“I could smell you coming, baby, hear your footsteps, your legs lengthening as you got closer to me, sense your beauty before I could even see you,” he says as he dips his head to mine and licks along the seam of my lips smoothly. My mouth parts to give him access but he pulls away and gazes down at me. “Still so perfect.”
“Well that’s a lot of lovely things to say,” I reply, even though I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to say to someone saying they can smell me. But the rest of it was truly lovely, and really I couldn’t ask for a more stunning man to be saying it to me.
“Mmm, I’m sure I’ll find more things to say later, which will probably not be quite so lovely,” he says as he trails his fingers along my thigh and reaches in between us. My eyebrow shoots up, not at the thought of what he’s doing but the fact is there are people everywhere. I try to move backwards, and he chuckles and tightens his hold. “Are you refusing me?”
“Well, yes. Much as the thought is appealing, we seem to have company,” I reply as a gaze around at the small space. It’s full of people - very expensive looking people - all sipping champagne and laughing with each other. Every woman is made up to the nines with designer clothes and each man is in a suit of some description. Brick walls line the room and a long bar is across the far side, also filled with people. There appears to be another gate at the right of the room, which has ornate gilding all around it. Smoke and low, slow bass rhythms swirl around the room, creating a strange sense of dirty luxury, which of course sends my mind reeling with undisclosed thoughts regarding where we are and what’s going on.
“Where are we?” I ask as I bring my eyes back to his. His deviant smile is firmly set in place.
“It’s a secret, a place for the privileged few who have the right to be here,” he replies as he grabs my hand and leads us across to the bar.
“Okay, and how did you earn the right to be here? What’s it called, and shit, is that the Chancellor of the Exchequer?” I ask as I halt, seeing exactly who I thought I’d seen with his hand leisurely groping the arse of another man. He’s married, to a woman. It’s all very odd.
“I’m not at liberty to say, and neither are you,” he says sternly as he nudges me forward again. “You do understand the concept of secrets, I assume?”
“Of course, but... wow. Am I not allowed to ask any questions at all?” He chuckles again as the waiter passes him a Cognac and me a glass of champagne. I’m pretty sure I would have preferred a brandy, or three, because as I scan around, I notice more and more people of a very high profile, all nodding at me and raising their glasses as if they’re happy to have me in their strange secret society. I smile back in the hope of appearing cool and collected, but Christ, I have never been in a room full of so many important people. I’m talking about the people who run our country, and the people who pump the money in behind them.
“You can ask all the questions you like, but I would suggest you make them the right ones,” he replies, looking up at a clock and turning off his phone. He’s turning off his phone?
“How do I know what are the right questions?” I ask as I realise everyone else is also turning off their phones and starting to whisper to each other. Something is definitely going on. He smiles lovingly at me and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Do I need to turn my phone off, too?”
“Good idea,” he says as a small woman sashays by us with a smile and heads towards the opposite wall. I can’t help but watch her as the room seems to part to allow her access to her destination, which is a large brass disk on the wall. She lifts her hand and the room falls silent as she picks up a stick and bangs it against the disk. A loud booming noise radiates around us and the room turns to face her.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Madam is happy to have your company this evening and hopes you will enjoy your time with us. Please follow all the rules of engagement and make your way through to the auditorium so we can begin,” she says as she gestures her hand out to the gilded gate beside her.
Rules of engagement? Where on earth am I? Are we going to fight or something? Because I’m pretty sure this dress wasn’t made for skirmishes of any sort - well, maybe the sexual sort. Oh shit, is that what she means? My eyes shoot to Alex’s. That bloody brow rises as his smirk ignites.
“I hope you’re not feeling shy, Elizabeth,” he says as he puts his hand on my back and pushes me toward the gate. I plant my feet. I am not engaging in anything with anyone but him, and I’m not doing that in front of anyone else either. He links his fingers into mine and kisses the back of my hand. “It’s alright. You really don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. We have the means to avoid it.”
