“Hey,” Michael said with a grin as I walked in the front door.
“Why are you in such a good mood?” I asked as he pulled me into him for a hug.
He held me at arm’s length, a smile still planted on his face. “Guess what?”
I couldn’t begin to guess. He was never this happy after a workday. “Just tell me. I’m not a good guesser.”
“Fine. We’ve been invited to a party hosted by one of my company’s special clients!”
“And we have to go?” His excitement surprised me. Michael wasn’t the party type. Hell, neither was I.
“What? Yes! It’s an honor to receive an invite. These gatherings are usually kept a secret.”
“Clearly not very well.” I tightened my lips in a pinched smile.
“I don’t even know what sort of party it is, but I was told we have to wear something nice and we have to leave our phones in the car.”
“Leave our phones? That doesn’t seem the least bit suspicious to you?”
“Not really. Maybe they’ll have drugs or something. You wouldn’t want phones with cameras if you were throwing that sort of rager.”
“Rager? How old are you?” I laughed, making his smile widen.
“Fuck off. You know you want to let loose. When was the last time? Before we got married?”
“I don’t need to loosen up.” I pawed his hands away. “I had my crazy teenage years already. Actually, they crept into my twenties too.”
Michael stared at me with a half-cocked smile. “Well?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, we’ll go, but if you expect me to snort cocaine off your dick, it’s not going to happen.”
* * *
I ran a flat iron through my hair, straightening the unruly waves. Smokey eyeshadow covered my eyelids, making my dark eyes look sultry and seductive. I longed for the beautiful confidence I tried to portray. This mask I wore wasn’t me, but for a moment, I felt like the woman in my fantasies. Sexy and alluring. Wanted.
“Wow, you look amazing,” Michael said as he walked into the bathroom. He stopped adjusting his tie and stared at me.
“And you look like you’re going to the party to do people’s taxes.”
Michael looked down at himself. “Too much?”
“Yes, too much. Take the damn jacket off. And the tie.”
Michael stripped off the garments until he was down to a maroon dress shirt and slacks. He draped the jacket over his shoulder, and I melted as he brushed his hand through his short golden hair. “Better?” he asked as he made a half-spin.
“Yes, much better.”
“Do you need help with that?” He gestured toward the back of my dress, still unzipped along my spine. I nodded. His familiar touch along my skin made me throb.
We gathered our things and headed out the door. We drove for what felt like forever, crawling along winding roads with the sun creeping lower on the horizon. Orange hues exploded across the windshield, making us lower our visors at nearly the same time. Pastures of lush grass sprawled on either side of the car, eventually giving way to thick forests. In the middle of fucking nowhere, we pulled onto a long gravel road that took us through the heart of the woods and up to a house.
My jaw went slack as I looked up at the huge home in front of us. It was basically a mansion, with arches and pillars everywhere I looked. The driveway wrapped around a circular fountain spewing a geyser of lit water into the air.
“Jesus Christ, Michael, they have fountains! We do not fit in here.”
Michael looked around with a similar expression. “He’s a down-to-earth guy, relax. Besides, we could get a fountain if we really wanted one.”
I put my hand on his arm. “No thank you. It would be one more thing to mow around.”
A man in a suit waited beneath the overhang. Michael pulled up beside him and slowed the car to a stop.
“They have a fucking valet?” I let out a dramatic huff as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I’m beginning to hope there’s drugs here. I’m going to need them.”
We got out of the car, handed our keys to the valet, and headed toward the massive double doors. Michael let out a low whistle. “Rich people,” he said as he knocked.
“The party is toward the back of the house. Just go right in,” the valet said as he closed the car door.
Michael turned the handle and pushed the door. We looked around in awe as we stepped onto pristine marble floors. The click of my heels echoed through the hallway, and my eyes wandered along the walls, admiring the finely engraved wood that seemed to be everywhere—flourishes and designs had been etched into every surface. The dull sound of music drifted toward us from the far end of the hallway. No wonder the guy told us to walk in. No one would’ve heard us knock.
At the end of the hallway, a spiral staircase led to the lower floor. A nervous sweat collected on my palm as it touched the cool crystal railing. I gave Michael a sideways glance and he shrugged.
“Michael Edwards, is that you, my friend?” came an excited voice as we reached the end of the stairs.
“Sure is,” Michael called back.
“I worried you weren’t going to come.” A tall figure came into view, and he brushed his hand through his long, well-kempt hair.
“I wouldn’t miss it!” Michael said, feigning excitement. He gave a broad, believable smile as he held out his hand and they greeted each other.
