Opulent Obsession: A Dark Secret Society Romance

by Hensley, Alta

  I grasped her hand and nodded. “Together.”

  And with that, we walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs, hand in hand, side by side.

  18

  Fallon

  “There she is,” one of the Elders said, a fat man with a shiny bald head. His stomach made the robe paunch out in the middle like a medieval friar’s, except that he had the bottom half bunched and held back by his belt to expose his flaccid penis that slowly hardened again at the sight of me.

  A lascivious smile lit his face as he made his way across the small white ballroom to where Rafe and I entered the room, men and naked women parting before us like the red sea.

  The Elder began to stroke his fat little cock, rapidly and rough, like a boy just learning how to masturbate. “Get her over here, Initiate. I want to squeeze those little titties as I ass-fuck her.”

  More men gathered at the Elder’s side, obvious interest on their faces. More hands went to cocks. One of them grabbed a woman being fucked by another Elder, presumably a lesser one, and forced her to her knees in front of his hard dick.

  She yelped a little in surprise, but the noise was quickly cut off by the Elder, a man in his fifties maybe, with salt and pepper hair.

  With a startled shock, I realized I recognized him. It was Rafe’s friend Walker St. Claire’s father. He was a politician. And apparently at ease in this setting, because he wasted no time authoritatively shoving his cock into the woman’s mouth and down her throat.

  Her eyes bugged out at first as she choked a little around him. Unlike his short, fat-cocked friar friend, he was well-endowed, and she struggled to take him.

  “You,” Mr. St. Claire snapped to another girl. “Get in here. Suck on my balls and you.” Another snap. Another girl—oh shit, it was Beau’s girl, the other Belle. She looked wide-eyed as a deer in headlights as Mr. St. Claire snapped at her again when she didn’t immediately move.

  “Massage my prostate. Make me come like a racehorse,” he barked at her.

  When she was slow to obey, looking at Beau as if for instruction, Mr. St. Claire barked, “Now! I gave you a fucking instruction, girl. That’s a white collar around your fucking neck so get your fingers up my ass before I decide to fuck yours and show you what a real man feels like!”

  Beau didn’t seem to take offense or really much notice at all. His belle had on a white collar just like I did.

  Had she been fucked already by one of these men? How many times? By how many men? And Beau had just stood there and let it happen?

  But... wasn’t that what I was asking Rafe to do? So why did the thought of Beau just letting this happen to his belle piss me off?

  I looked to the ceiling and the glittering chandelier as the wet sounds of the women slurping at Mr. St. Claire’s cock and balls echoed around the room.

  “Jesus, I didn’t say shove your fingers up my ass,” Mr. St. Claire roared, turning so violently he yanked his cock away from the other womens’ servicing mouths. “I said massage my prostate.”

  The Bambi-eyed belle, Abby, I think her name was if I remembered right, just blinked up in shock and what looked a little like fear. Then Mr. St. Claire rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Beau, maybe teach your belle some of the fucking basics of pleasuring a man. Uma, get back there and show her where a man’s fucking prostate is.”

  Mr. St. Claire glared at Beau. “Consider this a fucking favor.”

  Beau just gave a mild, uninterested smirk, and raised his bourbon glass in toast. He barely seemed to register what was going on around him, like he didn’t even care if he was here, and certainly barely gave a shit about what was happening to his belle. Montgomery stood beside him, his back to the naked debauchery playing out behind him.

  But I didn’t have any more time to take in the drama across the room, because the fat friar had made his way to me.

  “Oooo, she’s a ripe one, isn’t she?” A slug-like tongue slipped out of the man’s mouth and slicked his lip as he reached out a hand for my breast. His other hand was still on his cock, pumping away, the fat little purple head peeking out from the end of his fisted hand every other second.

  I couldn’t help taking a step backwards in revulsion.

  But I just bumped into a different man, my ass grazing against another hard cock. It was like at a club, where a man comes up behind you and starts to grind against you—except we were both naked and his hands immediately came to my waist, running down my sides until he reached my ass cheeks, which he squeezed hard. He rammed his cock between my ass cheeks, clutching onto them and fucking his cock up and down the fleshy channel he made with my ass.

