by L. A. Boruff
“Your wish is my command, Ice Queen,” he says, before drawing his gloved thumb over my bottom lip. The smell of leather and the look of desire in his eyes has me forgetting my ridiculous fears for just a moment.
“It’s just an old house in the country, Louisa… nothing to be afraid of, okay?” he whispers against my mouth before pressing a searing hot kiss on my lips.
I smile at him. “Maybe not, but that housekeeper, Ms Hadley, sure does give me the creeps!”
Behind me I hear Max and Bryce laugh.
“You can say that again, Icy,” Max says, spinning me around to face him. “If ever an old woman has a knife hidden up her sleeve, it’s her.”
I swat my hand against his arm. “Not funny, Jester.”
“Well then, clearly I’m not doing my job properly tonight,” he says, pulling a funny face. I smile at how adorable he looks in a pair of red and green skin tight leggings that leaves nothing to the imagination. My eyes graze over the bulge in his pants and I grin. Max lets out a soft laugh.
“Glad something brings a smile to your lips, at least.”
“Yes, Louisa’s laughing at how small you are,” Bryce says. He holds up his little finger and wiggles it. Max raises his hand and flips him off. They both chuckle.
“Ignore him, he’s just jealous,” I joke, bringing an even bigger grin on Max’s face and a snort of derision from Bryce.
“Well, of course he is. I’m sexy, funny and a good dancer. There’s really no competition!”
“You can say that again!” I grin, my gaze rising slowly up his body. My smile builds as I take in his bare chest and face, painted in the same red and green to match his leggings. Out of the three, he was the most comfortable getting dressed up for the occasion. In fact, he was the first to jump at the chance of a weekend away in an old manor house in the country, especially when a Halloween ball was thrown in.
“These hips don’t lie,” he says, rolling his hips, a twinkle appearing in his brown eyes. I giggle.
“Now that’s the sound I live for!” he responds, beaming.
God, I love his smile so damn much. It warms my heart. I reach up and cup his face in my hand, careful not to smudge the face paint.
“That smile is what I live for,” I reply, kissing him.
“Do you think we’d get away with not going?” Max asks, desire lighting his eyes.
“Hey, you were the one who wanted to go. Besides, you look too good not to attend the party. You make the perfect jester.”
“Why, thank you, my Queen,” Max bows low, rolling his hand as he does so. When he stands straight again, he does the Floss dance that’s all the rage with kids these days, and I burst out laughing all over again.
Bryce rolls his eyes and gives Max a playful shove. “Anyone would think he liked being the butt of all jokes,” he says, giving Max a wink.
“Better than being a butthead,” Max quips, slapping Bryce on the back of the head, before dodging Bryce’s returning punch. I watch as Max strolls over to the window with Hudson, no doubt discussing how they’re going to speak serious business with our illusive host dressed as an assassin and a jester.
“You look bloody incredible, darling,” Bryce says, drawing my attention back to him. “Our very own Ice Queen, in the flesh.”
He runs a finger up my arm, tracing the swirls of shimmering silver and blue. It’s taken me most of the afternoon to paint my body just so and though I’m no artist, I’m pleased with the effect. The swirls twine up my bare arms and across my shoulders meeting the chiffon material of my silver and blue dress that sweeps to the floor dramatically. I think I look as close to a Snow Queen as a girl who grew up in a council estate in North London can. Or rather Ice Queen as my men like to call me. Even though I’m far from that girl I once was, my nickname has stuck. These men well and truly melted the ice within my heart and in turn I’ve cultivated the love in theirs.
“Who knew you had all these secret talents, Louisa. We should dress up more often.” Bryce smiles widely, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Are you telling me you like cosplay?”
“I’m telling you that I like being someone a little different for a while,” he says, winking.
“Ah, so role play is more your bag?” I tease.
“Any play with you is my bag, Louisa. You should know that by now.”
“Very true,” I respond, resting my palm against his muscular chest.
