by Zara Cox
Music strains through the house from the single bedroom upstairs. I had the upstairs of the house modified to a specific layout, one that announced the space as fit for only one purpose.
The giving of pleasure.
I stride up the stairs in measured steps. Sultry laughter designed to entice weaves through the air as I enter the empty bedroom. The bed, the center of attention in the vast space, is emperor-sized, custom built to accommodate multiple partners. Bespoke sheets and linens drape the bed and weave around the four posts, expertly intertwined with soft lighting. In one corner, a spank bench waits decadently next to an elevated silver bucket holding three bottles of vintage champagne. I take it all in with dark satisfaction, sliding my hands into my pockets as I cross the room to lean in the bathroom doorway.
She’s the center of attention even in the extra large Jacuzzi bathtub. One foot is extended out of the water, clutched in the large hands of the man in front of her as she enjoys her foot massage. Behind her another man rubs her shoulders in smooth, firm circles. He must be the teller of the jokes, because her head is tilted back, her hungry eyes moving over his as she listens to his low, deep droning.
He delivers the punch line. She laughs. Then moans her approval at the foot rub before taking a sip of her champagne.
Foot rub guy’s gaze cuts to me, silently announcing my presence.
Delilah turns and gasps in delight when she sees me. “Oh, Quinn! I’m so happy you’re here. I thought you weren’t going to show.” She sets her glass on a nearby vanity and stretches out both hands to me.
I walk further into the bathroom but ignore her outstretched hands.
“Are you having fun?” I ask.
Her eyes flash at the snub, but her smile stays in place as she relaxes against the man beef behind her and strokes his jaw. “Derek and Kyle have done a great job of keeping me company. But seriously, Quinn, do we have to meet all the way in Brooklyn?” Her pout is artificial and irritating.
And her statement is rich considering she was born and bred in Queens.
“A small price to pay for all of this, don’t you think?” I drawl.
She rolls her eyes and proffers her other foot to Derek. Or is it Kyle? I never stopped long enough to work out which twin was which. “I hate it when you go all practical on me. You’re here now, baby. That’s all that matters.” Her gaze locks hard on me, before she conducts a ravenous survey of my body. “Are you going to join us?”
I stroll to the vanity and lean, crossed legged against it. “Sorry, sweetheart. I had a shower half an hour ago.”
“Hmm…shame.” Her gaze climbs up and rests on my hair. “Interesting color. You revising a boy band phase?”
I slide my hand through the dirty blond strands I haven’t had time to alter. “I never had a boy band phase. But yes…I’m experimenting.”
Her eyes lock on mine again and she licks her lips. “My favorite word…experimenting.”
My skin wants to crawl away from my body. But even it knows what’s at stake, so it stays put.
I straighten and start undoing my shirt. “When you’re done frolicking in the bath, I’ll be in the bedroom.” I walk back out, return to the bedroom. I hear her instructing Derek…or Kyle…to help her out.
I tug my shirt off and toss it into a chair. Shoes and socks come off next. My pants stay on, though. As does the vintage Patek Philippe watch on my wrist. It has a special significance in the Maxwell/Delilah game.
I ignore the low, excited laughter behind me and crawl onto the bed. Lounging in the midst of a dozen pillows against the massive headboard, I fold my arms and wait for her to come out.
It’s a production, of course.
She’s beautiful. She’s powerful. As wife of the incumbent governor, she commands the greatest city in the world. But Delilah Blackwood has danced in the palm of my hand since the day we met. That’s not to say I don’t give her fair due.
She walks out with the strut of a regal queen. The Chinese silk robe is untied, and drapes to the floor. She’s naked underneath it, of course. The jet black hair that was pinned up in the bath is now flowing over her slim shoulders. She walks three steps in front of the identical twins, who follow, buff slaves, towels draped around their waists. Her grey eyes grow dark, a feverishly carnal gleam stoking the depths as her gaze runs over my body. She licks her lower lip and I can tell she’s a breath away from panting like the bitch she is.
