Chapter Twenty-One
Hayden
Sexy In Black
Starletste
The second Vanessa opens her apartment door, I forget how to breathe. Not metaphorically; I literally forget how to inhale, my breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat as my eyes land on her.
My hand tightens around the bouquet of dark red roses I brought for her, while every coherent thought in my head simply stops. Holy shit.
Black silk clings to her like it was designed specifically to ruin men. The skirt barely brushes mid-thigh. Bare shoulders glowing warm beneath the hallway light, her breasts spilling from the top of the corset she’s fastened into, accentuating her already small waist.
Lace-topped stockings disappear beneath garters I can see every inch of, because apparently Vanessa woke up this morning and chose violence. Her heels make her legs look endless.
And her hair – fuck me. It’s pinned loosely up off her neck in soft waves that somehow makes her look even more dangerous. Then there’s the mask; black silk tied delicately over her eyes, ruby red lips glistening beneath it.
She smiles slowly when she sees my expression. And God help me, she knows exactly what she’s done to me.
“Well.” Her gaze drifts deliberately over the all-black suit I’m wearing. “That reaction seems promising.”
I can’t stop staring at her mouth. “You’re not wearing enough fabric for October.”
Her laugh is soft and wicked. “That’s your opening line?”
“It’s the only thing my brain managed to produce.”
That earns me another smile. The dangerous one. I step inside long enough to hand her the roses before closing the door behind me.
She buries her nose in the petals, inhales and then smiles up at me. “They’re beautiful.”
“Nothing compared to you.”
“Careful, compliments like that will make me fall for you all over again.”
My heartbeat sputters before kicking into over drive, a slow breath finally leaving me. My attention catches on a black silk ribbon dangling from her fingertips.
“Is that a mask?”
“You weren’t going to bring one.”
“I wasn’t planning to wear one.”
“I know.” She steps closer, lifting the ribbon between us before looping it carefully around the back of my head. The intimacy of the gesture catches me off guard harder than it should.
“There.” Her fingers smooth briefly over my tie afterward. “Now you match my level of commitment to the aesthetic.”
“You planned this entire evening, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
At least she’s honest.
The drive to Gild is quiet in that dangerous way silence becomes when two people can’t stop thinking about touching each other.
My hand rests low against her thigh the entire ride.
It’s not in claim, it’s so I know this is real.
Every few minutes Vanessa’s fingers trace slowly along my wrist like she’s rewarding my restraint.
The club is already alive by the time we arrive.
Or maybe alive isn’t the right word. The Gild breathes.
Candles flicker from every surface, hundreds of flames casting gold light and deep shadows across velvet walls and polished dark wood.
Music pulses low through the rooms; not loud enough to overpower conversation, but just enough to sink beneath skin.
Bodies move through darkness in silk and lace and tailored black suits, some masked completely, others only partially hidden. People disappear easily here. But, that’s the point. The club exists for the parts people don’t allow others to see anywhere else.
Vanessa’s fingers slide through mine as we move deeper inside, and I notice it immediately. Eyes are everywhere. Men noticing her. Women noticing her. Everyone noticing her.
How could they not? The possessiveness that hits me should probably concern me more than it does. My intention tonight needs to be made clear. She is mine.
I pull her a tad closer. Vanessa notices as her mouth curves softly beneath the mask. Interesting. I realize she wants this. Wants everyone to know she’s mine. That she’s been claimed.
Oliver spots us and cocks his chin in invitation. He’s dressed in black tonight too; jacket open over a dark button-down, whiskey already in hand as he watches us approach with obvious amusement.
“Well.” His attention moves between us with measured precision. “This feels intense.”
Vanessa laughs beside me. “You say that like it’s an unusual occurrence here.”
“No.” Oliver lifts his glass to point it toward me. “Him looking at someone like he’s debating murder in a room full of people is the unusual part.”
“I’m standing right here.” I widen my stance.
“And somehow still proving my point.”
Vanessa’s fingers tighten once around mine and it grounds me in an unexpected way.
Spencer appears a few minutes later. Calm as ever.
He’s perfectly composed in a charcoal suit and silver mask.
His eyes land on Vanessa first, warm understanding flickering there before they shift toward me.
Not an ounce of competition or tension radiates from him.
If anything, the bastard looks entertained.
“Well.” Spencer sips his drink as his gaze flicks between us. “This escalated exactly the way I assumed it would.”
Vanessa actually laughs.
I stare at him, narrowing my eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Probably.”
“I appreciate you ending things gracefully,” Vanessa acknowledges.
“That’s because I enjoy surviving.” Spencer darts a quick look in my direction, a smirk on his perfectly chiseled face. Oliver nearly chokes on his whiskey laughing.
The conversation continues around me after that, but my focus fractures completely. Because Vanessa is standing beside me in black silk and lace beneath candlelight, fingers occasionally brushing mine, while shadows dance across exposed skin as low music vibrates through the room.
And suddenly Gild feels different tonight. It’s sharper and much more dangerous. Because this is the first time things matter. Not physically, not casually, but emotionally. She’s mine. The realization lands even harder this time, and I drain the rest of my whiskey in one swallow.
Vanessa notices. Of course she does. She always has; I just didn’t see it before. “You’re restless.”
I glance down at her. The candlelight catching her red lips and dark eyes behind silk.
“Yes.”
Her gaze softens at the honesty. Then she steps closer. Close enough that her perfume wraps around me. “What do you want?”
The question should not sound as intimate as it does. My fingers trace up the length of her spine. “You already know.”
The look she gives me after that nearly destroys what little restraint I have left. Three minutes later, I’m guiding her toward the private staircase with one hand gripping hers while candlelight flickers behind us.