The man turned and set his gorgeous brown eyes on me. “And this must be the lovely Zoey?”
“Sure is. I don’t think we’ve ever met,” I said as I held my hand toward him. His hand grasped mine, his skin warm and sweaty.
“I’m Mr. Roderick. That’s all you have to worry your pretty little head about.” He touched my cheek. “Come, come, follow me.”
After exchanging a nervous glance, Michael and I followed Mr. Roderick through his home. He looked too young to possess such an extravagant residence. Generational wealth, maybe? Involved in something illegal, perchance?
He stopped at a door and turned to face us. “Did you leave your phones as requested?”
Michael nodded, and Mr. Roderick led us through the doorway. The music rushed toward us, making my heart thump against my chest. Dim lights cast little more than shadows through the room, but I could see a naked woman lying on an overstuffed white couch, passed out. Her arm draped over her bare torso, just beneath her exposed breasts.
What the hell kind of party is this?
In the corner, a man hovered over another naked woman and sniffed lines of powder off her chest. He inhaled deeply, pulling away long enough to devour the skin of her breasts. She moaned as she sniffed powder from a necklace around her neck. Another pair of people were entwined at the waist, moving together as sweat coated their bodies and reflected the gentle gleam of the overhead lights.
I didn’t bother with a sideways glance this time. I stared at Michael with no pretense of subtlety. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into? I now understood the reasoning behind the no-phone rule.
A woman across the room leaned against a shiny black piano. Her champagne-colored dress opened across her slim waist, exposing her stomach, and the skirt hugged her hips. She caught me staring, and a flirty smile crossed her face.
“You guys okay?” asked a voice from far away. “Zoey, you okay?” The voice grew closer, and strong hands shook my shoulders. “Zoey!” his voice grew stern.
I escaped my trance as the music grew louder and Mr. Roderick’s touch became firmer. “I’m okay, it's fine. Just a bit shell-shocked,” I said as I turned to face him. Not a lie.
I had been to some fucked-up parties in my lifetime, and what I was seeing wasn’t all that shocking comparatively, but it wasn’t the same as a married woman. It was different with Michael there because I had to be a different person in his presence. I’d left this sort of wild lifestyle behind when I let him slide the gold band around my finger.
“Do I have to worry about you two being narcs?” Mr. Roderick laughed with an uncomfortable snap at the end.
Michael wrapped his arm around me. “No, don’t worry. We don’t get invited to parties like this very often.”
“Or ever,” I said under my breath.
Another man in a suit came by with a fake smile plastered on his face. He held the silver tray in his hand toward me, and I eyed the white baggies. A goddamn display of drugs toted around like they were fucking hors d’oeuvres.
“Pick your poison,” Mr. Roderick said with a smile, wrapping his arms around both of us.
I hesitated before grabbing one of the baggies. Michael glanced at me with a pinched face and a frown.
“You guys need to relax,” Mr. Roderick said with a smirk. He motioned toward the woman I’d been staring at, and I could somehow hear her footsteps over the music as she came toward me. She touched my arm with soft fingertips.
“Mira, show them to a quiet area where they can decompress,” Mr. Roderick said.
“With pleasure,” Mira said. She wrapped her arms around our waists and guided us into an adjacent room. Once she’d closed the door, the music faded into a low thump again. She gestured toward the couch, and we all sat down. Mira slipped her heels off and drew her legs up, showing a flash of black between her legs.
“It’s a bit much, I know,” she said with a smile.
“It’s just different,” I said.
Mira pulled a baggie of powder from between her full cleavage. “Different is good, no?” She opened the baggie and dumped its contents onto the glass table, splitting it into three even lines before reaching down the front of her dress and pulling out a straw. Her blonde hair slid along the glass as she leaned over and snorted a line. She sat up, wiped her nose, and held the straw toward us.
I reached out and grabbed the straw. “Fuck it,” I said as I pulled my hair over my shoulder and snorted the second line. I handed it to Michael and with a quick paw at his arm, he leaned over and sniffed up the third. My sinuses burned, and the drugs lit up my brain like fucking Christmas lights. I draped a leg over Michael’s lap and relaxed against the back of the couch.
Mira fanned herself. “This always makes me so overheated.”
I knew what she meant. My skin felt warm and pleasant, like I was wrapped in my favorite blanket with a really good book.
“There’s a bit more than just coke in there.” Mira giggled.
“Like what?” Michael asked as he sat taller. He leaned forward and cocked his head, and his leg started shaking.
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” she said as she reached behind her neck and untied the top of her dress. The fabric spilled down her body, exposing her full breasts. She lay back with a satisfied sigh.
