Chapter 1 #2
"Welcome to the show," I murmured, watching his face for a reaction. "Each of these beds costs as much as a room at the Atlantis, in Dubai. All the kingdoms for a little depravity, hmm?"
His expression remained impassive, but his eyes darkened with an emotion that made my breath catch. Hunger … and something more. "Power and debauchery—no surprise here." He turned to me. "But are you not concerned anyone will recognise you?"
I shrugged. "Why? What could they possibly threaten me with? That I was doing what they were doing? In my house? But then we also have these…" I reached up in an alcove in the wall and picked a couple of masks from a shelf. "Put it on."
"Fair enough." He wore his mask and I wore mine. His gaze travelled back to the scene unfolding in front of us, and he brought his hand to the small of my back to caress me in that sensitive spot.
I smiled, pleased by his composure even as I yearned to shatter it. "Most men are either shocked or salivating by now."
"I'm not most men." The way he said the words—with absolute conviction—sent my desire skyrocketing.
"No," I agreed. My nipples hardened beneath the silk of my dress and moisture gathered between my thighs. "You're not."
I guided him through the room, deliberately taking a path that showcased the most provocative displays.
A woman bent over a leather bench, her face beneath the half-mask visibly contorted in ecstasy as one man played with her pussy.
Then, he grabbed her hips and fucked her from behind whilst the other thrust his cock so far in her mouth that she gagged.
Despite the face being partially covered, I recognised one as some mad cousin of the O'Brien's.
Then the other… hang on… did that cock belong to Patrick O'Brien?
I believed it did, and Alexander's wide-eyed gaze flickered with recognition.
He was, after all, married to Ronan Flanagan's half-sister.
The O'Brien heir was both depraved and insane—everyone knew this, including his own father.
That poor wife of his must be living in some kind of hell.
Next, a renowned politician sat on his knees—I'd seen him countless times and couldn't mistake that mole on his left shoulder—servicing a masked dominatrix.
She had her legs spread open, ordering him to flick his tongue over her folds, pushing his face into her bare cunt whilst a woman I knew to be his wife watched, her dress pulled up to her waist and a leg flung over each arm of a stuffed chair.
Her pussy was bare, and her face a mask of ecstasy as she touched herself, licking her lips.
The sight of her husband submitting to the woman's demands had her coming in no time, her screams renting the air.
Three gorgeous women lay intertwined on silk sheets, completely naked, a beautiful tangle of limbs and sighs.
These had no masks. Hired escorts, there to give a show.
One had her face buried between the second woman's thighs, drinking her essence, whilst the third sat on the serviced woman's face, her hips gyrating as her pussy got a thorough licking.
All of them moaned with pleasure as they took each other over the brink…
Alexander absorbed each tableau with the same measured interest he might give a business proposal, but I felt his pulse quicken when my fingers encircled his wrist. His desire was a living thing between us, barely contained beneath his civilised veneer.
We settled in a secluded alcove on a velvet chaise, positioned to provide a perfect view of the room whilst maintaining the illusion of privacy. Gossamer curtains partially concealed us, though anyone truly looking could see through.
"Is this where you try to extract Flanagan secrets?" Alexander asked, his voice dropping to that dangerous register I found extremely appealing, along with the hint of humour in his tone. "Seduce the second-in-command for information?"
"Is it working?" I challenged, sliding my hands inside his jacket, feeling hard muscle beneath fine cotton. My fingers traced his ribs beneath his shirt, exploring the strength contained in his frame.
He captured my wrist in a grip firm enough to remind me I wasn't the one calling the shots. His thumb found my pulse point, pressing lightly against the racing beat. "Your heart's beating rather fast for someone in your … position. The daughter of Connor O'Malley."
The pressure of his touch sent waves of arousal through my body. "Perhaps I'm simply excited by the danger you pose. The enemy here, in my territory, surrounded by my father's men…"
"Here we are," he replied, his free hand sliding up my thigh beneath my dress, fingers tracing patterns on sensitive skin. "Alone, in the darkness."
The double entendre wasn't lost on me.
"Not quite alone." I nodded towards a nearby divan beyond the curtain where a young couple had just invited another to join them.
