Chapter THIRTY-TWO
(Matthew)
The castle walls were lit up in red, as usual, but tonight clusters of red balloons bobbed from every fence post. I cringed at that.
“Let grounds know that if a single one of those balloons, if a single piece of one of them goes missing? It’s their ass,” I told the driver of our cart. “We’re too goddamn close to the ocean for this nonsense.”
“Yes sir,” he said with a nod, and I knew that, within minutes, all of the outdoor decorations would be inside.
“You’re serious about the environment for a guy who’s into developing property,” Charlotte mused.
“Look, I try to mitigate my impact as much as possible. Frivolous stuff like this?” I shook my head and scoffed. “Anyway, why are you giving me shit? It’s my birthday.”
She leaned up and kissed my cheek.
We pulled to a stop beneath the porte cochere, and I helped her down. A few members on the stairs greeted us with cheers and birthday greetings, and I smiled and nodded at everyone, thanked them for coming, but my attention was consumed entirely by Charlotte.
She looked adorable and ridiculous in her pink bows and the ultrahigh heels she’d chosen to wear. They were black, like the filigree earrings and necklace she’d added to complete the ensemble.
“Have I mentioned yet that you look incredible?” I murmured, for her ears only, as we walked through the front doors.
“About seventy times. But I like hearing it.” She beamed up at me. “What’s first?”
Having a woman with me who was sexually adventurous—though equipped with far more stamina—was exhilarating and reassuring, but extremely terrifying. “Come with me to my favorite rooms? We’ll do a lap and see what interests us before fully committing. Although, I do have to make an appearance at my official party.”
“Should we go there first?” Charlotte asked. “I don’t want to be rude to your guests.”
A long, high-pitched squeal issued from somewhere in the busy lobby.
“I think my guests are entertaining themselves at the moment,” I assured her.
In fact, I was counting on it. Being the center of attention was fun but exhausting. Plus, I planned to be somewhat distracted by the woman at my side.
“Let’s see what’s happening in the casino, shall we?” I led the way, and she leaned on me, a little bit. I liked that. Yes, I had my cane, and balancing was difficult on my own, but I would accept some extra difficulty from her. I could admit that I had an outdated and ableist mindset with regards to my new disability, as long as that meant I was allowed to shallowly enjoy the fact that she still saw me as strong and stable.
The casino was usually crowded, but with the influx of guests who’d arrived for the party, it was practically Monaco.
“It’s like Vegas in here,” Charlotte said.
“That too.” When I realized she looked up at me questioningly, I said, “I was thinking of somewhere else.”
“Ah.” She didn’t ask me where. “Is this where you were planning to share me?”
I followed her pointing finger to where a guest was already strapped in, helpless, on the seat at the roulette wheel, and grinned. “Some other time. But do you mind if we try our luck?”
She tapped her lips with a finger. “You can try your luck. I’ll watch.”
I winked at her, and we crossed the floor.
“Birthday boy!” the dealer called out in his carnival barker voice. “Make room, everybody.”
The other guests shuffled, opening a large space for Charlotte and me to step up to the padded rail as the wheel spun.
I took off my watch and was about to drop it in when Charlotte asked, “Are you placing an outside bet? An inside bet? What’s the strategy here?”
“Well, I…” I hesitated. “Wait, what?”
“You don’t have a strategy?” Her eyes went wide. “Martingale? Fibonacci? And wait a second, the person in the chair is the prize, right? What happens if the ball lands in the zero slot? Or double zero? Is this European or American roulette?”
“I don’t—”
“No more bets!” the dealer called out.
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know anything about gambling, do you?”
“I do!” I just didn’t know anything about roulette.
“Well, your approach in here is all wrong. I mean, you come up zero and then what? How do you pay off that row bet seventeen-to-one?”
I had no idea. I hated that I had no idea.
There was a gentleman beside her, older, white, with a posh English accent, and he inclined his gray head toward her. “The bets do have monetary value, but it’s neither European, American, or Sands rules. To win the best prize, you have to bet inside on the blank red slot.”
“Leif,” I said, extending my hand to one of our newest—and wealthiest—members. “Where is your lovely wife tonight?”
He half-smiled and nodded toward the chair, where the gorgeous brunette was restrained and sweating, a wearable butterfly vibe strapped down tight against her vulva.
“That’s pure evil,” I told him, in the most complimentary way. “And your husband?”
“Getting fucked in a cage in the BDSM lounge, last time I saw him,” Leif said casually. “Oh, look.”
The ball had ended up in a blank red slot—one of four on the wheel. The table cheered, and a man across the table moved quickly to claim his prize. The brunette—Chloe, though I was certain that wasn’t her real name at all—tipped her head back and jerked against the restraints, clearly in the throes of an orgasm from the vibrator.
