CHAPTER FOURTEEN
LILA
My heart pounds in rhythm to the music. My watch vibrates, warning me that my heart rate is sky high, but this isn’t panic.
I can’t breathe because of him. Because of the way the stranger kisses me like he needs it to survive.
Neither of us can catch a breath. I’m so thirsty.
Craving something deeper, something real.
But the stranger isn’t quenching it. He’s not the drink I need.
I need more. But more of what? The one that I’m imagining? Beck?
It makes sense that he’s the Red Mask. It was his house. His maze. His gazebo. I watched him walk into the maze that night. It has to be him. I know it’s him.
I pull away, breathless. His brown eyes are wild, dark with want, and I was ready to give in to him. Ready to be consumed. Until I felt it. That magnetic pull radiating from the balcony above. Until I saw him.
The red neon X’s. The eerie smile glowing through the dark. He wasn’t just standing there. He was dominating the entire room without lifting a finger.
Owning the space like it belonged to him…
Like I belong to him.
I drop down from his waist, my legs trembling. There’s a damp spot on his shirt, right where my wetness seeped through my thong.
Well, that’s embarrassing.
I glance away, humiliated, then meet his gaze again as he mimics my movements. “I’m… I’m so sorry,” I whisper, horrified .
“Lila,” he murmurs, leaning in so close I can feel his breath on my cheek. “Don’t worry about that.” His voice drops lower, velvety and hot. “Because by the end of the night…” His gaze flicks to my thighs, then back to my lips. “That wetness will be dripping down my face.”
Fuck.
I smile, a little shy but playful. “If I’m going to be your dessert, can I at least know your name first?”
He hesitates, as if he knows this is a one-night thing, and letting me know his name makes it more real. “Come on,” I tease, leaning in closer. “How am I supposed to scream your name if I don’t know it?”
He lets out a low, soft laugh that sends butterflies spiraling through my stomach. “Shit, Lila. That’s insanely sexy when you talk like that.” Before I can get another word out, he kisses me. Slow. Teasing. Almost emotional.
“Pleaseee,” I pout, fluttering my lashes like a bratty little tease.
He smirks, eyes dancing with heat. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to say no to that?” He leans in, lips brushing mine. “Call me Leon.”
“Mmm, Leon… the name of a lion. Should I be scared? Or excited to be your prey tonight?”
He smirks, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. “That depends. Are you the kind of prey that runs or begs to be caught?”
I freeze. I wasn’t expecting that. He’s the perfect book boyfriend; flirty, confident, gorgeous, but something still feels like it’s missing.
His voice drops lower, thicker with heat. “How about I take you to the pleasure room and find out?”
“I’m listening…” I grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer .
“If I take you there, it’s over. Your body will only know me.”
“Wait. What exactly is the pleasure room?”
“It’s where I focus only on you,” he says, his tone dripping with sex. “I blindfold you. Every sense tuned to touch. The way my hands move across your body. The way my tongue curls around your clit.”
My breath hitches. My thighs squeeze together. This man isn’t him… but he can make me feel good tonight. And maybe that’s enough. Who knows? Perhaps this is the beginning of something. Maybe it’s our love story.
But what Leon doesn’t know is that I’ve never really been pleasured by a man. No one’s ever gone down on me. This will be a first. One I’ll never forget. I’ve had sex once, and he finished in under a minute… so technically, I’m still a virgin in every way that matters.
I give Leon a teasing smile. “Umm… yes, please. Lead the way. And if you do a good job…” I lean in, lips brushing his ear. “I might just give you a reward.”
Did I just say that out loud? Hell yes, I did. Not that I actually know how to please a man, but still.
He kisses my neck, then grabs my hand in a way that feels strangely emotional, leaving me confused. His fingers lace through mine as we move through the crowd of bumping, grinding bodies.
We step into the gold elevator, and I catch our reflection in the mirrored walls. Oddly enough, we look good together. His fingers are still locked with mine. It feels intimate, more than just a one-night thing. But I’m probably reading too much into it.
He presses the button for Level Three. “Let me text Aster so she won’t worry.”
LILA: Hey, so it’s happening .
ASTER: SHUT UP! You’re lying.
LILA: Nope. He’s taking me to the third floor.
ASTER: You lucky bitch. Want me to wait for you?
LILA: Hopefully I’ll be in here all night… ??
ASTER: If y’all get tired, there are hotel rooms on the fourth floor.
LILA: Noooo. This is not an intimate thing… just fun! Nothing more.
ASTER: Well, I hope Leon knows that. Call me in the morning and tell me everything!
LILA: I will. Kisses!
He wraps his arm around my waist. I press into his chest. “Are you ready?” he asks. “Oh, Leon… you have no idea.”
The elevator doors glide open, and my breath catches. Imagine if Versailles had a secret wing no one spoke of, a place built not for politics but for indulgence. That’s what this feels like. A fever dream.
No way this is real. I must have stepped into one of my dirty fantasies.
Above us, the ceiling stretches like a portal to another world, a swirling galaxy hand-painted in vibrant hues of violet, midnight blue, and silver. The ceiling seems to pulse with life, stars glowing like a heartbeat above us.
The lighting is dim and intimate. Velvet circular couches made for two are draped with sheer curtains, offering glimpses of the shadows inside.
Nearby, open lounge areas buzz with quiet conversation.