Their forms were slightly less than a blur.
The woman knelt between her husband's legs whilst their male guest positioned himself behind her.
The guest's partner caressed his bottom whilst they engaged in a dance as old as time.
Their synchronised movements were hypnotic in their grace, their shared pleasure evident in every gasp and moan.
As time passed, the fucking got savage, brutal, fast, until…
Alexander's eyes followed my gaze, his expression darkening with hunger. "Does watching them excite you?" His fingers continued their exploration beneath my dress, moving higher, with deliberate slowness.
"Not my usual cup of tea but yes," I admitted, transfixed by the scene unfolding before us. The woman's face was transformed by pleasure as she experienced both men simultaneously. "There's something primal about witnessing others lose control... and knowing they might be watching us, too."
"Not your usual cuppa … yet you brought me here. Why?"
"Because…"
"Because…"
"Because somehow I think you make the expensive champagne worth the cost, too."
Our gazes remained fixed on the bodies in front of us.
As if on cue, the woman's eyes opened, connecting with mine across the short distance. A smile curved her lips when she realised she had drawn our attention. Rather than shy away, she performed for us now, her movements more deliberate, her expressions more pronounced.
The man slapped her bum. "Take all of my cock, bitch!" he growled.
Alexander opened the curtain just enough for them to see what he was doing to me. Her gaze dropped to where Alexander's hand disappeared beneath my dress. I bit on my bottom lip, feeling a rush of moisture in my pussy.
"I think it is your cup of tea, sweetness. I think you like being watched," Alexander murmured, his breath hot against my neck. "And you like this." His fingers finally reached the edge of my knickers, tracing the delicate lace with maddening restraint.
My breath caught as he finally slipped beneath the barrier, finding me already wet for him. "Yes," I gasped when his thumb slid over my clit.
Alexander turned my face away from the scene, claiming my attention. "I want your eyes on me when you come," he commanded, his voice rough with desire as his fingers worked their magic between my thighs. "They can watch all they want, but your pleasure belongs to me. Only me."
The possessiveness in his tone should have offended me but achieved quite the opposite effect. His thumb found my centre with unerring precision whilst his fingers teased my entrance, the dual sensation making my hips buck against his hand.
I was vaguely aware of eyes on us now—not just the woman and her companions, but others drawn by our display. The knowledge that we were observed only heightened every sensation, every touch.
"Look," Alexander whispered, directing my gaze back to the room.
A third couple had joined the first two, the six now arranged in a tableau of intertwined bodies, swapping partners.
One of the women locked eyes with me as she rode her partner, impaling herself on the man's massive cock, her pussy glistening with moisture.
She played with her clit at the same time and the sounds coming out of her mouth had me even more aroused.
Her movements matched the rhythm of Alexander's fingers inside me. "They're following our pace," he said.
It was true—somehow Alexander had established a silent connection with those people, his movements setting the tempo for the erotic symphony unfolding around us. Power radiated from him, controlling not just my pleasure but influencing everyone within view.
The realisation pushed me to the edge. My back arched as the first wave of my climax approached, my body tensing in anticipation.
I was about to let go but then Alexander slowed his pace. "Not yet," he commanded, keeping me hovering on the precipice. "Watch them first."
Forcing my eyes open, I observed the others approaching their peak. All six of them. The synchronised dance of their bodies, the chorus of moans and gasps, the harmony between strangers united in pleasure—it was overwhelming in its raw intensity.
Just as the woman opposite me threw her head back and let out a keening moan of release, Alexander increased his pressure and pace, sending me spiralling into an explosive orgasm that tore a cry from my throat.
My body convulsed around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure washed through me, intensified by the knowledge that our shared ecstasy was being witnessed by the entire room.
"Beautiful," Alexander murmured, watching my face with fascination as I came apart in his hands. "Now everyone knows what you look like when you surrender."
Rather than feel shame, I wanted more. I reached for him, determined to shatter his composure as thoroughly as he had mine. "Your turn," I whispered, unfastening his belt with deliberate slowness.
Soon, he was naked, his impressive girth and length in my hands.
"Bloody hell…" I muttered, and he smirked at that.