When she stops at the bottom of the bed, each twin helps her slide the robe off her shoulders. At thirty-five her body is still youthful enough to not require the attention of a surgeon’s knife. And yet her boobs hold an unnatural perk.
I move my gaze from her tits and watch her run her hands over her thighs.
“I’ve missed you so much, Quinn.”
“Then what the fuck are you doing all the way over there?” I drawl.
Her please smile lights up her whole face. She hitches a knee onto the bed and crawls sinuously toward me. When she reaches my legs, she runs both hands up my inner calves and thighs. I lounge back against the headboard and allow the caress. Her fingers tremble as they approach my cock. She’s highly turned on but also nervous. She doesn’t know which version of Quinn she’s going to get. Her gaze darts up at me as she struggles to overcome the nerves.
“God, you look so serious,” she half laughs.
“This is serious business, my sweet,” I reply.
The endearment eases her tension a touch, like it’s designed to. She grows bolder and cups me through my pants. I’m chubby enough to please her. Her smile widens. Her stare returns to my crotch and her mouth falls open as she gets caught up in increasing my girth. I look up and nod subtly at the twins.
They drop their towels and get on the bed. Delilah jerks a little in delight when twin hands caress her body. But she doesn’t pay them much attention. It’s me she wants. Me she’s dying to fuck.
I unfold my arms, giving her silent consent. Her hand leaves my cock and inches up my torso. Her touch on my bare skin makes my gut clench hard.
“My God, Quinn, you have no idea how much I’ve needed this, darling.”
She crawls closer and replaces her hands with her mouth. Her tongue licks greedily at my flesh, then her teeth join in the fun. She’s growing frenzied by the minute. Behind her, one twin trails a flogger down her back as the other works a hand between her thighs. Her eyes drift shut and she shivers in anticipation. I nod at the flogger bearer and he brings it down hard across her back, then repeats it every five seconds. Delilah’s guttural moans are pure bitch in heat. The pungent scent of her arousal coats the air, and her teeth sink into my pecs as her excitement escalates. She kisses her way up my body to my neck. When she opens her mouth over my pulse, I grab her by the throat. Her pulse beats a frenzied tattoo against my fingers.
“Hickies will get you no cock,” I warn. My voice is a blade of ice.
She shivers and strains against my hold. “Kiss me, please.”
“All in good time.”
She pouts and grabs my face in both hands. Her thumb drifts over my lower lip, the ravenous look in her eyes all-consuming as she jerks through the flogging. “God, you’re so sexy, Quinn. I…think I’m falling in love with you.”
I lift one eyebrow. “The sex is that good?”
Her expression dims. “You know it’s not just the sex. I care about you.”
I believe her. After all, who wouldn’t care about an heir to an unimaginable fortune with a huge experienced cock to boot? She cares enough to have aided and abetted Maxwell in his endeavors, while spreading her legs for younger men whenever his back was turned.
“I know you do, darling. Thank you,” I murmur.
Her face softens, right before she moans as another strike lashes across her back. I let go of her neck and her mouth strains for mine.
In a swift move, I catch her around the waist and flip her beneath me. She gasps in delight and curls her legs around my waist. I reach behind me and snap my fingers.
A leather choker is slapped into my palm. I slide it up her skin and she shivers.
“Is that for me, baby?” she asks sultrily.
“Everything in this room is for you. You’re a queen. You deserve it.” I loop the choker around her throat and tie it tight. Her breath truncates and her pupils dilate.
Easy. So fucking easy.
Another snap of my fingers and I receive the ropes. In under a minute she’s secured to the bed. I trail my hand from her throat to her tits. I toy with each globe before sliding lower. Her eyes stay on me, hungry, greedier with each passing second. I slip past the triangle of groomed hair at her crotch and touch her leathery clit.
“Oh, yes!”
I play with her for a minute, then remove my touch. “Not wet enough. Clearly you’re not as pleased to see me as I thought you were.” I remove myself and perch on the side of the bed.
Her head jerks up off the pillow. “No! Please, Quinn. I’m wet. I promise.”
