Chapter 17
M aybe telling Lucian to go fuck himself via the tracking device wasn't my brightest idea, but in my defense, I was too pissed off to think clearly.
Today was the worst. Then briefly the best, then rapidly back to the worst.
Yes, I woke up a bit late—but only a bit. The subway decided today was the perfect day to malfunction. Cabs were impossible, buses overcrowded and crawling at a snail's pace because apparently, the subway outage inspired everyone in New York to flood the streets.
Three minutes. Just three measly fucking minutes late, and Lucian—Mr. Control-Freak of the Millennium—couldn't let it slide this one time. Four weeks straight of punctuality, and today he decides to humiliate me for being slightly behind schedule?
Whatever.
The Ledger spa appointment afterward was a saving grace, at least. The manicure, pedicure, and those heavenly massage chairs melted some of my frustration away. I almost forgot my morning from Hell entirely by the time I was summoned back to Lucian's office.
I had been so excited when he told me about something new. Christ, I'd practically jumped into his arms like an idiot. I nailed it, though—played my part perfectly.
But I wasn't prepared for Lucian to pull me onto his lap, toying with the lace edge of my stocking, discovering the stirrups beneath my dress. He was staking his claim, showing me that he knew exactly what lay underneath.
If my ass hadn't been on his thigh, I'm sure I would've felt his dick hardening beneath his slacks.
But Jesus Christ, bending me over that desk.
The fantasy I'd replayed in my head countless times felt dangerously close to reality. His hands on my body, positioning me exactly as he wanted, almost pushed me to the brink right there.
I swear I nearly came from anticipation alone.
I was certain he'd spank me. The thought made my knees weak, my body craving his discipline so intensely it scared me.
But the blow never came.
And when he dismissed me, frustration and humiliation battled inside me. It wasn't just embarrassment at being scolded or put in place. It was disappointment that he didn't follow through.
He had brought me right to the edge, so close to crossing a boundary we've both skirted around. And I wanted it—God, did I want it.
I wanted him to break, to put his hand on my ass and admit, through every stern touch, how thoroughly I've invaded his carefully controlled world.
But he held back, as always. And now, all I can think about is how close I came—and wonder just how close Lucian is to breaking his own rules.
Another thing I'm wondering about is who this woman is staring back at me in the mirror.
My eyes run down my body and I barely recognize her.
Harper called after work, practically begging me again to join her and Adriano at The Masquerade. She still refuses to call him her boyfriend, despite the fact he's basically been living at her place—or she's been at his—every single night this week.
It's cute, really. Harper deserves someone who lights her fire even brighter than it already burns. That’s exactly why I finally agreed to go out tonight.
I want to feel that fire myself—the kind Lucian ignites every time he pisses me off, every time my mind drifts back to that first night at the club, watching the Devil himself fuck a woman into oblivion.
The dress I chose for tonight is black leather, fitting me like a fucking glove.
It looks like thick bands of leather wrapped around my body, barely confining my tits, with a dangerously short hem.
My heels are high, my lipstick matches my nails, and I’m ready for a night of…what exactly, I'm not sure.
Harper bursts into my apartment without knocking, Adriano and another guy trailing behind her. She whistles appreciatively.
“Damn, Sienna. Planning to break hearts or laws tonight?”
I smirk, grabbing my clutch. “Why choose? Let’s do both.”
Harper laughs and nudges Adriano, who wraps an arm around her waist possessively. "This is Roman," she announces, indicating the friend who's currently eyeing me up and down.
Roman is handsome, I'll give Harper that—tall, sharp jaw, striking features—but the way he looks at me screams he only wants one thing, and for some reason, it doesn't appeal to me at all tonight.
The club is bustling when we arrive.
Harper and Adriano immediately snag white masks, heading into level 2, Lust, eager for their night ahead. I slip on my black rabbit mask, feeling powerful and anonymous.
Roman chooses a white mask as well, sticking close to me near the entrance. The safe zone—where the rules of looking without touching are more my speed right now.
“So,” Roman begins, leaning slightly toward me. “Have you been here before?”
I nod, my gaze roaming lazily around the room, taking in the glances sliding over me. The allure of my black mask—the woman who wears the Devil’s invitation—is thrilling, intoxicating.
“Once,” I reply casually.
He steps closer, his voice dropping. “You know, Harper's talked you up a lot. Says you're something special.”
I smile politely, deliberately not looking at him, maintaining control. “Harper’s known to exaggerate.” Making him want what I’m not giving him.
My attention.
Roman chuckles softly, undeterred. “Maybe, but looking at you tonight, I don't think she's wrong.”
I glance up at him coyly through my lashes, letting a teasing smirk curl my lips. It's amusing, really—he thinks he's seducing me, yet he's completely unaware I'm guiding this interaction. My Ledger training is coming in handy already.
"Careful," I say, tilting my head slightly, voice playful but authoritative. "Flattery will get you everywhere and nowhere at the same time."
Roman’s flirting is not selling me. I know he only wants to use cheesy lines to try and get me in the sack.
He probably says a lot of the same stuff to girls, leading them on with the promise he’s actually interested but really, he just wants to fuck and doesn’t really have many standards on who it is.
As I think of these things, I surprise myself.
The old me, the one that pined after Boring-Ben would have been all over this. Craving any kind of attention and believing it instantly.
These words would have likely worked before.
But not now.
There is not a single cell in my body aroused by Roman, the bedroom eyes he’s giving me or the prospect of fucking him.
Because I’m in the Devil’s territory.
And knowing he’s probably just a few floors above gives me chills. Wondering if he has a toy to play with yet.
If his tongue would feel as amazing on me in person as it does in my fantasies.
That is what sends a rush of heat across my chest and up my throat.
What flutters my pulse and makes me clinch my thighs together as my panties grow wetter.
I down the rest of my chardonnay and signal for another. Roman’s eyes flash with intrigue, clearly enjoying the thought that I’m just loosening up for a night of lust.
“I’ve been trying to find out a bit about you from Harper but she’s keeping any details about you a mystery.”
“Is that so?” I give a polite smile to the server as I take a new glass of wine from their tray.
“You snooping around on me, Roman?”
I let my voice drip with flirtation and watch as it pulls him right in.
So easy.
“When I find something that intrigues me, I go after it.”
Lame.
“So, what exactly do you do for a living, mysterious Sienna?”
I look at my wine and smile. I hadn’t anticipated this question and I’m not really sure how to answer.
Oh, I’m training to be an escort to billionaires.
Or maybe, I’m a paid houseplant in my boss’s office who I think of every night when I come on my vibrator.
I probably shouldn’t use either of those. Especially the second one.
“Maybe she’s one of the Devil’s playthings.” A woman whispers to her partner quietly as they pass us by.
I turn my head following them. All thoughts going back up to the ninth floor and wondering if the Devil is walking the halls of Hell tonight.
“Will you excuse me?” I take a big gulp of wine–for courage. “I need to use the bathroom.”
I don’t wait for Roman’s answer as I turn, heading straight to the elevator.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I push the button for the Devil’s Playground.