Michael and I stared at her, admiring the soft curves of her body. If she’d aimed to distract us from the unknown contents of the drugs we’d just inhaled, she’d succeeded.
“I want to kiss you,” Mira said with a pout of her lips.
Me?
Before I could answer, she crawled toward me with intoxicated movements. She snuggled against me before wrapping her hand around my neck and drawing me in for a kiss. Mira’s lips were soft and had a hint of alcohol on them. I pulled away to look at Michael, whose eyes were locked on us.
“Can I fuck her?” Mira asked with a slur of her words, her blue eyes meeting Michael’s.
His mouth dropped open. He shook his head but his motions turned into a nod, as if he was fighting with himself about what he wanted.
“You can watch,” she said with a bite of her lip.
Michael scooted back a little to let me lie back, and Mira pulled my attention back to her with hungry lips. I moaned as she kissed my neck. Her hands lifted my dress as she lowered herself between my legs, and I reached back and rubbed the front of Michael’s pants, feeling his twitching erection through his slacks. I gasped as she pulled my panties aside and placed her warm mouth against me. She licked me as if the drugs fueled her tongue. I opened my eyes at the sound of Michael’s zipper falling. He pulled out his cock and I stroked him, moving my hand with the motion of her mouth. The more she pleased me and made my back arch in ecstasy, the faster I stroked him. He thrust his hips forward against my touch. Michael’s cock throbbed in my hand as a hot and hungry tongue devoured me.
Mira slipped her fingers inside me, fingering me as she licked me. The drugs coursed through my veins, awakening my senses and taking over my nerves like a wildfire. I’d never felt such sensations.
Mira sat up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before licking me off her fingers. “I have an idea. I’m going to go get Mister! Let’s turn this threesome into a foursome.”
She didn’t ask. She told us. She stood and left the room without covering herself. I looked at Michael once she was gone.
“Should we?” I asked with heavy breaths.
“I-I don’t know. Maybe?” he said with a nervous brush of his hand through his hair.
“Let’s see what happens,” I whispered to Michael. “We can stop at any time.” It was beginning to feel like a scene from one of my novels. I pinched myself to make sure I hadn’t fallen asleep while reading, but it was very real.
When Mira returned with Mr. Roderick, he wore a broad smile across his face. “Mira said you guys want to swap?” he asked with a curious lift of his eyebrows.
“Well, I mean . . . we . . . thought about it,” I said.
“I can tell you this, Michael. If you fuck Mira, you won’t regret it,” Mr. Roderick said. He turned his sultry gaze toward me. “And it looks like I wouldn’t regret it with her, either.”
My heart raced within my chest. He was handsome and his confidence was sexy, but I couldn’t imagine this really happening. Michael sleeping with someone else? Me sleeping with someone else?
“Shall we, Zoey?” Mira bit her lip.
Mr. Roderick sat on the opposite side of the couch, and Mira grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet. I looked at her with wide eyes. I reached down to slip off my heels, and she smiled sweetly at me. Her hand slid toward my back and lowered the zipper on my dress. The fabric fell past my shoulders, exposing my black bra, and Mira kissed me as she unclasped my bra. I slid it off, along with my dress, and Mira removed her skirt.
I bit my lip as I stared at her body. Only black panties covered her. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of my panties and eased them down, and I kicked them away before doing the same to her.
Mira pushed me onto the couch and straddled my waist, pressing her warmth against my lap. She kissed me, moaning against my mouth as Mr. Roderick reached over and grabbed her ass. Her lips trailed down my neck and over my breasts until her tongue wrapped around my nipples. With an eager hand, she squeezed the flesh of my chest. I reached between her legs and found her wet excitement. I rubbed her, making her moan.
“Can I fuck him?” she asked in a whisper against my mouth as she kissed me again. Her eyes flashed at Michael.
Her question caught me off guard and the thought twisted my stomach into knots, but the way she bit her lip and stared at me—coupled with whatever drugs we’d done—made me nod my head. She slid off my lap and straddled Michael's. He looked at me for permission before he even put his hands on her sides. Despite the sweat forming on my temples, I agreed with a curt nod.
As Mira kissed him, I ached with jealousy, but it wasn’t the sort of jealousy that made me feel sick. It turned me on. She grinded herself against his cock as she worked off his pants.
The moment Mira's lips met Michael's, Mr. Roderick leaned into me for a kiss. He smelled like cologne and liquor, a potent smell that was neither pleasant nor unbearable. His lips spread on mine, and I whimpered as he bit my lower lip. My stomach tightened and a wave of guilt-fueled nausea rushed through me. I had no idea why. Mira had her mouth on Michael's and he seemed fine.
