Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
ALENA
This is definitely not what I expected.
Loch holds my hand, the one wearing his ring, leading me into the VIP room of The Rabbit Hole, Atlanta’s most exclusive sex club.
I expected its black, red, and gold gleaming decor. The low music, thrumming. The dimly lit rooms, with an amber scent wafting through the warm air. I thought we’d be the only two wearing our masks tonight: mine, white lace; Loch’s, black spandex.
But I didn’t expect the guests he invited would be wearing them as well. They sit, hiding behind masquerade ones, with half their faces covered.
It’s so chic, it’s taboo.
My teeth grab my bottom lip, not sure what will happen, but very ready for it. I trust Loch.
“Good evening,” he greets our secret guests.
“Good evening,” they softly murmur, but I heard an accent, French, I think, from the elegant blonde in a white bunny mask; her Bordeaux lips smiling.
She’s draped across the lap of a mammoth man wearing a gold mask, his whiskers dark, his smile soft, his jaw chiseled.
They grab my attention first, then it slides to the seven others in the room, reclining on black leather sofas.
Two couples, suited men with their arms around scantily clad women, greet us with intrigued smiles, while one woman sits alone, and two large men loom, sitting solo in shadowed black leather chairs.
I’m struck speechless, my skin prickling with excitement as Loch guides me to stand in front of them. Like they’re the audience, and I’m the show.
Because I am.
It’s my fantasy.
At first, no words are spoken. It’s part of Loch’s seduction. The anticipation. As if he knows how the ambient pounding beat from the speakers matches the cadence, throbbing in my wet sex.
I’ve been waiting so long for this. I glance down to see if I’ve already stained my white silk slip again.
I haven’t… but I will.
Good god, remembering the dirty fantasies I’ve confessed to Loch. All the questions he’s asked about my boundaries and desires, my feelings and fears, my wishes for our fantasy night together. It’s as if he’s been preparing me, and this is my test.
That awkward woman at the Slurpee machine feels so long ago because this one feels beautiful. She senses Loch’s heat, standing behind her, wearing the same suit from our polite engagement party.
His breath steams over my ear as he asks, “You warm enough, Babygirl?”
As always, he reads my flesh like I’m the only story he wants to consume.
“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s perfectly hot in here.”
It’s not just the temperature, which is intentional.
It’s the heat from the two red neon bunny lights illuminating the sex swings, swaying from the ceiling corners.
Low, clear tables gleam with bowls of condoms, packets of lube, and new boxes of sex toys.
A black leather platform has been pushed against a mirrored wall, as if someone wants to highlight the lone leather chair, looming like a black throne at the center of the room.
Vale would be so proud.
In a way, I wish she were here.
Then again, I’m not attracted to my best friend.
Besides, there’s a taboo thrill to the anonymity of our guests, though they’re not complete strangers. Loch vetted a small list of our OnlyFans, inviting them to join us live to celebrate our engagement.
But there’s a lingering disappointment. I’d love to match the masked faces to the usernames I’ve known for years.
Is the lone woman @ProudWhoreinDC? Are one of the couples @JuicyLips with her kinky date? Did they fly here from London? Just to see us? Are the other couple @SilverZaddy and @CherryGirl? Even under his mask, I can tell the Zaddy is bald in a sexy way.
The live audience makes my breath hitch. It’s been my kink for years, with @LuvPounder helping me explore it, and now I feel so safe, beautiful, and confident with Loch. But in my head or online are different. In the flesh? This is deliciously prohibited, making the room palpitate with passion.
Loch hears me, fingering the thin strap to my dress. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just curious who everyone is.”
Reaching for my nipple, circling it, he challenges with his gentle pinch. “You really want to know, DirtTGirl?”
I gasp at the slick rush between my thighs.
I told Loch I wanted strangers at our party. Yes, I’m getting confident, and anonymity helps—mine and theirs.
But he worried about our safety and compromised, saying they had to be fans or loyal friends. So I guess their masks are his way of giving me the anonymity I desire.
All except for one.
“Is HarrySmiles here?” I ask our guests.
“Here, darling.”
A man’s British voice—or is it Australian?—calls out, and my stare lands on one of the solo men. He’s so tall, like Loch, the dark chair can’t contain him.
@HarrySmiles is a cheeky username, hiding who Loch told me is really a closeted, hot, young A-list Hollywood actor. One who doesn’t trust many with his secret, but he trusts us, @LuvPounder and @DirtTGirl.
In a way, we’ve known him for years.
And tonight I want him…
For Loch.
From behind my white lace mask, I smile. “Nice to finally meet you, Harry.”