I stretch out beside her and trail my fingers over her cheek. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m not offended. It’s been a while for both of us. Why don’t we let Derek and Kyle have a go at that sweet pussy? And I can just…bask in your beauty.”
I don’t need to signal the twins. They’re already buried between her legs. They take turns licking and flogging her pussy. When her eyes begin to roll, I hook my fingers beneath the choker and pull. Her whole body jerks. I take turns pulling and releasing. She climaxes in under a minute. I continue stroking her cheek as Kyle puts on a condom. Before she’s fully recovered, he penetrates her.
“No,” she moans weakly. “I want you, Quinn.”
“You’ll have me. First we need to reward the boys for their beautiful work on you, don’t you think?”
She nods grudgingly, then inhales sharply as the thrusts get harder, rougher. Derek climbs higher up the bed and plays with her nipples. When they’re erect, he clips tiny pegs to the peaks. Then he goes to work with the flogger. A scream rips through her throat with each strike.
“Am I losing you, sweetheart?”
She shakes her head vigorously, her gaze struggling to stay on mine.
“Good.” I lean in closer, brush my nose against her cheek. She turns her head and nuzzles me. “Where does Maxwell think you are tonight?” I ask.
“At…a Women Librarian focus group in Midtown.”
I laugh. “How very naughty of you, abandoning the women like that. And where is the governor tonight?” I press.
She shudders and moans before answering, “Fundraiser for veterans at the Lincoln Center.”
“And here you are, his precious gem, getting your rocks off behind his back,” I taunt.
Her gaze starts to harden, and I catch the glimpse of the Delilah who didn’t blink twice about committing a felony in order to take out a rival. A series of merciless thrusts from Kyle dissolves the look. “I make a better governor’s wife when I’m well satisfied.” She turns her head and meets Kyle’s gaze. “Harder!”
He complies. Her head rears back, and she screams as another orgasm flays her. The twins switch places. Derek is the rougher of the two. Before she has time to recover, he takes control of her.
When she catches her breath a little, her gaze seeks mine. She wants to protest my non-involvement, but she’s enjoying herself too much. When Kyle pulls roughly at the nipple pegs, she groans deep and surrenders to the hedonistic pleasure.
An hour later, she’s bathed in sweat. Her screams roll into each other.
When she climaxes for the forth time, I turn away, suppress a shudder.
Bask myself in darkness and purpose.
“Quinn, you…I need you,” she slurs, her multiple orgasms making her near delirious.
I stand, pull down my pants and boxers down enough to take out my semi-hard cock. I re-mount the bed and position myself between her thighs. Derek and Kyle are taking turns kissing and flogging her tits and midriff. She’s trying to see me, but they’re in her way. I play with her soaked pussy for a while then reach for the toy I need. She moans deliriously as I cram her full with the dildo. It does its job superbly, but it’s the ever-tightening choker Kyle is working that gives her the auto-erotic experience she craves. This time when she comes, she passes out.
I hop off the bed, and zip up my pants.
“Don’t untie her until I’m gone.”
“She’s gonna be pissed,” Kyle says.
“I’m sure you can handle her. If she’s extra work, let me know. I’ll see that you’re compensated.”
I take off the watch and lay it face down on the bedside table so the inscription underneath is visible.
From Delilah to Maxwell. Fidelity and Love. Everlasting.
The twins grin at each other as I redress and leave.
My stomach rolls hard against the iron clench I have on it as I rush out of the brownstone and head towards my car. The seething bile bubbling up inside me rises with each step. I get to the Mustang just as it surges up my throat.
Bending over, I vomit on the sidewalk.
31
AXIS OF ACTION
I find the nearest bodega, grab the first bottle of water I see and tear off the lid. I slap a twenty on the counter and rush back out. In the nearby alley, I rinse my mouth and spit it out. Rinse and repeat until the bottle is empty. I still taste bile and disgust.
Whiskey. I need whiskey.
Or Lucky.
My mind spins at the second thought. I slow it the fuck down and swipe my hand across my mouth.
No, not Lucky. Whiskey.
The more expensive the better. And I know just where to get it.
