Chapter 5 Aniyah
ANIYAH
“What’s a Sleeping Beauty room?” His curious tone almost made me laugh.
He had taken off the mask, telling me he would need to get used to that.
When I told him practice made perfect, he glared at me, keeping it firmly in his hands.
We had a few members that were similar, but they always requested private rooms and specific talent—not to mention paying a hefty fee for that exclusivity. I’d have to mark this in his file.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like. A room available for private use, for a fee, or open access with a kink-approved employee who enjoys somnophilia.”
When his eyebrow lifted, I fought the urge to sigh.
“Every specialty room is staffed by volunteers. These aren’t just employees, they’re people with real kinks or curiosities.
We give them a safe space to explore and a way to get paid for doing what they already desire.
Some of them even find healing in the process. ”
This was why the Winged Palace worked so flawlessly. Rule number one in the skin trade: keep your talent happy and well-compensated. When it came to kink, especially the taboo kinds, it wasn’t just about selling the fantasy. It was about trust, control, safety, and the perfect pairing.
His gaze shifted back to the room list. He pointed at the fifth floor and turned his full attention to me. “What about these? Silent Screams? The Slow Drip? Prey and Predator? Free at Last?”
A slow smile crept across my face, dark and inviting. I let the silence stretch, savoring the tension.
“You’ve never had the urge to sink those beautiful fangs into someone who didn’t see it coming?” I asked, stepping in close. His eyes widened just slightly. “To rip into their throat like the monster they think you are? To lose yourself in the frenzy and take until there’s nothing left to give?”
He froze, mouth slightly parted, and I pounced. My hand closed around his throat, slamming him against the wall. The impact stole his breath, and I used that moment to slowly run my blunt teeth along the hollow of his neck.
“To take… and take… and take as they fight back for their life,” I whispered against his ear, my voice a purr of menace and seduction, “until they can’t fight anymore, limp beneath you, ruined from the inside out?”
He hissed. I licked the curve of his ear.
“To drop them like meat when you’re done because you’ve finally had your fill.”
His breath hitched. His gaze turned sharp, offended, maybe, so I backed off, hands raised in playful surrender. My tone stayed cool despite the heat pulsing in the air between us.
“Consensual non-consent isn’t for everyone.”
He stared at me like I’d just suggested he join a murder cult.
“You really have employees who want that?” Disbelief colored every syllable, and although it rubbed me raw, I let it slide. This was a tour after all.
“Some of them need it,” I said, voice firm, chin high. “Some were turned against their will. Some survived sadistic masters. Others crave extremes, an intensity that strips them bare, where fear and desire blur. For them, that’s what real pleasure looks like.”
He looked away, jaw tight, processing. I’d seen that quiet judgment before, and I knew exactly how to handle it.
“Just because it doesn’t appeal to you doesn’t mean it’s wrong,” I said, slower now. “Just because it makes you uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s disgusting. It just makes it different.”
I stepped in close again, not to seduce this time, but to drive the point home.
“And here? Different is accepted. There's a place for everyone at the Winged Palace, and everyone has a voice in their own pleasure. No shame. No fear. Just acceptance.”
Shifting the conversation back into business, I offered smoothly, “And if there’s a specific scene you’d like to explore, you’re welcome to email me privately. We can collaborate and figure out how to make it happen.”
His attention returned to me, the tension in his expression easing slightly. “For a fee, of course.”
I laughed, low and knowing. “Naturally. Anything can happen for a fee.”
That was when his silver eyes caught mine again. Something flickered in them, an idea, bright and reckless. He took a slow step closer, testing the waters.
“If anything can happen for a fee…” he let the words hang as his gaze turned molten, “how much… for you?”
The air shifted. My mouth went dry. My mind, however, went straight to the gutter, flooded with images of the things I could do to him.
With him. The rooms we could explore. The positions I could have him in.
The sounds he’d make under my hands, my mouth.
The look on his face when I took control and wrecked him, piece by piece.
He was the first potential client to stir something so visceral in me, which was exactly why I needed to slam the brakes.
