Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
APOLLO
The mouth on Ophelia Drakos gets my dick hard. She’s so used to being a boss that she doesn’t think twice about telling me to fuck off. I can see why Ares is obsessed with her. But we have one goal—take down Belen Drakos.
Fucking around with Ophelia is a bad idea and only complicates matters.
Besides, she can be a real asset to us. We’ve only lived with the Drakos for two weeks, and already they have exposed the cracks in their foundation.
If Belen doesn’t sign over a quarter of Olympus at the end of the month, his daughter might kill him.
I don't put it past her.
Ophelia glares at me as we arrive at Olympus. Her words still linger in my mind, gnawing at me like an annoying pest.
So what if I fucked him? Are you jealous it wasn’t you?
She knows how to push our buttons.
I’m jealous of any man who enjoys making her come.
Not like I will touch her.
But I can watch her with my brothers. They have no problem with my demands and will fuck her however I want.
Anything to make me happy.
Constantine opens the door, tipping his head to the side, gesturing for me to leave. I tap my elbow into his meaty arm as I exit the limo and give him a stern glare.
He gives me a look that says, “I’m watching you.”
I don’t understand why Ophelia is so insecure about her body when she has three men ready to kill each other for her. Ares would fight Constantine to the death for one night with Ophelia.
Out front, a line wraps halfway around the block.
The club is two stories high, with rooftop access.
In the basement, there’re a members-only sex club with a five-year wait list to join.
That’s why Belen conceded to Ophelia. Whatever she’s done to the place has driven up the interest. The girls must be top-notch for wealthy men to pay one million annually.
Constantine rushes ahead of us to open the back door to the club for Ophelia. “After you, Mistress O.”
Mistress O?
Ophelia places her hand on his cheek and smiles, but her eyes are on me. She’s such a brat I want to take her over my knee and spank her. Constantine follows her, letting the door go. I slip inside before it hits me.
Dickhead.
It’s bad enough I've got Ares at home laying claim to her. Even Atlas has taken an interest in Ophelia. And now I have to deal with her fucking bodyguard? This girl is going to be more of a problem than I thought.
We stroll down the corridor accented with black walls and gold mirrors. I glimpse Ophelia in the glass, staring at her ass and those thick thighs that look good in black leather pants.
Her heels click on the black-and-gold tiled floor to the last door on the right.
Ophelia pushes it open and stops to look at her bodyguard.
“Connie, can you pop by the office and get an update from Sam? I need to know how much we’ve taken in tonight?
” Constantine nods, and she says, “And can you see if the new girl’s here yet?
I want to give her a few pointers before she starts. ”
He smiles as she touches his face again. Then he looks at me. “You’d better watch out for her while I’m gone. No funny business, Mr. Demetriou.”
“Don’t worry, Connie.” I get in his face to challenge him despite his size. Even Ares would have trouble taking him down. “She’s got all the man she needs right here.”
“Apollo,” she groans. “No need to start trouble.” She gives Constantine a sweet smile. “He’ll behave. You know I can handle him.”
“Of course, you can,” he says, walking in the opposite direction.
“Are you sure you’re not fucking him?” I ask as we descend a narrow staircase into the depths of the club. “He’s possessive.”
Ophelia holds on to the thin railing as we enter the basement. “And if I were, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
Ophelia turns to face me at the bottom of the staircase and points at the door to our right. “Once we enter the club, I’m not Ophelia anymore. I’m Mistress O.”
It’s so dark inside the club I have to blink to adjust my eyes.
Loud, sensual music blares over the sound of men grunting and women moaning.
There’s slapping and sucking. I can make out only shapes as we pass a few open rooms. A soft red glow illuminates the bodies of several men and women, but I can’t make out their faces.
Ophelia opens another door to our right and leads me inside.
It’s not as dark as the club, but the room is barely lit.
Candles burning on the oak desk cast a glow over the space.
A small sitting area with a couch and table is on the right.
Ophelia doesn't say a word and slips behind the changing screen to the left.
She removes her shirt and tosses it onto the top of the screen. “There’s a carnival mask on the table if you want to wear one. Most of our clients do.”
I walk over to the table and grab a black mask from a pile. “How about you? Do you prefer to remain anonymous?”
“Sure.” She steps out from the screen, wearing the same tight, black leather pants but has swapped out her blouse for a black-and-gold corset. “I wear a special mask.”
The blood rushes to my cock with her tits hanging out of the corset. Her dark hair hangs over her shoulder in long tendrils. Those plump lips are several shades darker than before, shining with red lipstick. I want to see how that color looks on my dick.
I’m staring so hard I don’t hear her the first time. So, Ophelia waves to gain my attention and points her finger. “Can you hand me the mask with the gold feather?”
My heart beats faster when she covers her eyes with the mask and fastens it at the back of her head.
This isn’t Ophelia.
She’s Mistress O.
Constantine enters the room with a short, blonde girl with long hair that brushes her perky tits. They’re tiny compared to Ophelia’s, but she’s cute and young. Men would pay good money to fuck her.
“I have to train the new girl,” Ophelia tells me. “You can watch if you like or go upstairs with Constantine and get started in your new office.”
Train her?
Like hell, I’m leaving. I love to watch. I want a front-row seat to Ophelia giving sex tips.
“I’ll stay.” I flash a charming smile that disarms her. “Maybe you can give me a few pointers.”
It’s not like I let women touch me. The thought of having tiny hands with long fingernails trailing down my body makes me sick. Without fail, that night flashes into my mind every time. The night that still gives me nightmares.
Four years of torture.
I can’t stand the feel of a woman’s hand around my dick. Only my own. It’s like that night has never left me. I want to throw up whenever I try to be with a woman.
Sometimes I do.
Ophelia tosses her hair back and laughs. “Oh, you’re not getting any action in this club, lover boy.” She extends her hand to the new girl. “Come with me, Annabelle.”
She doesn’t know how much I don’t want any action. The O Club could very well become my new favorite place. Plenty of men like to watch other people fuck.
My secret is safe here.