As he helped me dress, our eyes locked, and still no words were necessary.
We walked back out into the hallway and descended the stairs, swapping knowing glances with each other. Sated, we searched out refreshments to quench our thirst.
Damien hunted down some champagne and we toasted to my first time here.
“I want more,” I admitted.
“What do you want to see?”
“Another submissive,” I said softly. “I want to see my future.”
Raising his mask a little—and mine too—he brought me in for a leisurely kiss, his tongue tangling with mine, his lips forceful and unforgiving—as though punishing me for my insatiable need for more erotica.
With our masks pulled back down, we were ready to proceed.
“This way,” said Damien, leading me on.
Soon, we would leave this place never to return and for the first time I knew the sacrifice Damien had made. His true nature was being twisted this way and that until nothing was going to be left of his private life.
“Back home,” I said, walking beside him, “wherever we go, we’ll create a place where we can be us.”
His eyes showed understanding. “This is why I adore you.”
“Teach me everything.”
Damien gestured down a long corridor. “This is a good place to start.”
Beneath the dim lighting and between the tight walls we made our way down into what felt like the heart of the manor.
I saw recognition on Damien’s face as he greeted another butler. “Giles.”
Giles gave a low bow. “Do you want access to the Burgundy Chamber, sir?”
Damien gave a nod of thanks.
“You may proceed.” Giles motioned toward another corridor that had a sharp turn.
When we made it to the end, Damien opened the door and we went inside the room.
The décor followed the theme of “heavy on the male DNA” we’d seen in other areas of the mansion. A leather couch and several chairs sat on a blue and red Persian rug in the center of the room, with lots of space left around this staged furniture.
On the walls were portraits of historical men, sharply dressed famous figures, who’d somehow influenced American history. Was this a hint that the secret club went back centuries?
The room was already filled with men and a few women; some with submissives kneeling at their feet. The air crackled with electricity. They stood around the outside of the room leaving a space in the center. At one end was an empty armchair and at the other end a naked woman provocatively knelt, delicate silver chains dangling over her body but covering nothing of her pert nipples and closely shaven sex. Her head was bowed as though waiting, the half-mask over her eyes only revealing a stark prettiness framed with long brunette curls.
She sat calmly, waiting—the key pendant twinkling against her skin.
My hand snapped to mine as though I’d found my soul sister, a woman with whom I shared a commonality. We were both submissive—both of us daring to explore our sexuality, but clearly, she was far braver.
Giles returned to us carrying a silver tray and offered us drinks. We took the two glasses with gratitude. Sipping mine, I confirmed he’d given us sherry.
Giles bowed and backed out of the room, leaving us.
Damien took the drink from me and placed it behind us on a bookcase.
My hand reached up to massage the back of my neck, trying to relieve the tension—anticipation making me anxious. I still felt the pang of where he’d fucked me in my ass. I was sore but sated and reveling in the way my skin remained flushed. The memories of that room would always be cherished.
Damien’s hand replaced mine at my nape and his fingers dug into tense muscle.
“Can you see?” he whispered.
“Yes.” The sweet taste of sherry had soothed me a little.
With his hands on my shoulders now, Damien moved us so that we stood at the back of the room, right behind a leather chair.
He directed me. “Here.”
We were hidden a little by the high-backed chair.
At the opposite side of the room a door opened. A man entered through it, also wearing a tux, and like everyone else he, too, was wearing a mask. He strolled across the space and sat down in the armchair opposite the kneeling woman.
The room hushed.
The naked submissive crawled the distance to where he sat.
My face blanched for her—she was willingly performing for this crowd of fifty or more guests, unabashed at her own nakedness. She knelt upright between the man’s thighs.
Damien pulled me into a hug against his chest. “She likes being watched.”
He knew her, or he’d seen her before, of that I was certain.
Responding obediently, the submissive placed her hands on the man’s knees. With a nod from him the brunette unbuckled and then unzipped his pants, exposing him. She licked her lips expectantly as she eased out his cock. She wiped a bead of pre-cum off the purple head and licked her finger sensuously.
Dazed, I watched her stroke his erection as though no one watched, brazenly working her palms up and down the length of him, examining his cock adoringly.
She drew him all the way into her mouth and suckled, then pulled back a little, leaving him shiny with wetness as she lavished her tongue along the top of his shaft. She dipped her head to suckle his sac.
“See that,” said the man, his voice husky, “how she likes to focus on my balls?”
She gave a half-distracted nod to confirm this, running the tip of her tongue around his head and causing him to lift his hips.
A deep, low throb in my pussy caused me to keen a little, and I put a hand on the back of the chair to steady myself. Damien’s arm tightened around my waist.
My clit throbbed deliciously at the sight before me of a woman’s head bobbing between a man’s thighs. I tried to behave as though this scene had little effect on me, but all the while my thighs were becoming sticky with arousal. Licking my lips, I imagined what it must feel like to have his fullness stretch my lips wide as I sucked on the length of him, feeling my jaw stretch from his girth.
