole.
But my hearing is just as sharp as my sense of smell.
Farther down, behind wide open doors, there’s skin slapping against skin, moans loud enough to be heard over the music, and I spot a naked man passing from that room to this one.
He is wearing a half-mask that transforms him into a rabbit-human hybrid with a huge erection jutting from above a leather cock ring.
Carl waves his hand toward the couches and the other room. “If you’re feeling lost or need anything, just approach the bartender. Other than that, have fun!” Did he wink at Eli? He better not have.
“Merry Christmas,” I mumble into Eli’s ear as strangers assess the new arrivals. It’s not too crowded. I can see, perhaps ten guys, though I assume there’s more of them where the horny rabbit came from.
“Oh my, God,” Eli whispers and squeezes my hand. “Is it okay to look? I’ve never been to something like this.”
“We can later go farther in. How about a drink first?” I ask, leading him to the bar manned by a bartender dressed in the same outfit I’ve seen on all other staff members. I order a mocktail for myself, and a pina colada for Eli, then lean against the counter to take in the atmosphere.
A man wearing a green velvet suit eyes us with something more than curiosity, but I choose to ignore him and focus on my lover, who stares at the stripper showing off his considerable skills.
“You can look, but don’t touch,” I tell him, whispering straight into his silver hair.
Later tonight, I’ll pull the band off his hair and make it messy again, the way I like to see him after a long fuck.
Eli holds up his hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t! I’m just curious about it all. You’re still the most handsome guy here anyway.” He grins and gives me a kiss. “But you… You won’t miss this, right? Picking a different guy each Friday?”
How is that even a question when I feel so safe in his presence I’ve dozed off with my head in his lap?
But he is serious, so I clear my throat and bring his hand to my lips.
“I wasn’t picking them. I was binging on enough sex to tide me over to the next week.
They really were just bodies, because I wasn’t allowed any attachments,” I say as my gaze drifts toward two laughing guys on the other end of the bar.
One of them wears only a candy-cane patterned jockstrap, the other—a tight Santa outfit, complete with a fake beard.
“No, I’m not Santa!” he exclaims to his friend. “Don’t you see the wavy wig?” He points to his head and picks up the hat to show off his silver hair. “I’m the Festive Fugitive.”
The other man rolls his eyes. “Hm. Bit grim.”
“Is it? The guy took out some serial killer-level psycho. Good riddance, if you ask me. Literally gay twink icon. Hope they never find him. What do you guys think?” He pulls down his beard to have a sip of his margarita and looks at us. “Festive Fugitive. Yay or nay?”
Eli smirks. “What do you think, Wolf? Yay or nay?”
A warm shiver descends my back when he calls me that, but I don’t let anyone see how much of an effect this has on me and shrug.
“Law is corrupt. That is why we should all be pro-justice rather than pro-law. If I ever get the chance to meet the Festive Fugitive, I’m going to give him the head of his life. ”
The two men down the bar laugh and raise their glasses while Eli hides his big smile behind his pina colada. He’s so adorable I want to take him to the back rooms already. Me as the wolf, him as my prey.
“He might be the only guy I’d let my boyfriend fuck who isn’t me.” Eli winks at me and pulls on my hand. Seems he’s ready to explore.
“Isn’t he right here, though?” the Santa asks, spreading his arms to show off the way the red coat opens to reveal a smooth chest.
“I’m sure there will be takers,” I tell him, making it playful so his ego remains unbruised as I let Eli pull me toward the doorway dividing us from a room that smells of sweat, cum, and poppers.
“I think it would stress me out to be here on my own,” Eli whispers as his gaze drifts off to ogle a couple going at it on a couch under red lights.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m more of a boyfriend type. I don’t want some stranger’s hands on me, no matter how hot he might be.”
“Good,” I say and sip on my mocktail as the other room reveals itself in its dusky glory.
“For the other guy,” Eli teases with a smirk. He knows me too well.
It’s not that big of a party, but there are more than enough guys within sight to satisfy everyone.
The furniture is clad in easily removable covers some poor soul will need to launder first thing tomorrow, but it’s Christmas Eve, and quite a few of the men I’m seeing are intent on collecting their presents early.
The colorful spotlights pulse to the rhythm of the music, as if this whole interior, and all the bodies within it are sharing the same pulse.
“He better keep his hands to himself,” I say, watching a broad-shouldered guy fuck someone in the very back. Three weeks ago, this could have been me, desperate to satisfy all my cravings on a single Friday evening.
Now I’m not beholden to any masters, yet here I am, craving the same man every single day.
As we drift to a wall offering an excellent view of the entire space, I sense Eli’s pulse quickening when I move my thumb over his wrist.