I slide back behind the wheel, slam the door shut and stomp my foot on the gas. I arrive at XYNYC half an hour later. The crowd is healthy, especially for a Thursday night. Axel runs the place on a tiered membership system. Platinum members get in on Fridays and Saturdays. Sundays are for gold members. The remaining days are free for all, but with a keen eye on who he lets in the door.
The paparazzi are camped outside as usual. I flick them the finger, guaranteeing them a front tabloid exclusive and make my way inside. I wade through fourth-generation trustfundistas to the bar, ignoring the sly camera phones pointed my way.
The bartender catches my eye and immediately heads my way. “Macallan. Triple. Neat.”
He brings me the drink and I swallow it in one go. I indicate the glass for another. When he fills it, I take a smaller mouthful, breathe through the burn, and will it to deaden my insides. Only a hint of the numbness returns. I finish the drink and am contemplating a new one, when Axel joins me at the bar.
“You know there’s a better blend reserved for you in your VIP room, right?” he says.
I slam the glass on the counter. “Too far,” I rasp.
Axel is the same height and build as me, so his speculative grey eyes meet mine full on. The shit we’ve both endured means there’s also no fear or hesitation in his eyes as he stars into my soulless ones. After a minute, he looks away. A few women dance close, try to catch his eye. He ignores them and after a minute looks back at me. “That bad, huh?”
I grit my teeth and breathe deep. “Worse.”
“Need any help?”
I shake my head. “It’s done. I have what I need.”
He nods again, but I sense his distraction. When his gaze tracks across the room, I follow it to the woman standing alone at the place reserved for Axel’s guests. She’s leaning against the railing, glass of champagne in one hand. At first sight, she seems to be just one of the many beautiful women enjoying XYNYC’s exclusive atmosphere. But at second glance, I sense her tension, even from across the room. I look past her to the two club bodyguards on either side of the lounge, blocking her exit. “If you need anything else, let me know,” Axel says, without taking his eyes off her.
I glance at him. “Looks like you have your hands full with your own situation that needs taking care off.”
“Yeah,” he growls. “Fucking tell me about it.”
> I look back at the woman. She looks familiar, but my brain is too wired to accommodate anything other than the need to dig myself deeper into my abyss, wipe the last two hours from my immediate memory.
“Thanks for the taking care of the other situation,” I say.
He shrugs. “My guy at the DOH says they’ve had a hard on for that chain of motels for a while. Greasing the right palm just…encouraged them to bump it to the top of their list. All it needed was a phone call and a few of my bodyguards to get the place evacuated.” He flicks a glance at me before the woman commands his attention once more. “Did the right person end up where they needed to be?”
I nod. “Yes.” The thought of Lucky suddenly makes my skin itch in a better way, but the underlying disgust remains from my encounter with Delilah. “You still keep the apartment upstairs, right?”
Axel drags his gaze from the woman. “Yeah, I do.”
“Can I hit your shower?” I ask, aware that my voice is bleeding pure black void.
His eyes narrow. “Sure. Take as much time as you need. Change of clothes in the closet too. I’ll get one of the girls to bring up a bottle.”
I jerk out a nod and head for the side of the bar. I slam my hand against the Authorized Personnel Only door and head for the small elevator tucked in the back. The apartment belongs to the club, so technically it’s half mine, but since Axel spends most of his time in XYNYC, he uses it more than I do.
My clothes come off long before I make it to the shower. I turn the temperature to scalding, scrub myself three times in quick succession. It barely makes a dent. Bile rises again and I throw up. With a hint of unfamiliar desperation, I wrench the knob to freezing cold. The ice settles me and I welcome the shivers that race over my skin.
I’m not sure how long I stand with my hands braced on the shower wall. The knock on the door forces me to switch off the water. Snapping a towel around my waist, I wrench the door open.
The female bartender, dressed in a tight sleeveless black dress stares back at me with wide blue eyes. Both her arms are covered in elaborate ink, and her blue-black hair is cut in drastically sharp angles. She’s pretty, in a pixie sort of way.