Oh, okay then… I think. He pulls me forward with our joined hands toward those now ominous looking golden gates and rubs his finger back and forth across mine, probably trying to lull me into calmness of some sort. I’m not calm. I can’t even begin to imagine what I’m about to see through the other side of this gate.
As we reach it, Alex raises his hand and puts it on a white pedestal, which appears to scan his hand and then beeps quietly, showing the number one hundred and twenty seven on the wall in front of him. He indicates for me to do the same. I have no idea why because it definitely won’t recognise my fingerprints but I gingerly place my hand down. Apparently it does know who I am because it beeps then shows the number fifteen so Alex tugs me forward again. Fifteen is my number, it seems.
“And it knew my handprint how?” I ask with narrowed eyes at the devil in front of me.
“Andrews is quite resourceful,” is his reply. So now I have visions of the bastard dusting my prints around the house. MI5 shitbag.
“I’m not happy with that man. He disrespected me,” I say, quietly seething at the reminder. He squeezes my hand and ducks his head under a low beam as we wander along a long thin tunnel and I gaze at his very appealing back view and hold on tight.
“The last thing Michael would do is disrespect you. He was simply doing his job, Elizabeth, which was to protect you,” he replies.
“But you don’t know-”
He cuts me off. “Yes, I do, and we’ll talk about it later but for now, shut up, unless it’s to say something nice about my backside.” Okay, how he knew I was looking is beyond me.
“I’m quite happy to say something nice about yours, sweetcheeks,” comes chortling from behind me. I swing my head around to see a very attractive blond man staring directly at my arse. “Because that is a seriously nice piece of ass.” I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered, but Alex’s immediate stiffening hand causes me to wince a bit in reply.
“I would suggest you keep your opinions inside your head, Toby. Life can be short for those who don’t use their mouths wisely,” he says as he keeps walking forward. I snigger at the comment and follow on to God knows where.
Eventually we come out of the tunnel into a large, dome shaped room. Half of it is sectioned off into private seating areas or rooms of sorts, which are stepped up the side of the space like opera boxes, and at the front there appears to be a stage of some sort. The woman who banged the gong is already standing in the middle of it with a microphone headset on and what looks like a gavel in her hand while people begin to find their seating areas. Alex tugs on my hand and leads us to the third row up and along a corridor, towards the centre of the dome. What on earth I’m about to see is still utterly perplexing, but I suppose I did tell him I was ready for whatever he had. It seems I’m about to find about a bit more about Mr. White’s preferences.
He ushers me into a door and we find ourselves in a small, black, three-sided room with two large, red leather chairs facing the stage - very cosy. He takes my coat and gestures to a chair so I sit and cross my legs. The door opens behind us and a waiter delivers a bottle of Cognac and two glasses before whispering something in Alex’s ear and then leaving. It’s all very secretive and I’m inwardly becoming very excited about what’s going to happen in this new little world of his, so I take a large gulp of alcoho
l.
“What did the waiter say?” I ask as casually as I can manage.
“He told me bidding starts at twenty this evening,” he replies with a smirk.
“Bidding for what?”
“You’ll see.”
The room in front of us goes dark apart from a spotlight on the woman and then a panel comes up in between us with a handprint scanner and a keypad of numbers. Alex immediately puts his hand over it and keys in some numbers. I assume it’s some sort of security thing or something else required of this secret society.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thirty-four is starting proceedings this evening so when you’re ready, please begin,” the woman says as she moves to the side of the stage and presses a button. I have a number - fifteen. What the hell does that mean and what is number thirty-four starting?
The stage floor opens up and the biggest circular bed I’ve ever seen in my life rises up from beneath it. It is becoming apparent that this definitely to do with sex.
“Did you like the look of anyone in the room?” Alex asks as he gazes over at me with a chuckle and slightly darkening blue eyes.
“Oh my god, are you serious? What is going on here exactly?”