“I bet you now regret you didn’t get off,” he teases and slides his hand over my cock.
Bad boy.
“That’s… so cruel,” I whisper, retracting my hips until my ass is flat against the wall. But hope rises inside me. He can’t remove his mask, or reveal any identifying marks, but he could jerk me off…
Would that be enough to let off some steam at this point? I do like that even with all the studs and fucking around, his attention is still on me.
Eli downs his drink and grins. “I don’t know how I’d feel about someone watching us fuck. I think I’m too shy for that after all. Even in the mask. I want only you to see my body open up and my legs tremble.”
Oh, he is so doing this on purpose. Planting the idea in my head so a mix of jealousy and arousal twists me up. I’d say he will regret it later, but he’ll probably enjoy the hell of the rough fuck I’ll unleash on him.
“You’re teasing me,” I say, pulling him back to the bar space. “Is that what good boys do to their boyfriends?”
“Who said I’m a good boy?” Eli asks, picking up my hand and licking the sensitive part between my thumb and forefinger. The shiver it elicits goes all the way to my dick. He’s drunk. But I like seeing him like this. Free and playful.
He’s quite possibly the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. How can I resist him?
“You two probably can’t wait to join the fun in the other room,” Timoly says, appearing at our side out of nowhere, his eyes flickering behind the simple mask he’s wearing. I swear that name has to be fake.
I chuckle and lean in to kiss Eli. “Hardly. I don’t think this is our scene.”
The man who invited us here seems to have had an agenda from the start, because he barely keeps back a scowl. “Understandable. I also prefer a more… intimate setting, if you catch my drift.”
He wants a threesome.
Or a foursome with Carl, or whatever the other man’s name was, in the peace of their apartment.
“Sure you can’t talk your wolf into a bit of an adventure?” Timoly asks, stepping closer to Eli, and setting my senses on high alert. He thinks Eli is the weak link and can be swayed. Or that I’m under Eli’s heel, which isn’t untrue. Both options piss me off though.
Eli shakes his head. “Yeah, I don’t think my wolf wants a different guy.”
I like that he now has the confidence to know that.
To my astonishment, Timoly doesn’t get the hint. He slides his hand around Eli’s waist and looks me straight in the eye as if it’s some sexy game we’re playing when he’s about to lose his damn life. “You wanna watch me fuck your boy?” Timoly asks, voice thick with lust.
I don’t even get to think before my hand is tight around his wrist, twisting the bastard’s arm. He’s releasing a trail of hisses, but I only let go once his dirty hands are no longer on my lamb.
I growl, showing him all my teeth. Fury is like a drug soaking my brain, but I’m still reining it in, still in control until that fucker opens his stupid mouth again.
“Jesus fucking Christ, man! It’s not like his sloppy hole is such a prize!”
My blood is on fire, but Timoly is ready for my fist and leans to the side, escaping the punch meant to make him bleed. Not for long. I step forward, caging him to the wall, and when the stink of fear teases my senses, I sink my teeth into his cheek and bite until the flesh gives.
He screams out and pushes on my shoulders in desperate panic, but I don’t let go.
Play with fire, prepare to get burned. He tries to kick me in the balls, but I expect it and kick his feet from under him.
Timoly might have the guts, but he’s no fighter.
We go down, but I don’t let go of his cheek until I taste blood.
The screaming intensifies. He pounds on my chest, but when he tries to punch my head, I grab his wrist. This is the fucking hand he slid to my Eli’s waist. When he wiggles it around instead of accepting his punishment, I shift my fingers to the right spot and snap the bone in his wrist.
I didn’t want to cause a scene. I really didn’t. But then he asked for it with his goddamn shit-spilling mouth. His blood on my tongue only fuels my anger.
He thought he’d be fucking my boyfriend?
The only thing that’s getting fucked is the hole I’m making in his cheek.
“Wolf! No!” Eli yells, and I realize this is the third time he’s saying that as he pulls on my shoulder.
“Call the cops!” the bartender screeches somewhere in the background.
Carl and a stranger that might as well be made of air are ready to stop me when I get up, but when I stare them down from behind my mask, with Timoly’s blood dribbling down my chin, both of them lose their courage.
My gaze drifts to Eli’s face, and the shock painted over it makes the dog inside me cower in shame.
I’ve made a mess of things, and now he’ll have to pay the price.
“Let’s go,” I mumble, placing my hand on his shoulder and pushing him forward.
Timoly’s crying, Carl is once more considering a step forward, but the growl I make at him comes from somewhere deep within my chest. It’s primal, protective, and territorial.
He steps aside, and Eli runs as fast as his limp allows, knowing I am right behind him.
Fuck.
At least his mask is still on.