Chapter 44
LORENZO
“OMG, Lorenzo, look at this!”
I step inside our suite.
During dinner, the hotel staff had slipped into our suite to surprise us with a more romantic setting when we returned.
To start, the room’s recessed LEDs are dimmed. Music drifts softly through hidden speakers.
And one of the hotel workers has taken the sexy nightgown I had Antoine buy Em and draped it across the bed.
The fabric, a deep claret... shimmers under the bright moonlight peeking in from the window.
If Em were wearing it right now, I’d tear it off her.
“This is my best birthday ever! Should I put on the nightie now? I can wear it while we nibble on the strawberries and chocolates there on the coffee table.”
“That’s one idea. But I have another,” I say, charmed by how excited she is.
“Okay, but just so you know, someone’s filled the bathtub with rose petals! Maybe we can take a bath together first?”
“The bath can keep. Now, I’d like you to slip into something comfortable. We’re going to be exploring.”
“Ah, a mysterious birthday,” she says, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll change now.”
I lead Em out of the suite and to the private library of this historic estate.
We’re alone in the vast room, which is just how I want it.
The room must look exactly as it did a few hundred years back.
An elegant Persian rug in deep reds and blues covers the hardwood floor, its pattern worn soft by centuries of footsteps.
The walls, paneled in deeply burnished walnut, reflect the amber glow of the roaring fireplace.
“Why does the hotel have it going in summer?” Em asks, looking at the flames licking the wood.
“Ambiance. Maybe they get an extra star for it? Charge an extra thousand bucks a room,” I say, coming up behind her and taking her in my arms.
I inhale the fragrance of her auburn hair, twisted into its customary French twist. I haven’t yet told Em how much I enjoy the tease. The anticipation of knowing I’ll rip it free from its pins.
“Come,” I say, forcing myself to break away.
I grab two of the candles from the wall sconces, their genuine flames burning bright.
“Take one and use it as a lantern,” I say, giving one to her.
grabbing one of the sconces on the wall, burning real flames.
“Take one and use it as a lantern,” I say, giving one to her.
“I feel like Nancy Drew in one of those old mysteries. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
I glance at my phone, then move toward one of the bookshelf-lined walls.
“Looking for a book in particular?” Em asks in a teasing tone.
She follows me as I search the shelves, craning to see what’s guiding me on my screen.
“A very specific red book,” I say, angling my phone away.
I find the book tucked between two larger volumes.
It’s thin, with faded gilt lettering on the spine.
I’m careful to pull it out slowly. When I do, the entire wall swings open on a hinge.
A blast of chill air hits us.
“Oh my God,” she says, pressing both hands together. “An old-fashioned secret passageway! I love it.”
“It’s a birthday treat for you. I’ve heard you love literature set in the Gilded Age. I found this hotel for that reason. It was owned by a famous industrialist back in the day.”
Then I lead Em into the cavern-like passageway.
My phone’s flashlight cuts a second beam ahead of us.
Cobwebs drape across the narrow corridor like forgotten curtains, reflecting the light.
The concierge said it would be pitch black in here.
But it’s not.
Flickering candles set in shallow alcoves cast ribbons of light across the darkness.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Em asks. The candlelight catches her uncertain yet excited expression.
“I’m spooked,” she admits, her laugh coming out unsteady. “Can we go back?”
“Not before we initiate this place properly.”
“Initiate?”
“Yes. The industrialist who built this mansion wanted a playground of sorts to bring his consorts.”
“Playground? Consorts? But this is the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes. That’s why he built it here. Quite the salacious story, but we have better things to do right now.”
I step toward her until she edges backward against the rough cavern wall. “You remember your ‘safe word’, don’t you?”
Emily’s eyes flash when she realizes from my tone this escapade is not a Nancy Drew moment.
And that what’s to happen will never make it to Masterpiece Theatre.
With new understanding, her lips part as she meets my eyes.
“Of course I remember the words,” she whispers. The way her tone drips with playful defiance makes my cock throb. “Will I need them?”
As if to give truth to her words, the tips of her erect nipples burst through the thin fabric of her T-shirt.
Then her fingers work at my belt, nimble and teasing.
But I’m not in the mood for games. Not tonight.
I seize her shoulders, pushing her down until her knees hit the cold stone.
Em’s lips part in anticipation. I feel her breath warm against the denim stretched taut over my cock.
“I command you to suck me as if your life depends on it.”
Em nods, black lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she obeys.
I watch with satisfaction as Em’s eager fingers peel down my zipper. Its metallic rasp fills the silence between us.
Then her mouth is on me.
Em’s tongue traces the ridge of my crown. Then she brings her lips and fingers into the act while her tongue flutters around the tip.
“Good girl,” I groan, fisting her hair.
Her lips stretch so obscenely wide the ‘prim Emily’ of yore would not recognize herself.
Em hollows her cheeks, her tongue swirling in slow, deliberate circles.
She continues to tease me with tiny licks, sucks, and kisses.
Though Em tries to go deeper, she’s a small girl. Her mouth is even smaller.
It’s time she’s properly initiated.
I fist her hair, using it to lift her face so she’s looking into my eyes.
“Entertain me. Remove your clothes. Slowly.”
Em obeys immediately. I settle against the cavern wall, making myself comfortable. Then watch to see what my little schoolmarm is capable of.
Em begins by unbuttoning her simple white top. Then she peels off the lacy strap of her bra.
She pulls down her jeans so her butt’s right in front of my face.
What a gorgeous ass. You’d never know it existed when it had been covered by that ridiculous tweed suit. Seeing I’m ready, she straddles me.
“Shall I give you a lap dance?”
“Do you know how?” I feel an irritating sense of surprise.
“I’ve seen the movies. Anora, for one,” she says. Em dances. She’s a beginner, but good.
Yet I’m rock hard exactly because it’s Em who’s performing for me. My hands cup her enticing breasts, squeezing the nipples harder than I know I should.
But my Em can take it. I tear her hair free of the tight ponytail and let it spill over her shoulders.
I spin her around and bend her down. Then I slip into her. She gasps, as always. A genuine Emily trademark.
“This is so good, Lorenzo. Don’t stop.”
“I’m MASTER to you,” I say, which only makes her ass move harder and faster against me as I slam into her.
I focus all my attention on touching her secret, sensitive places.
When she makes those little meows of pleasure, I know she’s ready. We climax together. An explosion of pleasure.
Gathering her into my arms, we recline together on the rough uneven cavern floor.
And as I embrace her, I see our shadow reflected against the cavern wall.
I’m not a superstitious person. But at that moment I feel an odd sense of foreboding and terror.
It can’t be the shadows. So it must be something else. Something I can’t name.
“What’s wrong?” She asks.
“Nothing,” I say with a smile, smoothing her hair.
“Something’s wrong,” she says.
“We better get back.” And as we walk out of the cave and back into the safety of the library, I wonder what it was I felt.
And why?