Vanessa doesn’t speak. Neither do I. We don’t need to. The second the door closes behind us downstairs, the noise from the club fades into muffled silence. And something inside me settles as my control returns and my focus on her becomes laser sharp.
I peel off my jacket under Vanessa’s stare from the center of the room, candlelight painting soft gold across black silk and pale skin. She is art. A gorgeous piece I could stare at day and night.
I move toward the sound system first, selecting music low and dark enough to melt into the room before turning back toward her.
“Come here.”
The command lands with quiet authority. Vanessa obeys without hesitation. And Christ, that does something violent to me. I settle into the chair near the edge of the bed, my eyes never leaving hers.
“Take off the dress.”
There’s not a second of hesitation from her. Her fingers tug at the silk ribbon at the back of the corset, pulling them loose until the garment falls to her feet. Then they move to the zipper on the side of the skirt, sliding it down, loosening it so that the material pools in silence at her feet.
Silk stockings edged with black lace. Black silk garter resting low on her hips, straps on the front and back of her thighs clasped to the stockings. And the heels; black, shiny and four inches tall. She knew exactly what I would want.
My hands flex once against the arms of the chair. “Everything except the stockings.”
Vanessa’s breathing changes slightly then. I can tell its anticipation, and that has my length hardening beneath my pants. Fabric hits the floor piece by piece after that, candlelight flickering across newly exposed skin while the music wraps around us both like smoke.
I take my time looking at her. Not because I’m trying to intimidate her, but because I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing her.
“Lie on the bed.”
She crawls onto the mattress, eyes never leaving mine as she settles against dark sheets. She’s fucking beautiful. The way she trusts me. Even though it hasn’t been said, she’s mine in every way that matters.
I retrieve the silk restraints from the drawer beside the bed before moving toward her again. “Are you good?”
“Yes.” The response comes without hesitation. She answers with absolute certainty. That’s what I need. I tie her wrists above her head, attaching each one to a bedpost. I’m gentle, my movements slow and deliberate while she watches me through half-lowered lashes.
I pause, lean down and brush my lips over hers. “Yellow if you want me to slow down, red if you want me to stop.”
She blinks, then nods.
“You need to say the words, Nessa.”
“Yellow to slow down. Red to stop.”
I’m fascinated with her mouth when it moves, my attention diverting there long enough for her to squint up at me in confusion. I drag a thumb over her bottom lip, parting her mouth just enough for me to swipe my tongue inside to taste her. I want so much more, but not yet.
I lift the blindfold so she can see it, then secure the black silk gently over her eyes. The second it settles into place, her entire body reacts, her breath catching as her body bows toward me in anticipation. She trusts me implicitly and Christ if that doesn’t makes me even harder.
My palm skims along her thigh, fingers tracing lace and garter straps while a quiet sound escapes her throat. “There you are.”
It takes less than thirty seconds for me to undress, and then my fingers are gliding over the swell of her breasts, and then lower, between her legs, where she’s already so wet.
Vanessa shivers beneath my touch. And after that, I stop being gentle. Not cruel. Never cruel. But controlled in the exact way her body remembers. I thrust two fingers inside her heat and begin a tortured rhythm in and out of her, using my other hand to pinch and tease her nipples into hard peaks.
She orgasms in under a minute, the groan that leaves her causing my dick to harden to steel. I don’t think she ever relented this much control to me before, and it’s evident in her body’s response to me.
Every sound she makes tears through me. Every gasp. Every moan. Every helpless arch beneath my hands as I feast at the apex of her thighs, lapping up every bit of her essence, and I think if I never taste anything else again in this lifetime, I’d die a happy man.
She writhes under me as she lets go again, her fingers gripping the silk ties binding her wrists, her mouth open wide as she pants out my name again and again. When her back floats back to the bed, I press a kiss to the inside of her thigh and then rise to stand over her.
The sheets are soaked between her legs, her lipstick smeared against her teeth, tear streaks trail through the makeup on her face, and she’s never looked more beautiful to me.
“Vanessa, are you okay?”
Her head bobs up and down, her chest heaving with her breathing.
“You need to say it out loud.” I trail a finger up the side of her breast and then pinch her nipple.
“Ahhhh.” Her back arches as she nods again, but she says the words I need to hear. “Yes, yes, I’m okay.”
My mouth latches onto her nipple a second later, and I suck and tug on each one, Vanessa whimpering under me as they turn a deep red, my tongue flicking against the hard tips, her hip thrusting up, searching for more. “Hayden, please.”
“Please, what?”
“Fuck me.” She’s begging me and they are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard.
“What do you say?” I torture her a little more, wanting every last bit of her compliance.
“Please.” Her body wriggles on the bed as she pleads. “Please, Hayden. Please fuck me.”
Those words cut through me like a sword sweeping through a villain, and I fall willingly. I climb between her legs and shove inside of her in one hard thrust. And then I don’t stop.
I push in and out of her, my hands reaching up to release the blindfold, her eyes meeting and locking onto mine.
The candles burn lower while the music pulses around us as Vanessa comes apart for me again and again on dark silk sheets with my name on her lips.
And the terrifying thing? I’ve never felt more focused in my entire life.
Later, as both of us lie beneath the sheets, Vanessa lifts her gaze to mine through softened mascara and flushed cheeks. There’s no fear, no uncertainty as she looks over at me. Only satisfaction and trust.
Mine. The word invades for the third time tonight and contentment so complete settles somewhere deep in my chest and stays there. And for the first time in a very long time, I realize I’m not afraid of needing someone anymore.