  Another man’s hand was on my back, pushing me over so the man fucking my ass cheeks had better access.

  The next second, a sharp smack had me stumbling forward. The man clutching my cheeks around his cock had just spanked me, and he hadn’t held back. I was sure a red handprint was already blooming.

  And then it was like open season. I was surrounded by men, a crowd of them covered over me like a tide.

  I looked around desperately for Rafe, but I’d been swept away from him, or him from me. Whatever had happened, he was nowhere in sight—though granted my sight was blocked by all the tall men surrounding me on all sides, their arms and hands like octopus tentacles reaching for my every crevice.

  Hands on my ass, pulling my cheeks apart. Another finger probing. Fingers pinched my nipple, then twisted. I cried out even as a man pulled me to the ground.

  The floor was hard, and cold, so cold on my bare back. A man’s cock hung low in my face. “Suck it,” came a demanding voice from above. “Suck it down your throat. Grab my balls and pull on them while you suck me dry.”

  But then another cock was there, too, rubbing against my breasts, a hand rapidly masturbating. “Fuck, look at her. She’s so fresh. Look how she quivers. Fuck her face, Carl. Do it. Make her choke on it.”

  The speaker shoved the tip of his cock against my breasts every time it was freed from his hand. “Fuck her. Do it. Oh fuck, look at these pretty titties.” He slapped my breast with the hand not squeezing his cock and then before I’d even fully realized what was happening, he sprayed semen all across my breasts.

  Another man immediately took his place, using the previous man’s semen as lubrication to fuck my breasts.

  “Take it, girl. Suck it,” said the other man, holding his cock to my lips. “Open up and take what Daddy has to feed you. Suck it like you mean it.” His voice got rougher. “Suck it hard, suck it like it’s the best cock you’ve ever tasted, suck it like you want me to fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked.”

  Somebody spat on my pussy. Then there was laughter. “Look how wet she is.”

  The man holding my legs leaned over and breathed on my pussy. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it feel good for you. I’ll make you squirm while we fuck you. I’ll make you howl in pleasure.”

  He started to massage my clit and my eyes flew open, looking everywhere, looking for Rafe.

  Rafe. Rafe!

  Too many things were happening at once and I wasn’t ready for a single one of them. There were too many hands. I didn’t have a chance to decide if I was okay or not with one touch before another was intruding.

  And I knew I only had moments before the real intrusion began, before one of them shoved a cock somewhere inside me, maybe more than one at a time, before they—

  “STOP!” came a roar as the man massaging my pussy dropped his head to start eating me at the same time as the cock at my lips impatiently tried to push inside my mouth.

  Then the men around me started lifting their heads one by one, looking behind them like there was some kind of disturbance.

  I heard cries, scuffling, then another man was yanked backward and a hole opened up in the wall of men towering over me and surrounding me.

  It was Rafe!

  He yanked the one bending over my legs backward by his neck collar, choking the man and making his hands go to his throat. He choked a
nd landed on his ass as he scrambled to get away from Rafe.

  All I knew was the wave of relief that swept through me like a tidal wave. I didn’t know what would happen next, but it wouldn’t be a strange dick getting shoved in my mouth or my pussy or my ass.

  It wouldn’t be more foreign hands touching my most intimate places as if they had a right to it.

  Thank God, thank God, thank God.

  Actually... thank Rafe.

  I reached out for him and his hand was there, just like it had been when I extended my hand to him upstairs and asked him to trust me.

  Now I was trusting him, and he wasn’t letting me down.

  His grip was solid as he pulled me off the ground and cradled me underneath his strong arm, cuddling me underneath his shoulder.

  But his gentleness with me didn’t mean he was calm. No, he shook with rage. “What the fuck is wrong with all of you?” he shouted to the now silent and still ballroom. “I don’t care what the fuck Mrs. Hawthorne said. She could be a daughter of one of you sick fucks!”