Fancy dress usually isn’t my thing, or the guys’ for that matter, but this new contract is important to our business, so if dressing up for a Halloween ball is what’s needed to impress the inimitable Ivan Sachov, then we’re all in. I’ve not met him before now, but he’s certainly made an impression on the guys. They’ve not stopped talking about what an interesting man he is. Interesting and creepy, if his home is anything to go by.
“Forget about the dressing up for a minute. I mean, are you seriously not a little weirded out by this place? All the creaking doors, and dark hallways… I keep expecting to see a couple of twin girls like in that movie The Shining. I’m freaking out here.”
Bryce grins widely, the sparkling whirls of emerald bringing out the green in his hazel eyes.
“My Queen, surely you’re not afraid with me by your side?” he asks, clearly enjoying his new role as knight and protector.
I run my eyes over his naked torso and the whorls of green that cover his pecs and stomach. Slung low on his hips is a gold belt and strapped to it a long blade. Bryce insisted that he purchased a real one and not ‘some plastic shit’. For someone who blanched at the idea of dressing up, he certainly has come around to the idea. A smile pulls up my lips as I recall just how intoxicating it was to paint his and Max’s skin. Hudson was a little less enthusiastic about the whole dressing up, but eventually he succumbed when he saw just how much I enjoyed painting them both.
“Just so long as you do stay by my side, loyal knight.”
Bryce leans towards me, bringing up my hand and presses a kiss against it.
“I swear to protect you, oh, powerful one,” he laughs.
“Get out of the way, you great oaf,” Max says, shoving Bryce aside. “Icy needs her Jester with her at all times, keep her mind off all those creaking doors and weird as fuck portraits hanging up on all the walls.”
“Oy, enough of that, Jester, you’re the entertainment, not the brawn,” Bryce jokes, flashing him a wicked smile.
“And I’m the assassin, so you’d both better behave, or I’ll just have to bump you off,” Hudson says, arching an eyebrow and patting the fake gun tucked into the back of his trousers.
Our laughter is cut short as the doors to the hall are opened and we are greeted by a tall, handsome man dressed in a floor length cape, leather trousers, and sheer black shirt. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what he’s come as, or who he is. In the dimly lit hall I can’t make out the colour of Ivan’s eyes. At the moment they look as dark as the hallways of this house he lives in. I’m not sure if the jet black of his hair is natural or temporarily dyed to look the part. Either way, he’s attractive in a dangerous, predatory, kind of way.
“Ah, there you are, we’ve been waiting for you. Please, come in, the entertainment is about to start,” he says, taking a deep bow.
“Thank you, Ivan. But first I’d like to introduce you to Louisa, our partner,” Hudson says, wrapping his arm around my waist. He grips me a little tighter to his side. Oddly, he tenses. When I look back at Ivan, I can see why, he appears to be undressing me with his eyes. Ivan steps forward and takes my hand, lifting it to his lips.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Louisa,” he says, before pressing a delicate kiss against my knuckles.
I stiffen at the sound that erupts from Bryce’s throat beside me. Ivan’s eyes flick to Bryce then Hudson and Max, all of whom flank me.
“Louisa is our partner,” Bryce grinds out, he places an arm around my waist, resting it on my hip so that I’m encased either side. The tenseness between the men ra
tchets up a notch. This isn’t the best way to start a business deal.
Ivan regards us all, then nods his head sharply.
“Apologies, I meant no disrespect,” he smiles broadly, letting go of my hand. “I can appreciate a beautiful woman like any man, but I respect the fact she has been claimed by you all,” he says, emphasising ‘all’. “Please, do come in, I think you’ll find tonight’s ball thrilling!” He turns on his heel and strides back into the room, moving confidently between the people who’ve already arrived. I watch as he shakes hands and makes small talk with the rest of the party goers.
“Claimed?” I say, once he’s out of earshot. I flick my gaze to Max who has scooted around us and is taking my hand, pulling me free from Hudson and Bryce’s grasp.
“Jesus you two, lighten up. He made an honest mistake. Now he knows Louisa is ours he’ll back off. We’re here to seal the deal remember,” Max says, rolling his eyes.