He replies coyly, “Likewise, Mrs. Soon-To-Be-LuvPounder. You both look ravishing tonight.”
Okay, that baritone voice was Australian.
It’s really him, the actor.
We’re really doing this.
A low moan escapes my lips, and lusciously, Loch fists my hair, his lips tickling my ear. “Slow down, DirtTGirl. You’re getting excited.” I love how he can read my naughty mind. How he orders, “Before we begin, you need to tell everyone our rule. Do you remember it?”
How could I forget? From our first night at the Charleston club together. The first night I felt so sexy and safe with Loch.
My breath thins, giving voice to my desire. “That you make the rules, that I’ll be a proud slut for you, getting off in front of others whenever you say so, Sir.”
“Mmm.” He flicks the silky strap on my shoulder, making my dress fall, exposing my breast. “And tell them, does that please you? When I make you my beautiful DirtTGirl?”
“Yes, Sir.” My breath hitches. “I want you to please me in front of them.”
Loch flicks the other strap, and my slip dress falls, pooling at my feet. I’m naked, in heels. My flesh, lewd and liberated. My body, bare and beautiful.
Good god, why did I hate my body when it can feel this good?
HarrySmiles licks his lips at the sight of me. The blonde bunny does too. She squirms in Mr. Gold’s lap, who chokes down his approving moan.
“My queen is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Loch’s been saying that word a lot lately—queen—and I love it. I feel like it as he admires my breasts, brushing his fingertips over my nipples, making them ache for more.
“She sure is pretty,” the other solo man crows.
That was a Southern accent, I’d know. Who is he? I’m not sure. He sounds kinda cute, but Mr. Gold’s mask turns to glare at him.
“She’s pretty, and she’s MY queen,” Loch growls, gently tugging my hair, kicking my ankles apart. Where his fervor is coming from, I don’t know as he asks, “Isn’t that right? Do you feel like my naked queen?”
My nipples tighten, voice rasping, “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. Now, touch your pussy with the finger wearing my ring. Show them it’s mine.”
Oh my god.
It’s one thing when we do this online. When it’s just me and Loch in our cabin in front of his laptop. When I fuck myself for him and our fans. Or he fucks me with a toy. It’s erotic but abstract. Salacious but safe. Almost surreal.
But this is extremely real.
I can see aroused nipples and cocks in the room. I can hear their deepening breath. I can smell their primal desire. It’s mostly mine as I reach down, sliding my ring finger between my exposed pussy lips.
God, I’m already soaked.
Loch tosses his jacket on the chair in the center of the room, making quick work of unbuttoning his shirt, watching me the whole time.
“Good girl. Now, spread your pussy lips,” he demands, tossing his shirt aside. “Show them that pretty clit.”
Shaking, I obey.
Raw air thrills my nerves, raw lust as well. I could come from this lewd exposure alone, while Loch drops his pants, kicking free of them and his shoes. All that remains are his white Calvins that can’t contain his massive erection, the thick elastic band, gaping from his inked abs.
“Fucking beautiful,” HarrySmiles huffs, admiring the sight of me? Of Loch? Or both of us?
“Yes, she is,” Loch agrees before ordering me, “Now, pinch your nipple.” His blue eyes are on fire, admiring my compliance. “Do it while you pull back your pretty pink hood for them.”
Everything about Loch, looming large, threatening, and thrilling, makes me submit.
Watching him, I pinch my right nipple. It aches, while my left hand, with my ringed finger proudly wearing his rare green jewel, gently exposes my tiniest pink pearl to the room.
“Oh fuck,” I whimper as the electric air licks at my tender clit.
“Don’t you dare come. Not yet.” Loch towers on my left, so all can see me. “Stand there, Babygirl, and show them how fucking beautiful you are. Every goddamn inch of you that’s mine.”
I tug at my nipple while exposing my clit. It makes my thighs tremble. My pussy pulse. My ego liberated and calling bullshit on all my body hate. Not like this. This is desire, divine and delicate in its assault on my senses, and I’m so damn blessed to feel it. My eyes well with pride.
Loch closes the distance between us.
Softly, he brushes the small of my back, just as he does when we’re in bed. Soothing me. Loving me. “You okay, Babygirl?” he whispers.
“Very.”
He kisses my hair, sighing over my strands, words only I can hear. “You’re feeling it, aren’t you? What I see every time, Alena. How beautiful you are to me. Promise me you’ll remember this.”
“I promise.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes, Sir. Please. I need it.”
I stand, blanketed by Loch’s love yet breathlessly bare, suddenly remembering the cameras are recording us. In corners of the room, Loch has them on tripods. He’ll edit, zooming in to conceal faces. I trust his discretion.