  I cringed against him at the words. Jesus, is that what he actually thought? I believed Mrs. H would never put me in that situation, but maybe she didn’t know the truth? Dear God, what if she’d been wrong, and one of these men—

  “Actually,” said Mr. St. Claire, gently pushing the two women kneeling at his feet to the side, his cock now at half-mast. He pulled his silver robe back around himself and tied it, the sheen of the fabric catching from the glittering chandelier above his head. “She’s not the daughter of any man in this room.”

  “How do you know?” Rafe challenged, not backing down one iota. He waved around the room. “Her mother was one of these women. You all could have fucked her.” Part of me was afraid for him—he was challenging one of the alphas of the Order. But I was also proud.

  He stood up for me in a way no one ever had before. And as I stood wrapped in his protective arm, watching him glare at Mr. St. Claire and demand answers, I’d never felt more treasured. I’d never felt more like I was worth… well… fighting for. And I really wanted to fucking know St. Claire’s answer. These men held knowledge that belonged to me. It wasn’t fair for them to hold it back.

  “Because we know,” Mr. St. Claire said.

  “Who is my father?” I demanded. “Tell me. I deserve to know.”

  Mr. St. Claire’s steely eyes moved from Rafe’s to me, and there they softened. He didn’t look at me lasciviously like the others did, and I realized that he’d never approached me or touched me like the other men had. As if he’d almost always had a... fatherly affection for me. Oh my God, was it him? But wait, he’d said my father wasn’t in the room. What the hell was going on? I was so confused.

  “Your father was a member of the Order, but he is no longer,” Mr. St. Claire said.

  I just shook my head, my frustration boiling over. “What does that mean? Who is it?”

  Mr. St. Claire’s jaw hardened, even as his face remained compassionate. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

  My mouth dropped open. “But it’s my father. I have a right to know!”

  Still Mr. St. Claire stayed stone-faced.

  To come so far, and still not get the answers I was seeking. And then I blinked. Holy shit. Was that part of why I’d come? For my inheritance, and for Rafe if I was honest with myself. I could admit it now. It had killed me imagining him doing all the things I knew that went on here with another woman.

  I was a jealous witch and I’d always wanted it to be just me. Only me. Always ever me.

  And I’d wanted this piece, too. To know who my father was. And now to stand here, and know that these men in front of me knew, but they were intentionally withholding the information from me…

  But then Rafe’s father stepped forward, his robe also securely on. “Your father is Edward Kingston.”

  I blinked. Kingston? But wait, that meant...

  “I’m sorry to have kept it from you, Montgomery,” Rafe’s father continued, looking across the room to where Montgomery stood, face stunned. “You both deserved to know earlier.”

  My gaze shot back and forth between the two men. Wait, WHAT? My father was... Montgomery’s father? That meant we were—

  Oh my God, I had a brother. I had a brother.

  The glass of bourbon Montgomery held fell from his hand and shattered on the floor, but then he crossed the ballroom like a silver streak. He yanked the Order robe he wore off over his head as he went. Thankfully, he still wore his suit underneath it.

  As soon as he got to me, he tugged me away from Rafe just far enough to gently settle his silver robe over my head to cover my nakedness. Then he crushed me to him in an embrace. His body shook.

  “Holy shit,” Montgomery whispered in my ear. “Sister. I can’t believe I have a sister. I’m not an only child anymore.”

  Well, that was it. I was done for. A sob erupted in my chest at his words, because it meant now I wasn’t an only child either.

  I’d always felt out of step, like I didn’t belong. Like I was considered an interloper, less than, by all the rich, wealthy upper-class people around me. But here was Montgomery Kingston of all people proclaiming me as his family. Embracing me as one of his own. Claiming me in front of a room full of people.

  He squeezed me tighter, then pulled back, a wide smile mixed with concern on his face. He wiped at my tears with his thumbs. He shook his head, still looking awestruck. “I can’t wait to introduce you to my fianceé, Grace. She’s going to love you.”