Bryce and Hudson both grumble under their breaths, letting me go with Max.
“I’ve heard stories about Ivan. I’m pretty sure he has specific sexual tastes. Rumour has it, he’s quite the lover,” Max says, as we move further into the room.
“I’m not particularly interested in his sexual proclivities. I have three gorgeous men who I love having sex with. Ivan isn’t a patch on you all.”
“That’s good to know,” Hudson says, as he rests the palm of his hand on the small of my back and steers me to a circular booth encased in long velvet curtains. There are several of them placed around a central dancefloor. They all provide a great view of the orchestra that plays in the space, whilst remaining totally private.
Intimate, is the word I’m looking for as my hand traces the velvet material of the couch.
“I thought this was a party?” I say, sliding into the booth.
“It is a party, just not the kind you’re used to,” Max says, with a naughty wink.
He slides in beside me whilst Bryce and Hudson scoot around the other side. On the low table in front of us is a glass bowl filled with red material. It matches the dark velvet booth and surrounding curtains. Hudson dips his hand into the bowl and draws up a long piece of silk that looks very much like a blindfold. Beneath it, glinting in the flickering light of the candles is a pair of handcuffs and an object that looks suspiciously like a vibrator, a very shiny silver vibrator that’s small enough to fit in the palm of my hand.
“Just what kind of party is this?” I ask, my eyes flicking from the glass bowl to Hudson who is staring at me closely. The intensity of his gaze immediately flushes my skin. I’ve seen that look a thousand time before, that look tells me he wants to fuck. I swallow as my core twitches, my physical reaction to my men is always the same, and although I love the way they all make me feel, this was not what I was expecting tonight.
“What’s going on here?” I ask again.
“That’s exactly what I’d like to know,” he says, casting his gaze at Max who’s doing his best not to notice Hudson’s piercing stare.
“Hey, we don’t have to partake… Not unless you want to, of course,” Max says, lowering his voice as he turns to face me.
“Partake? Is this some kind of sex party?”
“Only if you want it to be,” Ivan says, making me jump. He stands before us all, gazing at me with a careful expression. Bryce stiffens next to me, grasping my hand in his.
“Those are gifts, do with them what you will. For now, please, enjoy the show…” he bows deeply again, then walks away to the other side of the dancefloor.
“Gifts?” I say.
“I told you he’s an interesting man,” Max says.
“Hmm,” is my only response.
I watch as he steps into the shadows, the lights dimming further as the orchestra begins to play. The string quartet starts to draw out long notes that slide over my skin, making the hair on my arm stand on end. Max and Bryce shift closer to my side, their warm hands finding a spot on each thigh to settle. I can feel the heat of their touch through the thin chiffon material of my dress. Although it’s dark and Hudson is mostly in shadow, I feel his gaze on me. In his hands he plays with the length of silk and despite myself, a thread of excitement rushes over my skin.
The air is heavy with anticipation. I’m not sure if it’s because of the thick, heavy curtains surrounding us that make the space feel so intimate, or the fact I can’t hear anything other than the stirring music of the orchestra and the thumping of my own heart. Either way, the atmosphere is having a profound effect on me. I squirm in my seat a little, as Bryce and Max slide closer.
On the dancefloor, just in front of the orchestra, a spotlight turns on. Curled up on the floor is a woman dressed in a floaty red dress that pools around her like blood spilt from a deep wound. She appears to be shivering, her dress rippling outwards from the movement.
“Is she okay…” I begin, sitting forward in my seat.
Max squeezes my thigh, pinning me to the seat. “It’s okay, Louisa. Watch.”
The woman begins to unfurl, that’s the only way I can describe it. She unfurls like a rosebud in the moonlit night. Her arms stretch gracefully above her as she moves to stand. On her feet are ruby-red ballet slippers. She has long graceful limbs, and dark hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. I would imagine she’s beautiful, but I can’t see her face given it’s covered by a red lace mask. I watch enraptured as she moves across the floor, her body moving in time with the music. She spins and twirls, the red of her dress billowing out around her as she glides across the dancefloor, her long, shapely legs seemingly going on forever. I’m not sure if it’s the music, the sensual atmosphere building, or just the sheer beauty of this woman dancing, but something inside me begins to unravel as I watch her.