“We pay to get someone on that stage. If they want to, they’ll do it. If they don’t, they’ll try to outbid us for their freedom. They have two minutes to make their decision. It’s all about how much money we’ve got and who else is on the stage to play with,” he says with a wink. “I’m expecting to be quite a bit poorer by the end of this.”
“Umm…” Yes, I know it’s pathetic but really, what does one say to something like that? They’re playing with money to watch sex or force someone into it? There’s something not quite right about it at all. Has Alex been on that stage? And shit, what if someone bids for him? Or me?
“Elizabeth, we’re all big boys and girls. Everybody who is here is well aware of what’s going on,” he says as he grabs my hand and sips his drink. Right, yes, of course they are. Apart from me, that is. Well I wasn’t. I’m now acutely aware of the live sex show come auction that is about to begin.
A very tall and very beautiful naked, blonde haired woman walks into the middle of the stage and crawls onto the bed then proceeds to put her hands between her legs. I absolutely can’t stop the gasp of shock or the undeniable core clench that hits me like a tonne of sodding bricks. Alex chuckles again, takes my hand firmly and rests it on the scanner.
“Give me a number,” he says with a very mischievous little smile. “Any number will do. It’s just to get you used to it.”
“Forty-five,” I reply with a small giggle because I have no clue what I’m doing or what number forty-five looks like. He punches the number in and the scanner lights up beneath my fingers. Almost immediately, a small shock passes back through my fingers and I try to move my hand away but he keeps it there.
“He just told you to fuck off and countered with another twenty. If you want to see him, you’ll have to bid again and take your chance. The next shock will be a little stronger,” he says with a chuckle. Meanwhile, two men have now walked onto the stage completely naked and are beginning to get very involved with the woman.
“I assume they agreed to their bids then,” I say as I watch them in sheer fascination as they begin to move her around the bed and work their mouths all over her. She happily lets them move her around until one is at her mouth and the other is at her ankle.
“Clearly they were happy to engage,” he replies as another woman walks onto the stage. “And so is she. Now what are you going to do about your man? Will you let him beat you or do you want to watch him fuck someone tonight?”
Holy shit, this is so not what I thought it was going to be. Watch a live sex show, bid someone to join in, get a shock if they refuse, and get horny at the same time while sitting here next to God’s gift to the female species. I assume I’m bidding with Alex’s money here so maybe he should make the decision. I don’t even know what the man looks like. He might have three eyes for all I know.
Said sex show is now in full swing and I realise that I’m leaning forward in my seat to get a better view. Presently, one of the women is giving a blowjob and the other is spread on her back as the other man gyrates on top of her and sucks her breasts. It’s the most stimulating thing I’ve ever seen and my panties are already starting their combusting thing.
“Elizabeth, you’re running out of time,” Alex says as he taps the panel to show me a countdown timer that is currently at thirty-eight seconds.
“What does he look like?” I reply without removing my stare from the bed and tilting my head a little. I should possibly be embarrassed by my interest but let’s be honest, it’s Alex sitting beside me, and he bought me here so clearly he wants me fascinated by it.
“You’re being picky about how attractive he is?”
“Yep, isn’t that the point?” I’m suddenly very into this, a game of sex, with high stakes and a very appealing view. I thought I wasn’t a gambler but it seems I am because random statistics begin tumbling around my head like nobody’s business as I continue to watch the show and wonder what’s coming next.
“No, not always. Sometimes it’s just about control. However, he’s six foot ish, brown eyes and not in bad shape, I suppose.” He sounds okay. Dull, but not disgusting at least.
“Hit it then.” He punches in the number again and I tense to wait for the shock. Nothing happens, thank god, but suddenly a number fifteen appears on the panel.
“It appears you’re in demand, Miss Scott. Are you going on stage?” Shit, shitty shit.
“Absolutely not,” I reply instantly. “What do I do?” He chuckles at me and strokes my cheek.