  Which naturally only made me bawl harder. He wasn’t just claiming me in this moment. He maybe even wanted me to be a part of his life? Oh my God, it was stupid that such a little comment could have me come apart at the seams.

  Montgomery kept wiping my eyes, being big-brotherly already, as Rafe rubbed my back. Tucked between Montgomery at my front and Rafe at my back, I’d never felt more protected. I knew in that moment that the two of them would do anything to protect me, even though I barely knew Montgomery. I knew what sort of man he was by his reputation and from my brief interactions with him growing up as Rafe’s friend.

  He was a good man.

  And he was my brother. The thought brought a fresh rush of joy and gratitude. And then I remembered, holy shit, I had a father now, too.

  I reached out and grasped Montgomery’s hands. “What’s our dad like?” I asked eagerly.

  Montgomery’s face immediately fell. “I’m so sorry. He’s a complete asshole piece of shit. Don’t get your hopes up.”

  I felt disappointed but then nodded. I’d always known in the back of my head that any man who didn’t claim me and left my mom in the state that she’d been was likely not a great man. It was okay to have it confirmed, even though it still hurt that Mr. Kingston had never wanted any part of me. But that wasn’t Montgomery’s fault. I clutched Montgomery’s hands tighter and smiled at him. “I can’t wait to meet Grace.”

  Montgomery just shook his head in wonder at me again and pulled me close for another hug. Then he pulled back and stood tall, glaring out at the crowd around us. “This Trial… no”—his face flushed with anger and certainty—“this entire Initiation, is hereby over. My sister will endure no more. She has passed with flying colors and has earned her reward. This ends today. Right this second.”

  Rafe moved from behind me so that he stood by my side. He reached out and clasped my hand, standing tall. “I’ll be finishing with Fallon, one way or the other. It’s up to you to decide if I’ve passed or failed my Initiation.”

  Then my beloved Rafe’s strong face crumpled as he looked at his father. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I couldn’t do these Trials the way you wanted me to. I couldn’t stay quiet. I couldn’t be the man Tim was. I’m just not him.”

  And then Rafe’s facade really cracked, and his voice broke. “And I’m so fucking sorry for Tim. He called me that night. It’s my fault. He called and asked me for a ride. But I didn’t pick up. If only I’d just picked up. I could have saved him, but
I didn’t pick up.”

  Rafe’s father broke from the crowd and he headed towards Rafe, the usually reserved man’s face full of an emotion I’d never seen. “Oh, son, no. No, don’t think that. You’ve carried that all these years? I knew he called you. I saw his phone logs back then. Son, he called me too that night.”

  “What?” Rafe all but barked.

  Rafe’s father had gotten to him and reached out and grabbed his son’s shoulders. “I talked to him that night. I’m sorry I never told you. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know how to talk about that night. I’m sorry, son. He was drunk. Again. I told him not to drive. He promised me he wouldn’t. I offered to pick him up, but he said he was just going to sleep it off in his truck. He swore it. Son, it wouldn’t have mattered if you’d picked up. He would have told you the same. Usually, he did sleep it off in his truck if he’d drunk too much.

  “But sometimes, and I didn’t realize it until after that…” His father’s voice cracked. “Until after that night, that sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he drove anyway. Your brother had his troubles. I’m so sorry. But it wasn’t your fault, Rafe. It wasn’t your fault.”

  And those words were Rafe’s breaking point, because he dropped his face into his father’s shoulder and his back shook in a way that I knew meant he was crying. His father tugged him in and awkwardly patted his back, neither man familiar with showing emotion in front of the other.

  But they were trying, and I knew I was witnessing a healing moment, for the both of them. Oh, Rafe, oh, baby. I hoped after this moment he could truly believe it deep, deep down. It wasn’t his fault.

  Even if circumstances were different, it wouldn’t have been his fault. Tim was responsible for his own actions that night. Rafe had done nothing to make Tim drink and drive, and I was glad if this could finally help him believe it and know it in his soul. It would be the first step anyway.