My inhibitions perhaps?
As she dances, a long red ribbon of chiffon unfurls from around her waist leaving a trail across the dance floor. There’s something so mesmerising about her, about how she dances, as though this is her last time. Every movement she makes is filled with its own kind of melancholy.
The whole room has gone utterly silent. We are enraptured.
Suddenly another beam of light illuminates a spot on the opposite side of the dancefloor.
“Holy shit,” Bryce mutters, as Ivan steps into the circle of light.
My eyes widen with shock to see him bare chested and wearing a black mask. There’s no doubting it’s him, he holds himself a certain way that really can’t be mistaken. The woman stops dancing, her breath hitching as she stares at Ivan. She remains on pointe, taking small steps as he gathers the fallen material into his hands. He pulls on it as more red chiffon unravels from the woman. She spins around, until eventually she stands before him wearing just a basque and panties. Ivan drops the material and pirouettes gracefully towards her. There is a predatoriness about the way he dances, a sensuality too, and something deep inside me is frightened for this woman, for the danger he presents to her heart.
My eyes flick between the two. This isn’t just a show put on for us all, there’s more to this dance, I can feel it. I suspect the rest of the partygoers do too.
My men certainly can.
They’re turned on. I can feel that in the heat that rises from their bare skin and the way their bodies have turned towards mine. Max leans in, running a tongue over the shell of my ear.
“Can you feel that?” he breathes, and I know he isn’t just talking about the building atmosphere in the room. Something undeniably intoxicating is happening. Dangerous even.
We’re all being seduced.
Somehow Ivan Sachov has found a way to dig right into the depths of our fantasies and play them out before us; the haunting music, the sultry lighting, the sensual dancing and the sex toys still glinting in the glass bowl on the table before us all resonate with our deepest fantasies. It doesn’t matter that the room is full of people, we are all pooled in the darkness of these booths whilst Ivan and this mystery woman dance in the light.
Opposite m
e Hudson still clasps the length of red silk in his hands. In the dim light I can see him staring at me, his eyes are hooded, full of desire. I recognise that look, it affects me the same way it always has, and a liquid heat warms between my legs.
“Ivan may be into weird shit, but this, this I can fucking get into,” Max adds, nibbling on the lobe of my ear as his fingertips stray along my collarbone.
“Fuck me, this is intense,” Bryce growls, his large hands smoothing down my thigh. My skin prickles with heat as Bryce’s fingers pull up the skirt of my dress, bunching the material around my waist. His hand slides up the inside of my thigh, the heat of his touch scorching flames across my skin. Hudson remains where he is, watching us whilst I watch Ivan trace his hands over the woman’s bare shoulders, just like Max is tracing mine now. They begin to move together across the dancefloor, two halves of the same whole. Their bodies fitting together perfectly.
Bryce’s fingers reach the elastic of my panties, and my eyes shut momentarily as he slides his fingers beneath the thin material, parting my swollen flesh. I let out a low moan as he seeks out the warmth waiting for his touch.
“Do you want me to stop?” Bryce asks, his voice low with desire.
I think about the closeness of all the people, the fact that at any moment someone could walk past our booth and see what’s going on. Then I look out to Ivan and the mystery woman dancing and I know without a doubt everyone in the room is transfixed by them. We won’t be disturbed, not whilst those two continue to dance so beautifully.
“No, I don’t want you to stop,” I breathe, aware that my voice doesn’t sound like my own. It sounds needy, laced in thick desire.
Beside me Max shifts so that he is facing us rather than the intoxicating ballet display. He cups my breast, teasing my erect nipple with his finger and thumb, then leans in and kisses me softly. I respond, opening up to him, my tongue seeking out his as I lift my hand up to his head and pull him closer.
“That’s it, darling,” Bryce murmurs. “Let me work that sweet pussy of yours whilst Max takes care of your mouth. I want you dripping wet and ready for us.”