“Hit slash fifteen. It’ll send a shock.” Good one, I can do that, so I do. Suddenly I’m shocked back. Apparently my man isn’t playing ball. It really sodding hurt that time as well. Fifteen flashes again. Arsehole apparently isn’t giving in either, so I hit slash fifteen again and look across at Alex for some sort of guidance. It is his money after all. He’s sitting there looking all captivating and gorgeous in a relaxed fashion with a shit-eating grin on his face as if he knew I’d enjoy this. He’s right. I do.
“How much am I worth to you?” I ask nervously, because I’ll hit those buttons all night to avoid that stage if it’s left up to me.
“You assume I don’t want you down there,” he says with that eyebrow. Is he suggesting that he does? I swallow the bubble of fear that suddenly grips me. Thankfully, after a few seconds of deadpan staring, he smirks. “Just play your game, baby,” he says as he lifts his drink and gazes across at me. I immediately punch in forty-five again and wait.
The lure of the sex show pulls me back and I lean forward again to see at least ten people now, all in varying positions, men on men, women on men, women and other women on men. It’s a whole lot of fucking and gang banging and I can’t even deny that there isn’t a small part of me that wants to be on that stage with them, losing myself in the hectic frenzy of love making and brazen acts going on in that bed. It’s very tempting if I’m honest. I look back at Alex to see him still watching me intently, his increasingly darkening blue eyes staring back at me. The next shock that hits me has me jumping out of my seat. Alex laughs and gestures for me to sit on his lap, so I do and put my hand back down, actually pretty pissed off at the pain that has just been delivered. Fifteen flashes again and then again, and then again. Oh shit, does that mean three people are bidding for me now?
I punch in slash fifteen three times and then hit forty-five again. I will have my man on that stage. I will beat him, and I absolutely won’t be going down there myself. My inner slut is telling me I’m a moron but I’m trying not to listen to her as Alex begins stroking my inner thigh.
“I want to fuck you very badly at the moment.” And oh yes, that’s exactly what my inner slut wants to hear, only I can’t concentrate because the number fifteen keeps sodding flashing. Thankfully, I haven’t received another shock at least. Does that mean
my man’s going out? I look down at the counter, which is on three seconds, two seconds, one second.
“Yes,” I scream out in triumph at beating the bastard as Alex chortles away behind me and pushes my legs apart further.
“Do you think you can keep going under pressure, Elizabeth?” he asks as he manoeuvres me about on top of him. I hear the zip of his fly and turn my head to face him. “I want you to watch while I fuck you, and I want you to keep playing at the same time.”
That probably isn’t possible if I’m honest, but hey, I’ll give it a go. At least I only have to keep hitting slash fifteen now. His fingers make their way up my thighs to my very eager core and begin to slide their way around me. My head instantly falls back on his shoulder as I let that feeling take hold of me and start the climax that is inevitable. He pushes it back up so I’m watching again.
“Concentrate, Elizabeth. I need you to learn how to deal with all this. Control yourself, watch them fucking each other, keep your mind on the game and command your own body,” he rasps out into my neck as he circles his fingers and then pushes them inside me. Oh god, I’ve never been so turned on in my life. There are at least twenty couples now, doing just about anything to each other on that stage and much as I try to clear my mind of his fingers, the feeling is overwhelming.
I notice a man walking onto the stage from the corner of my eye so I focus on him. I think he’s mine. He’s about six foot and reasonably cute in a sensible sort of way. He looks up at our box and winks, which has me giggling instantly. Fifteen flashes again so I punch in my refusal and let my mind come back to whatever Alex is doing because it seems my concentration has let me control the effect of his hands to some degree. He’s being quiet for him, not pushing me hard or fast, just leisurely playing with me and fondling. It’s nice, peaceful somehow, but the visions going on in front of me are starting to become increasingly erotic. People are coming all over each other, cocks inside every hole available. Moaning and screaming are beginning to make their way to the crowd watching, slapping sounds as people smack each other and then more moaning.
Feeling White Page 45