Jolting me out of my trance, Damien’s hand slid up my dress, gliding up my thigh, his fingers trailing closer to my panties.
My thoughts cycled around the idea that the woman on her knees may have done this to the man before. I searched his masked face and then hers for any clue they knew each other.
Damien’s warm hand cupped my sex, sending a shiver of delight through me. I swayed in a daze, more than a little aware of the dampness at the triangle of my panties. I widened my thighs a bit to give him more access to my pussy.
“Good girl,” he whispered at my compliance.
I continued to watch the couple, the way the man’s lips parted as his breathing became ragged, his long lashes fluttering, body tense.
I made a note of what the woman did to send him into a silent frenzy, the way her tongue ran around the head of his cock, flickering at his frenulum, the way she took him deep into her mouth and at the same time held his stare.
His thighs opened wider and his head fell back against the chair as he sunk into the seat, resigning himself to her actions.
I wondered how she’d found this place and come to be here. Her heavy-lidded eyes were aflame with desire as she swapped erotic glances with her master. She looked up at him with awe…and how could she not with his dazzling control?
Damien’s fingers dipped beneath my panties and found my clit. My face flushed wildly beneath my mask at this hidden act—yet I wouldn’t have wanted to experience this any other way. He flicked and teased my sex, easing its desperate ache for attention. Though all these people couldn’t see his actions, knowing he was doing this with them so close was exhilarating.
“Taking notes?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I managed.
Between my thighs came that familiar rising of sensations that were close to stealing my breath away, lulling me, revving me into a
state of wonder. Damien’s fingers continued relentlessly, unceasing.
The man in the tuxedo at the center of this erotic play flicked his fingers in an order.
The woman sat up and raised her chin, preparing for what came next. He rose to his feet with his right hand stroking his shaft as he positioned himself over her.
Entranced by their wanton glances and moans of lust, soft sighs escaped my lips as the scene played out. My sex was soaked with arousal, my pussy tingling more with each passing moment.
The mysterious man became rigid, letting out a groan that caught in his throat, his hips rocking as he stroked his cock from base to tip with a steady rhythm. He came hard, glistening streams arching and then showering upon her breasts.
With her head up, her hands massaged the creaminess over her tits, seemingly swooning as his warmth bathed her in spurting jerks. She tweaked her nipples as she raised her focus obediently to meet his.
Wanting it all.
Grateful.
A perfect submissive, her brazen sexuality a remarkable gift to treasure.
Would I ever act so wantonly in front of so many? I wasn’t sure, but I knew that being here was the greatest privilege.
Damien’s fingers continued to adore me during these drawn-out minutes in the only way a Godman could—with a scorching passion that left my sex throbbing.
Even when he pulled his hand away leaving me sated, I couldn’t stop wanting his touch.
Finally, he’d given me this.
My focus returned to the center of the room as the man sat back down as though waiting for something else to occur.
“Out,” he ordered.
The pretty brunette hurried from the room like a scorned child, turning to glance back at me through that half-mask with a smirk before exiting. It was then I noticed a familiar birthmark on her upper lip. A brunette Marilyn Monroe.
Damien pulled me into a hug, and I sank against his body, his warmth enveloping me. His strong arms wrapped around me possessively as though he felt proud that we’d shared another first together.
I didn’t want to leave this place. There was so much more to see and to experience. He’d given me permission to explore my sexuality and I adored him for it. My body was still wracked with arousal, shuddering through the images branded into my mind of that beautiful woman who’d rushed out of the room all too quickly.
“Did you like that?” Damien asked huskily.
I gave a nod, cursed by this need to be fucked again and soon.
“I thought that might be something you’d like.” Damien reached for the sherry glass and offered it to me.
“You don’t think I’ve had too much to drink?”
He turned his back on the crowd. “Clearly you haven’t had enough.”
He lifted his mask a little and raised the sherry glass, drinking the liquor.
I smirked at his retort. “Where did the submissive go?”
“To freshen up, I imagine.” Damien chuckled as he lowered his mask. “She’ll be back. This is her fantasy, after all.”
“Hers?”
“This room was orchestrated to fit her reverie. This is her fantasy come to life.”
I felt relieved to know she was the mistress of this setting.
Oh, my God.
There had been a pinky ring on her left hand—a ruby.
I suddenly remembered where I’d seen the woman before. The shock of this realization stunned me into silence.
The only place in Vanguard I was allowed to visit alone was a female spa. It was empty, except for her…the girl with the ruby ring. Curious, I’d followed the mystery submissive to see what I could discover.
When she’d removed her mask, I was sure she was the woman I’d seen at the 118 News Club with Salvatore Galante.
There was no way I could remove my mask—even if she asked me to.