The man who’d won her moved between her spread thighs and unzipped his trousers. He grabbed a condom from the basket provided, slid it on, and plunged deep without any preliminaries. The woman shouted, and kept shouting with each hard thrust of the man’s hips that shook the entire chair.
“She’s been up there for an hour,” Leif said proudly. “I do love to watch.”
I glanced down at Charlotte, who stood with a slack mouth, her chest rising and falling as she watched Chloe get fucked. I turned to Leif. “Would you like to try my date?”
“How generous,” he said, adding, “But I think it would be only fair to give the lady some warning.”
He unzipped and pulled out the biggest dick I’d ever seen in person.
“If you’re not up to it—” he began, and Charlotte shook her head vehemently.
I thought it was a denial, until she breathed, “I suppose we’ll have to see if it fits.”
Fuck. I took her by the back of the neck and bent her over the rail with gentle pressure. Leif got a condom from the very back of the basket, where there were a few extra-large options. He stroked himself to full hardness, rolled the condom on, and thoughtfully tossed the wrapper in the waste bin before stepping up behind Charlotte and brushing the tails of her bow aside.
I held my breath as he eased forward; this was a guy who was clearly aware of his own strength, so to speak. I watched Charlotte’s face as the head of his cock finally popped inside. Her eyes boggled, and a choking noise escaped her.
But she never took her gaze off Chloe in the chair, being fucked by her own stranger.
“Are you all right?” Leif asked. “Not too much?”
“It’s a lot,” Charlotte moaned. “But keep going.”
Fuck, it was hot, watching the rim of her cunt stretched tight and thin around that impossibly large cock. I was a little jealous, seeing her enjoy it and not getting to play with that monster myself.
“That’s fucking gorgeous,” I murmured, to Leif, not Charlotte. “Can I touch you?”
“Oh, please do,” he invited me. I gripped the length of him that remained outside Charlotte, pumped my fist back and forth, and enjoyed the way he groaned. Little by little, more of him penetrated Charlotte. I could only imagine how full she must have felt, with the plug in her ass and the thickest, longest cock I’d ever seen stretching her open.
Chloe was coming, hard, screaming as the stranger between her legs pistoned harder against her. I’d seen her in the BDSM lounge before, and the machine room; she lived for rough sex, and the man between her thighs was certainly giving it to her.
Leif, on the other hand, kept things slow and easy. When Charlotte gasped in pain and said, “Far enough,” he never pushed farther, using my hand as a guide. I had only two fingers wrapped around him now, sliding in a tight ring that was aided by Charlotte’s copious wetness. Leif moved one hand beneath her. I knew he found what he’d been looking for when Charlotte moaned and her shoulders sagged, her head dropping to the table.
It didn’t interfere with the betting at all; everyone had stopped to watch.
“They’re all looking at you,” I told her. “They’re all watching you get fucked.”
She shivered and raised her head, her gaze moving around the table to meet those of all the players and companions eyeing her with amusement and lust. That would be enough, I knew. That acknowledgment that she was on display, being fucked in front of everyone, a spectacle for public consumption. She slapped her hands down on the felt and rose up on the balls of her feet, right out of her heels.
“Fuck, it’s so good!” she shouted, putting on a show for them. “It’s so fucking big!”
“Come for me,” Leif growled, bending low over her back. “Let me feel this tight little cunt come all around me.”
With a high, keening wail, she did, her entire body jolting like she’d been touched with a live wire.
Her audience applauded.
Leif pulled out gently and my cock throbbed at the sight of Charlotte’s stretched, gaping pussy. I couldn’t help myself, sliding two fingers into her as she twitched and gasped, struggling to recover.
“This was lovely, thank you.” Leif removed the condom and tossed it in the bin. “You’ll forgive me for not finishing, but the night is young, and I am not.”
I got his drift. “Thank you for attending my party.”
“And thank you for your generous hospitality,” he said with his charming smile that could almost have been classified as a smirk, if his eyes weren’t so friendly. “Do look us up, if you’re ever in the Hamptons?”
“Absolutely,” I said, with a pang of desire that warned I might not ever be truly sexually satisfied if I never managed to get my mouth on that dick.
I didn’t often find myself in the Hamptons, but now I’d have an excuse to try out beach house life.
Charlotte straightened, wobbling in her heels, and I put my arm around her to help her stand. “Um…thank you?” she laughed, blushing and keeping her eyes lowered as she addressed Leif. Like she couldn’t look directly at him in her moment of post-orgasm clarity. “That was…unreal.”
“So I’ve been told.” Leif halted and turned to watch as the stranger beneath his wife’s legs gripped the top of the chair and gave one last, hard shove, grunting and sagging over her. Leif turned back and said, “Enjoy your party.”
“Mr. Ashe?”
I turned at the sound of my assistant’s voice. Miranda was dressed, as always, in all-business fashion. Tonight, she was in charge of making sure the party ran smoothly. I wasn’t sure she’d ever indulged in anything other than work here on the island. Administration seemed to be her kink.
