The very first thing she noticed was a woman in a red teddy lovingly sandwiched between two men in a darkened alcove. Over the woman’s head, her wrists were restrained by some kind of cuff attached to a long chain that dangled from the ceiling. But she definitely wasn’t complaining. The woman’s head was thrown back in apparent ecstasy as the two men learned every inch of her body with their hands and tongues.
Cora’s throat went dry. She didn’t realize she was backing up till she made contact with solid muscle.
“Already?” Knox teased. “Is this going to be too much for the succubus? Or are you afraid you’re going to like what you see?”
Did he think she would want him to bind her like that? That she would let him make her so helpless? That her threadbare control would snap and she would give herself over to him so easily? That he could break her? “Ha! Bring it on, mister wrecking ball.”
He grinned at that, moving further into the room, allowing her to follow…or not? “That’s Master wrecking ball.”
She snorted, but followed. “You think I haven’t seen stuff like this before?” Though, at the time, she hadn’t been in full succubus mode. Still, she could handle it. No biggie. No. Biggie.
At her statement, he glanced back at her with blatant curiosity, but he didn’t ask any questions.
Taking a reinforcing breath, she surveyed the rest of the room. It was more of a lobby, really. Two small standing bars took up separate corners, with only a handful of people crowded around them. The lighting was muted, the walls painted black, or perhaps dark purple. She couldn’t be sure. The floor was a dark-stained wood, illuminated just slightly so that people didn’t trip over the many large pillows that littered the area. Though they were clearly there for the comfort of the guests, most of them went unused. It seemed the two adjoining rooms, one to the right and the other to the left, were where the action was.
“Can I get you a drink?” Knox asked, once more the gentleman.
“Why not?” she said, needing something to occupy her hands—she had a very strong urge to wring them in front of her. Instead, she kept her arms stiffly at her side, her fingers picking nervously at the fabric of her skirt.
She remained in the middle of the floor as he crossed to the closest bar. A couple of guys glanced her way, and she felt as if she were a gazelle that had just been abandoned in a pit of lions.
One of those men looked as though he were about to approach her, but then Knox returned with another Mai Tai, giving him a look that screamed of warning. Back off, his expression said.
If she were in a den of lions, he was the biggest, baddest one here.
That actually gave her a sense of relief.
She almost laughed. Relieved that Knox was one scary son of a bitch?
He cocked his head at her amusement. “Something funny?”
She shook her head and took the drink he offered, failing to hide the slight quiver in her hands. He had to notice, but said nothing. She appreciated that. Why was she so nervous? She hadn’t been a regular, but she wasn’t exactly a stranger to places like Fusion. The clubs back home had rooms like this. And even though she mostly avoided the seedier parts, she knew what she was about to find beyond the two thresholds. Perhaps it was because she’d never been so actively pursued by someone like Knox. By someone who didn’t even like her, yet still wanted her in a way that made her skin prickle with awareness of his every casual touch.
Again she wondered why he was pushing so hard. She could pick out three women right now, and one man by the looks of him, who would be more than willing to help him get off. Yet he studiously ignored everyone else.
He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”
She sighed and let him guide her up the shallow steps.
It turned out the two rooms were really one, wrapping around a false wall, connecting in a U shape around the other side. The debauchery was not as grand as she’d expected. People mingled, drinks in hand, some cozying up to their partner, or partners. Others sat in small groups doing nothing but chatting. However, a few couples were in the midst of play, as some people liked to call it. A woman seated on a bench against the wall had her arms handcuffed above her head by frilly pink cuffs; she was whimpering her way to orgasm as a dark-haired man ran his fingers over her sex, murmuring loving praises in her ear. The adoration on the man’s face was unmistakable, as if she were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was almost kind of sweet, but Cora didn’t think she could be as open as that while being intimate with a man. And having her arms shackled? She shivered. She’d been tied up too long in the doctor’s lab for that to be sexy.
She grinned. Winning this was going to be a breeze.
Knox gave her a curious frown and sipped his drink.
She preened and glanced around. The décor here was clean and simple. Couches and large ottomans took up the center space. Leather benches and other—she supposed she’d call them stations—lined the walls. She’d expected it to be dim, like the rooms before, but everything was awash in soft auburn lighting, smartly placed to illuminate each station as though they were art pieces. One appeared to be a large wooden X with a harness and shackles to keep an individual in place. On the wall beside it, various whips and floggers ominously hung. She grimaced, and cocked an are you kidding me look at Knox.
He shrugged noncommittally, almost bored. Did he not care that he was going to lose?
Between each station, erotic artwork caught her interest, beautiful photographs and paintings with the subjects posed seductively, mostly nude, but in a tastefully artful way. A couple of them were black and white close-ups of subjects bound by rope. The focus was on the intricate knot-work, almost like the Celtic tattoo around Knox’s bicep. There were a couple statues as well that were reminiscent of the Renaissance, though they were clearly modern pieces and were probably made of some kind of lightweight material varnished to look like marble.
She gravitated toward a particularly stunning statue staged in a corner: a couple in a loving embrace facing each other with the woman perched on the man’s lap. Ecstasy painted their features, their cries of pleasure frozen in time. Whoever the artist was, they did a phenomenal job.
Behind her, the woman on the bench reached her moment, drawing much of the room’s attention, including Cora’s. She was transfixed by the way the two seemed to be in their own little bubble, staring into each other’s eyes. The woman moaned long and hard as her lover drew out her orgasm with his relentless touching. The woman threw her head back as her body began to shake. As if he couldn’t resist, the man dipped his head to take the woman’s lips, swallowing her cries. When her release passed, he uncuffed her and she slumped forward, burying her head in the crook of his neck.
The onlookers applauded.
The woman blushed, smiling weakly while the man placed a tender kiss on crown.
Cora could appreciate the purity of the moment. Still—
She turned to Knox. “If you think you’re doing anything like that to me in a room full of people, you’re out of your mind.”
He smiled down at her. “I’m not an exhibitionist.”
“I’m confused. Then why did you bring me here?”
“This section of the club offers the best private rooms.”