She stepped out of the communal showers having washed off all the evidence of what she’d done in that room. Grabbing a towel, she dried herself off in front of a locker.
I approached her. “Hey.”
She looked at me intently, as though trying to work out my identity. “Hi.”
“Are we alone?”
Her brows drew together. “I think so.”
“That was amazing…what you just did.”
“It felt amazing.”
“You’re so brave.”
She glanced at my diamond key necklace and her expression turned inquisitive. Clearly someone who wore this pendant should be used to that kind of erotic play.
“Do you have a second?” I whispered.
She glanced at me suspiciously. “I’ve not met you before, right?”
I felt a wave of relief that she didn’t recognize me.
She gestured to a small alcove. “In here.”
Still naked, she wrapped the delicate chains back around her body. “I’m Phoebe,” she said. “I have to go soon.”
“I’m…”
“That’s okay. I’ll call you O.”
That made me smile.
She fixed the chain around her breasts and looked up. “Want me to orchestrate a fantasy?”
“Um, no. How long have you been a member?”
“Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“You want a threesome with your boyfriend?” She smirked. “I can do that.”
“No. But thank you.” I stared at her sparkling pinky ring.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Have you any idea what they’ll do to you?”
“What?”
I took a deep breath. “How long have you worked for Galante?”
She froze; her expression panic-stricken.
Shit.
She really did work for Galante.
“You’re in so much trouble,” I said.
She swallowed hard.
“I can help you, Phoebe.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“So it’s fine for me to go tell one of the butlers here?”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”
“See you later, Phoebe.” I went to leave. “Have fun.”
“Please don’t say anything,” she said breathlessly.
I looked back at her. “How much does he pay you?”
“Hardly anything. Galante fucking owns me.”
“Why?”
“I was turning tricks at a private club. He threatened to give the evidence to the police.”
“Wouldn’t that be safer for you than this?”
She was a spy at Vanguard, reporting back to Galante. The risk she was taking was unthinkable. Some of Washington’s most powerful men undoubtedly frequented the club. I dreaded to think of what would happen to anyone who betrayed their secrets.
“I’ll pay you,” she stuttered. “I don’t have a lot but—”
“I don’t want money. I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
She looked distraught.
“What can you tell me about him?”
“Nothing.”
“If I leave this room, I’m going straight to the top.”
“We can’t talk here,” she whispered.
“I don’t have much time, so spill.”
Damien was outside, probably wondering where I was by now.
“You need to trust me,” I said. “I came straight to you. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“How did you know I’m connected with Salvatore?”
“You go first.”
Phoebe gave a resigned nod. “He’s the most powerful man in Washington. He likes to call himself the King Maker.”
“Wow.” He was full of himself.
“I once overheard Galante say he owns everyone in this town because he has the body.”
“What?” I sputtered. “He killed someone?”
She shook her head. “Not that kind of body. BODI. It’s an anagram.”
“What does it stand for
?”
Phoebe stepped forward and whispered, “Box of Damaging Indiscretions.”
“Scandals?”
“Promise me I can trust you.”
Placing my hand on my heart, I gave her a nod.
“He owns them…everyone he’s ever collected a scandal on. Some people don’t even know they’re in his collection. He waits for the right time to release evidence of their misconduct. He blackmails men with what he knows.”
“Where does he get his information?” And then I realized—from women like Phoebe.
“He has many sources. He pays for stories. Like TMZ, but they go nuclear.”
“Where does he keep the BODI?”
“I can’t talk here. I’m meant to be back.”
I wondered what else she’d be doing in that room. This time watching her was out of the question.
“You can come in if you like,” she offered.
“I’m fine. You like being here?”
“I fought hard to become a member.” Her fingers traced her key pendant.
“You’re a trained submissive?”
“Of course.” She glanced at my necklace. “You too, right?”
“Meet me tomorrow at the Emissary Café at four. Do you know it?”
“On 21st Street?”
“That’s it. We’ll talk more there.”
“I didn’t want to do it. This place is everything to me. But Galante told me he’d ruin my life. I’ve seen him do it to so many people.”
“We’ll get you away from him. Hang in there, okay?”
“He’s dangerous,” she whispered. “I think he’s going to sabotage the election.”
A chill slithered up my spine. “How?”
“Later. I have to go.”
She ran from the room.
My chest tightened. The voting booths would open in five days. What did Galante have on Senator Godman? Had Phoebe overheard a threat?
I hurried out of the spa, and found Damien waiting for me at the end of the hallway.
“Everything all right?” he asked. “I was close to coming in there.”
“Just freshening up,” I said calmly. “Can we go home?”
“We can do anything you like, sweetheart. Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Every moment,” I said wistfully, taking his arm.
He glanced at his watch. “Tamer’s coming back at midnight. We can sit by the pool until he’s here.”
Pandora's Pleasure: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance Page 25
