Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
ANABELLE
My nerves make me feel as if a confetti bomb went off in my stomach.
It’s the night of the sex club, and the theme for tonight is ancient Rome, so I’m dressed in a gauzy white dress with gold straps.
It’s more like two pieces of fabric that hang in front and behind with a gold belt to cinch them in.
Beneath, I wear white lace panties, and I have a gold leaf crown on my head.
I give myself one last check in the mirror before turning around. “Who decides what the theme will be?” I ask Asher, who’s still getting changed in his closet.
“The director of the night.” He steps out, and I have to stop my mouth from falling open.
Asher is dressed like a Spartan and reminds me of Gerard Butler in the movie 300. He’s lucky I don’t strip him right here and now because he looks that damn good with the red cape and his chest on display.
He pauses when he sees me. “You look like a goddess.”
My cheeks heat. “Thank you.” I stand there for a beat while he looks as if he wants to devour me. I need to change the subject because it’s clear to me that we won’t make it down to the basement if I don’t. “So what’s the director?”
He clears his throat. “Prior to the party, someone from the club is sent an invitation to be the director. That person gets to choose the theme.”
“How do you decide who to send it to?”
He shrugs. “It’s random for the most part, though if there’s an agenda to be achieved and we can use it as leverage, that may be a deciding factor.”
I step toward him. “It’s that big of deal?”
“Just think if you had a specific sexual fantasy you wanted to live out. This would help you do it.”
“Makes sense.” I wonder what I would choose as a theme if given the chance.
Asher wraps his arms around my waist. “Are you nervous?”
“A little… will we… last time we did stuff in front of everyone. Is that what it will be like this time?”
His gaze becomes intense, and he trails a finger down my jawline. “I have no plans to share you with anyone, and that includes having you be anyone’s viewing pleasure. From now on, everything that happens will be behind closed doors in my private room.”
“I wasn’t sure if that was your room last time or not.”
“My brothers and I each have our own private rooms. Part of the perks of hosting the parties.” He grins at me.
“What are all the other rooms?” His and his brother’s rooms would only account for four of the doors I’d seen, and I knew there had to be nearly twenty or so besides the main room.
“Something for everyone. Some are designed as certain configurations like an office, a bathroom, or a locker room so people can play out their fantasies. Others have specific equipment in them depending on what you’re into—BDSM, shibari, voyeurism.”
The idea of all that makes the space between my legs hum. “Will we ever go into those rooms?”
His eyelids dip a bit. “If you like, though I already told you I’m not sharing you. But if it turns you on to watch others, if you want to see what you might want to explore between the two of us, that’s fine.”
I nod. “I’ll think about it.”
“I have something for you.” Asher walks over to his nightstand and opens the top drawer, then pulls out a gold mask with diamonds surrounding the outer edge and a gold filigree detail. He holds it out to me. “For you.”
“It’s beautiful.” I step back over to the mirror and slide it onto my face.
Asher steps up behind me and kisses the top of my shoulder. “Perfect fit. You ready?”
After taking a deep breath, I nod again. “Yep. Let’s go have some fun.”
Since last time was different because of my initiation, I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight.
But we’ve been here for forty-five minutes, and so far it’s just been people standing around having drinks and chatting as they would at any other party.
That’s if they were all dressed like ancient Romans with masks.
I lean into Asher and ask about something I noticed. “How come my mask is different from everyone else’s?”
Everyone else has on either a black, white, or red mask, while Asher, his brothers, and I all have on custom gold ones. It’s easy to spot his brothers. Nero has on a raven’s mask, Kol has on a lion’s mask, and Sid is wearing a wolf’s mask.
“You have that one on because you’re mine.”
I should probably hate the way he phrases it, but I don’t. Not even a little. I want to be his.
“For everyone else, the colors signify what they’re looking for tonight.”
My forehead wrinkles, and I glance around the dim cavern-like room. When I spot Kol getting sucked off by some woman, I turn around and face Asher. “How so?”
Asher bends to speak directly into my ear. “White is a watcher, red is a waiter, and black is a doer.”
“Okay, the watcher one seems self-explanatory, as does the doer. What’s a waiter?”
“It basically means they’re not sure what they’re in the mood for this evening.