“I’m the only experience in this place you can’t buy,” I said, folding my arms and holding his gaze with cool conviction. “No matter how big the offer. I’ve turned down more than you’ve got sitting in your account right now.”
His brow lifted, maybe at the number I’d implied, maybe at the fact that I clearly knew exactly how much he was worth. Either way, he took a step back, offering me a tight-lipped smile, the kind men wore when they were trying to act unaffected by rejection.
And I hated it.
It didn’t feel good. My body was wound up so tight it naturally leaned toward him, and that wasn't good either.
I could still feel the ghost of his hand where it had pressed against my waist, how it had yanked me back against his body. His touch had been searing. Commanding. Addictive.
So, why the hell was I pretending I didn’t want him?
I wasn’t for sale, that was true, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck him senseless if I wanted to. And gods, I wanted to. This pull, this craving, it was just lust. Just desire. Something to feed until the hunger subsided. Then I’d be done. No regrets. No strings.
But if I did give in… I’d need boundaries. Clear. Non-negotiable. Ones I wouldn’t compromise on, no matter how good he tasted.
An idea sparked. Isn’t today Van’s day off?
I bit my lower lip, let myself indulge in that wicked spark of anticipation, and turned toward him.
“I’m not something you can pay for,” I said, my words deliberate. “Because I fuck who I want, when I want.”
Like a switch flipping, he zoomed in front of me, backing me into a corner and trapping me there with the sheer weight of his presence. His body caged mine without touching, his fangs gleaming under the dim light. “So, how do I get you to want it?”
His hand slid up my thigh, aiming for the ache that was already pulsing with need, but I slapped him away. A low growl rumbled from his chest, all dominance and frustration.
“You have to pass the test,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm, cool, and collected, even though my pulse was racing.
“Test?” He paused, just barely stepping back.
With just enough space for me to move, I didn’t hesitate. I ducked beneath his arm and flew to the elevator, hitting the up button. The doors opened immediately, as if the place knew I needed an escape. I stepped in, turning back to face him with a forced smirk I didn’t quite feel.
“Do you think you can handle it?” I challenged, letting the question hang as my thumb jabbed floor thirteen. I folded my arms, pretending like my heartbeat wasn’t thundering in my ears.
He didn’t move, but his brows furrowed, eyes burning into mine. So, I pressed harder, folding my arms over my chest and raising a brow. “It’s not for the faint of heart,” I warned. “And you’ll have to do exactly what I say.”
The doors started to close. Slowly. Inch by inch.
For a breathless moment, I doubted, fingers digging into my arms, heart clenching. Maybe he wouldn’t follow. Maybe that was it. And if so? Then, oh well.
I still had someone waiting for me upstairs. Someone I knew would help me take the edge off.
The elevator doors shut, and my jaw clenched.
Fine.
That was fine. He had made his choice.
Staring at my reflection in the bright steel doors, my face looked cold, blank, like I could fool myself into thinking I didn’t care even though my stomach had dropped when those doors closed.
This was ridiculous! He didn’t matter. He was just another man with a pretty face and a powerful aura, the kind that made lesser beings swoon.
Still… it felt like something was missing the moment the space behind me stayed empty.
A phantom heat lingered near my back, and I swore I could still feel the echo of his presence, like the air itself hadn’t accepted his decision to stay behind. My wings twitched once, then twice, restless. Wanting. Reaching.
Shaking my head, I told myself I just needed a good fuck to get my body straight again. All of this was nothing, no big deal.
Ignoring the unsettling disappointment, I had just reached out to press the floor I wanted, where someone who knew and accepted the rules was waiting for me, when the elevator dinged.
The doors parted, and in strolled Lucus Kingsley, all calm composure and quiet command.
He didn’t say anything at first, just turned to face forward like this was any other elevator ride and not the tension-filled purgatory it had suddenly become.
Then his rough voice rang clear, the sound low, intimate. “After you.”
My pulse jumped like he’d touched me, and I hated how quickly my mind spiraled.
What made him change his mind? For a man who seemed to live a strict life under his own rules, I wondered what tempted him more—me or the thrill of the unknown?
And why the hell is my body heating up at just the thought of having this man follow me?