The seating there is upholstered in soft ivory, trimmed with gold that curls like vines along the walls.
The scent of luxury hangs in the air. Expensive cologne, sweat, desire, and sex. And the bar ?
It glows beneath a calligraphy sign that reads, "Versailles Kissed By The Cosmos.
" The marble counter glistens, sleek and sensual.
Liquor bottles shimmer like stained glass, each one shaped like diamonds and precious stones.
No prices. Just power. Everything here tempts.
There are no clocks. No windows. No distractions. Only pleasure.
“This place is expensive,” I murmur. “Really expensive. And what did you say you did again?”
He walks with confidence, like the world bends for him. People greet him with reverence, like he’s someone famous.
Do I know him from somewhere?
Before I can ask, we reach the receptionist. “Room 302,” he says.
“Yes, sir. Do you need anything else?”
He turns to me. “Lila? Need anything?”
I swallow the lump rising in my throat. “I think I’m good.”
Nerves build in my stomach as I try to steady my breath. He smiles. “I’ll be right back. Just heading to my office to get something special for you. Go ahead and get ready.”
Office?
He vanishes.
I blink. “What does he mean, his office?” I ask the receptionist.
She glances up, confused. “Mr. Amour? He’s the owner of the club… didn’t you know?”
Dammit. How does this always happen to me? This is exactly like the maze. Will I be having wet dreams about him next week, too? Ugh. How could I be so stupid? He probably does this with every girl .
My voice sharpens. “Does he bring a lot of women up here?”
She hesitates, glancing around like she’s debating whether to spill. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to say this,” she whispers, leaning in slightly, “but I’m a girls’ girl… and from what I’ve seen, you’re the first.”
My heart skips.
Oh. I’m the first. And tonight, he’ll be the first to pleasure me truly. This is starting to feel more emotional than I’d like.
I consider leaving, but something deep inside whispers, 'Stay.'
Perhaps I would like to learn more about Mr. Amour.
“Could you tell me how to get to my room?”
“Down the hall. Left turn. If you need anything, let us know. We’re here to assist your deepest, darkest fantasies.”
“Umm… thanks.”
I’m doing this for myself. Lila, you deservethis.
I walk the long hallway, lined with ivory doors and gold accents, and stop at 302.
Don’t be nervous. He will forget about you tomorrow.
My heart feels like it’s about to leap out of my chest. My watch vibrates. My hands tremble as I reach for the crystal knob, slowly turning it, unsure of what I’m about to walk into. Then I step inside.
The room is rich and exotic, draped in the decadence of Versailles.
A leather table dominates the center, its four restraints shimmering in the low light.
Beside it, a tray glows with temptation.
Glass vials of oil gleam, the way I want my body to glisten under someone’s touch.
Nipple clamps wait with the promise of a bite, a silk blindfold lies ready to steal my sight, and a jeweled paddle sparkles like it belongs in a palace.
There is more, some I recognize and others remain a mystery, but together they hum with the promise of pain and pleasure entwined.
Oh God. I don’t think I’m ready for this.
My chest rises and falls, quick and shallow. I slip off my heels and climb onto the table, the material cool beneath my skin. I lie back, open, waiting, still dressed in Dior. I’m not sure what’s about to happen or what I’m supposed to do, but if he wants to restrain me, I’ll let him.
The blindfold slips over my eyes. I tie it tight.
I’m doing this. I’m going all in.
Even if it’s Leon touching me, it’s not his face I see behind my eyelids. It’s theirs. The ones who haunt me. The one with ice blue eyes that undress me without a single touch. The one from the maze. The red mask. The hum.
The door creaks open behind me. My heart stutters. Footsteps echo slowly across the room. Steady. Intentional. Unhurried. I try to breathe normally, but I’m failing miserably. “I thought you might’ve gotten lost,” I tease, my voice light but trembling at the edges.
Silence. Only his breath, his presence. Then I feel it.
A leather-gloved hand brushes my ankle. Painfully slow. It trails upward, over my calf, my thigh, stopping at my hip. He’s not speaking. Not rushing. Just exploring.
I should be scared. But I’m not.
“I need to tell you something,” I whisper. “I’ve never done this before. I’ve never… been
pleasured. Not by anyone.”
Still, no response. Then his other hand wraps gently around my wrist, fastening it to the restraint. The next follows firmly. Dominant but tender. My breath catches.
Wait. Gloves? Leon wasn’t wearing gloves .
A chill blooms across my skin. And then I feel it. That pressure in the air. The pull. It’s him. Not Leon. Not a stranger. Him.
The Red Mask.
He saunters around me, fingers grazing along my arm, my ribs, down my thigh, mapping me, claiming me without a single word. And I let him.
God, I want him to.
He stops near my head and tips my chin up. I wait, lips parted, for the kiss. It doesn’t come. Instead, his breath grazes mine. Hot. Lingering. Torturous. He hovers, close enough that I feel it in my bones. And then…
He hums. Low. Velvety. Like a secret language only we understand.
The same hum that echoed through the maze.
The one that threaded through grinding bodies on the dance floor.
The one that owned me long before this moment.
And I know without seeing him. I know exactly who he is. And I don’t want him to stop.
My body locks in place. I whisper, “Leon?”
Nothing.
Then a voice cuts through the silence. A voice I don’t recognize, but one my soul already knows.
“Looks like I have caught you again, princess.”