But they’re open. So, if someone wanted to play with them, they could suggest it, and they might decide to join in, maybe not.
The people in black masks are down for anything tonight—it means you don’t have to get their consent for each and every thing.
If you wanted to go up to one of the men in a black mask and get on your knees in front of him and start sucking him off, there’d be no objections and no recourse for him. ”
“Kinda like how I am with you then,” I say and give him a cheeky grin.
Asher slides his hand around my back and takes my ass in his grip.
I arch my back, wanting more. He glances over my shoulder toward the hallway that leads to his private room, and his eyes light with recognition.
He drops his hand and straightens, sticking his hand out as a man with dark hair and a white mask comes over.
“Good to see you. It’s been a while,” Asher says to him.
The man smiles. I can’t see his entire face, but he’s clearly attractive. His dark brown eyes settle on me once they’re done their handshake. “And who do we have here?”
Asher’s hand settles on my lower back. “This is Anabelle. Anabelle, this is Mr. Smith.”
He puts his hand out, so I take it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith.”
“Likewise.” He turns his attention back to Asher.
“How have things been? I wasn’t sure. It’s been a while since we saw you at one of these,” Asher says.
“You know how it is…”
Asher nods and turns to me, saying directly into my ear, “Why don’t you go to my private room, and I’ll meet you there in a minute? You remember where it is?”
I nod.
“Okay, take off your underwear and leave it on the bed.”
“Yes, sir,” I say before walking away.
I go into the room, which looks much the same as it did before, and do as he says, removing my panties and leaving them on the mattress. I take a seat on the edge of the bed and wait. As the minutes tick by, the anticipation rises and I grow wet.
Finally, the door opens, and Asher walks in. His gaze diverts to the bed, where he sees my white lace panties. He smirks, and it’s such a sexy smirk that I want it between my thighs.
“Stand up.” His voice is sharp, like a knife’s edge.
I bolt up from the mattress.
“Go stand at the corner at the foot of the bed.”
I do, and he moves over to the chest of drawers and grabs a pair of handcuffs with a chain between them. My nipples pebble under the thin fabric of my dress.
He must notice, because his gaze dips, and he licks his lips. “Put your hands above your head.”
I raise my hands, and he positions me so that my spine is lined up with the post at the corner of the four-poster bed. Because of my position, my chest sticks out, and when he puts the handcuffs on my right wrist, our chests brush. It’s the slightest of touches, but it makes my breath catch.
I can’t see what he’s doing, but I hear the chain moving against metal. Then the other handcuff is fastened around my left wrist. On instinct, I try to pull my hands down but find that I’m not able to.
I really am at Asher’s mercy. Why does that make me so hot?
He leans in and gently removes my mask. “It’s just us. I want to be able to see all of you.”
Asher probably didn’t mean for it to come off as sweet, but it does.
Then he lifts his mask so it sits on top of his head, and he leans in and kisses me. It’s drugging and makes my legs feel wobbly. When he pulls away, I make a small sound of protest in the back of my throat, and he chuckles against my neck.
Trailing his tongue down, he eventually reaches my breasts. He tongues my nipple over the fabric then sucks it into his mouth. When he pulls away, the fabric is wet, and I can see my nipple through it. He repeats the motion on my other breast until both my nipples are turgid peaks.
I rub my thighs together, desperate to relieve some of the pressure building there.
He chuckles and leans in, taking my nipple in his warm mouth again and trailing his fingers down between the pieces of fabric and delving into my folds.
He lightly runs them over my clit, and I arch my hips, greedy for more.
He doesn’t say anything, keeping his fingers still and letting me set the pace with the movement of my hips.
My breathing picks up, and I increase my pace, getting close, but then he pulls his fingers away.
I cry out.
“Spread your legs.” He doesn’t miss a beat, and his voice leaves zero room for argument, so I do what he says even though right now, I want to squeeze my legs together.
He drops to his knees in front of me and leans in, centering his nose at the apex of my thighs and inhaling deep.
God, it’s so dirty, but somehow I love it.
“Have you ever heard of orgasm control?” He looks up at me from below.
I shake my head, though I can infer what it means by the name.
“I’m not going to let you come until I want you to. It might seem frustrating, but trust me when I tell you that the payoff will be worth it.”