Across the way several submissives with understated black leather collars with a single small silver hook kneeled in a half-circle, signaling any DOM they were available for their pleasure. Among them, he noticed a well-known member of society. Wealthy and better known as a silver screen princess of Hollywood.
Beside the unclaimed subs stood a well-muscled man eyeing the delicacies.
To those here, it was a way of life for them, a way of gaining control over one aspect of their lives. That didn’t work for him. He liked control, but he loved giving pleasure to a woman’s body more. Doing as she needed and making sure she never lacked when it came to sex. For him, it was about trust that went both ways. But for tonight he loved pushing her buttons and pulling a deeper flush from her with every question.
In front of him, Rhia looked on and with every moan or lash of a whip against flesh, her fingers tightened around the stone railing. Below, a collective sigh carried over the crowd as Samuel leaned over the female he fucked, and worked her hard, sending the woman into a screaming orgasm.
His own senses sharpened. Beside him, Luciana and Matteo watched their little birdie.
Rhia shifted her weight, the movement stirring her scent. He watched as she touched her neck where Lucian’s gaze kept drifting.
“Does the sight of a woman getting fucked turn you on?” He asked deeply and they all waited for her breathy answer.
She leaned back and he wrapped an arm around her waist, settling a hand over her trembling middle. She gasped and he knew she felt the long length of his cock pressing into her ass.
Her dress did little to protect her from the heat and he rocked his hips.
He noticed the hitch in her breath and the uptick in her heartbeat.
“Not anymore. It used to. I often wondered what it would feel like. If the woman ever felt any shame? Or just pleasure? Then I discovered such public displays are more a euphoria that leaves them addicted to the adrenaline rush.”
She turned her gaze to him, and a low-pitched growl erupted from him.
Claim her.
Fuck her.
Make her queen.
His inner monster clawed, stretched, stalked.
Control slipped. Sevastyan strained, his fingers digging into the fine material of her dress.
“As to your earlier question of what I see… I see pleasure,” she continued in a low voice and he used the sound as an anchor.
“That may not be what you’re looking for, though.” She bit at the inside of her lip and paused, never looking away from the people below.
“Not as a feeling but a physical thing moving through a crowd of people who I see are desperate to feel. To take it and to give it. It’s like an invisible force that affects everyone it touches. You might even call it an addiction.”
“Do you see pleasure as a tool? Something to profit off of?” Lucian lightly repeated Sevastyan’s earlier question now that they had her talking.
“I think that is a question more posed for you? No?” She grabbed Sevastyan’s drink off the railing and brought the glass to her lips, holding each of their gazes. In one swift movement, she swallowed the remainder of vodka without a grimace.
“I’ll take that back and let me be very blunt.”
They’d struck a nerve and peeled back a layer of her protective shield she kept around her at all times. Finally, he felt like he was getting somewhere.
“Please do.”
Her gaze followed him as he strode to the small inlaid bar and poured them both another drink for each of them.
“I despise anyone who could profit off others in such a despicable manner. This is your club, everything that happens within these walls is consensual and you offer the members a haven. For the most part. I’ve seen people harmed here.”
“And dealt with properly.”
She huffed. “I wouldn’t know. I’m sure there are a lot of closed-door dealings.”
When he didn’t confirm nor deny her allegations she continued. “We all know there’s a sinister aspect to sex between those who sell pleasure and give it. It’s something that does not have to be consensual.”