“Miranda,” I acknowledged her.
“The official birthday celebration is starting in minutes. If you wanted to be a part of that?” Her arched brow indicated that yes, I should be a part of it.
“Yes, I’m on the way,” I promised, still holding Charlotte up. “We’ll make our way there.”
“We have you seated on the stage, rather than in your box,” Miranda explained as we left the gaming floor. “Birthday boy, and all.”
“Thank you for feeding my ego.” It was funny because it was absolute truth. To Charlotte, I said, low, “I can’t wait for everyone to see you.”
“I can’t wait to have feeling back in my thighs,” she muttered, but her smile broke through her pretend petulance. “That guy was—”
“I know!” I whispered, laughing, and we followed Miranda out.
The theater was done up with more balloons, towering bunches that reached the ceiling on either side of the proscenium. The wide steps that ran the width of the stage were bisected with a red carpet that led up to an ornate black throne with red leather upholstery. The floor was crowded with guests, and as we crossed the room a smattering of applause grew into full-on cheers.
An announcer in the DJ booth egged them on. “Esteemed guests of Ascend Red, please welcome your host, the owner of Ascend Red, Matthew Ashe!”
That was a bit much. Miranda must have added that touch. As we negotiated the shallow steps, he went on, “Please join all of us here at Ascend Red in wishing Mr. Ashe a very happy birthday.”
As much as I loved my birthday and all the attention that came with it, I cringed through “The Birthday Song.” How was one supposed to react to a room full of people, some of them naked, singing to one?
“That’s embarrassing,” Charlotte whispered, and took my hand.
I laughed and shook my head. “You think this is too much.”
“Your whole life is too much,” she said wryly.
That hit me in a sore spot I hadn’t expected. Had spending this time here soured her opinion of me? When we’d met, I’d been a guy in a baseball cap trying to avoid an alligator. She’d treated me like a regular guy, not a billionaire who needed to be impressed. After this, would she see me as some needy asshole who wanted constant, lavish adulation?
The interminable musical interlude ended in a round of cheers. Champagne corks popped around the room and waiters moved into position to offer glasses to the assembled guests.
“Let’s all raise a toast to the man of the hour,” the DJ added.
And then “For He’s A Jolly Good Fellow” started up.
A waiter approached us with a bottle of champagne, and Charlotte clapped her hands. “Wait, wait, don’t open it! There’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”
She dropped to her knees in front of me, unhooking her top, and for a moment I thought I was about to get a much, much better toast. But she tossed the bra aside, flicked her ponytail over her shoulder, and said, “Do that thing where you open it, and it splashes everywhere. It’s so filthy.”
“That’s what’s filthy about tonight?” I reached for the bottle. The waiter had already begun to loosen the muselet. I finished, then gave the bottle a hearty shake before popping the cork loose with my thumb. The carbonation exploded a stream of white foam from the mouth of the bottle, all over Charlotte’s perfect tits.
Okay, yeah. I got the filth inherent in the visual metaphor. The fact that it wasn’t the substance it was meant to mimic somehow made it dirtier than if I had come across her chest myself, and whoops of laughter from the crowd followed as she rose up on her knees, took the bottle, and ran her tongue around the neck.
Wheels rumbled across the theater floor, and I looked down to see Miranda and a few other staff members moving the enormous cake into position as the singing ended. Everyone raised their glasses, the DJ played a drum roll, and the top of the fake dessert flew open.
“I knew it,” Charlotte chided me slyly.
“Wait,” I said, because I knew exactly what would pop out of that cake.
A gorgeous, large-breasted woman with deep golden skin and a lean white man with dark hair jumped up enthusiastically, revealed from the waist up.
“Well played,” Charlotte acquiesced.
“That’s not the best part.”
The man’s eyes closed, his head lolled on his shoulders, and the woman clung to him, her long, silky black hair falling into the frosting. They were both lost in ecstasy, unable to hold back. The man gripped the messy rim of the cake top, gave it a push, and it fell open, revealing two more women inside, on their knees, sucking and fingering frantically.
The two recipients must have been getting a full work up since the moment they’d all piled into the ingenious contraption, and they reached their climaxes almost at the same time; the woman’s knees buckled and her mouth dropped open in a moan we couldn’t hear over the delighted reactions of the guests.
Charlotte wound one arm around my thigh and looked up at me with adorably pleading eyes. “Let me give you my gift now.”
I reached down to caress her face. “In a little while. We don’t have to stay long, but I should at least thank people for coming.”
“No, I mean, here,” she emphasized. “Right here.”
She climbed to her feet and walked away from me without another word, right down to the big cake. Staff members were helping the performers down and closing up the top.
As I watched in disbelief, Charlotte leaned over, pressing her body into the frosting and bracing her arms on the rigid structure beneath. She looked back at me over her shoulder.
“Well?” She asked.
How could I refuse?