Mr. Roderick pulled away and looked at me. There was a hint of leftover powder around his nostrils. When I didn’t stop him, he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and drew me toward him for another kiss as his hand wandered to my bare thigh. I made a noise that I didn't intend to make. A slightly audible breath of protest.
The moment Michael heard it, he leaned away from Mira and looked at me. I swallowed hard. His eyes remained on me as Mr. Roderick widened his kiss against my mouth. Michael's cheeks flushed red, but the twist in his lips made me sure it wasn't only from arousal. Just by looking at me and witnessing the subtlest change in my body language, he knew I needed him, not Mr. Roderick.
“Mira . . . I’m so sorry . . .” He pulled away from her, trying to escape her relentless kisses. “I can't do this.”
Mira smiled at him, wiping the lipstick from around her lips. “It's okay.” She climbed off his lap and grabbed her dress from the floor. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red that stood out against her pale skin.
Though Mira had listened to Michael, Mr. Roderick didn’t stop his hand’s ascent up my thighs or pull his mouth from my skin as he dropped to one of my breasts.
“I said I can’t do this, Mr. Roderick, which means she can’t do this,” Michael said, raising his voice with a sternness I’d never really heard.
“Mister . . .” Mira whined.
Mr. Roderick pulled away from me with a frustrated groan, straightened himself, and adjusted the crotch of his pants. “Well, Michael, don't feel rushed to leave. I'm sorry if we offended either of you. I'll see you at our next meeting, okay?”
They left the room, closing the door behind them.
Michael released a slow exhale, probably worried he'd lost his client over what had happened . . . or what hadn’t happened. I leaned over to grab my dress, but he snatched it away from me.
“Not yet.” Michael dropped my dress to the floor as he stood in front of me, wiping lipstick from around my mouth. His thumb trailed along my lower lip, sending a shiver through me. It was my favorite thing men did in the books I read. That possessive touch that made me certain he was thinking about my mouth on him.
“I can’t watch you with another man,” Michael said through a clenched jaw. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. He wrapped his arms around me and inhaled a deep breath as if he'd been preparing for this moment. “I knew what kind of party this was. I wanted to give you a special night. I tried, but I can’t do it.” His hand eased between my legs, rubbing my slick clit. “You’re mine, Zoey. And I know the things you want. I’ve read parts of the books you read. You think I wouldn’t wonder what makes my wife disappear for hours on end? I know you want spontaneity and roughness.” Michael fisted my hair and craned my neck. “You want me to fuck you like I’m not me,” he said against my mouth as he leaned in and kissed me. “You want me to push you down.” He turned me around and forced me onto my knees on the couch. I held onto the back of it for support. “You want me to spread your legs.” He pushed my thighs apart with a rough jerk of his knee. “And you need me to fuck you like I want nothing more than to use you. To hurt you. Like I don’t love you.”
I gasped as he leaned into me and surged inside me. I was wet as hell, flooding further from the growl within his words, a feral dialect I had never heard in his voice before.
Michael grinded his hips into me, pushing his cock as deep as he could go. He fucked me hungrily, like he wanted nothing more than to unload inside me. He didn’t care about rubbing me or making me come. His only focus was holding back my screams as he pounded into me harder than I’d ever felt. He growled against my neck as he slowed his thrusts, pushing deeper into me until I felt like he would burst through me.
“I’m not coming in your pussy, sweet girl.” His voice made me melt. “I want to come on your face and in your mouth,” he said with a groan.
I froze, shocked by the desire woven through his words. Michael grabbed my arm and dragged me off the couch. He fisted my hair before grabbing my shoulder and forcing me to my knees on the rough floor. He shoved his cock in my mouth, still wet from being inside me. I tasted myself and what his words had done to me. What his touch had done to me. I gagged as he held the back of my head in a firm grasp and pulsed his hips against my face with no inhibition. Carelessly. Selfishly.
“Good girl,” he whispered as he dropped his head back. “Such a good fucking girl.” He gripped himself and pulled away. “Open your mouth,” he commanded. With the way he spoke, I would do just about anything he asked me to do. Anything.
I spread my lips and stuck out my tongue, looking up at him with big, dark eyes. I watched him rub his cock in long, sensual strokes. His lips parted as he focused on the head of his dick. I stared at his perfect hands as they worked him up to spill his load into my mouth. It was incredible to watch. It was mouthwatering. It made me anticipate every drop.
“Sweet girl,” he groaned. I knew he was close. I knew his breathy exhale more than I knew my own signals. He snatched my head back and growled as he came on my tongue and smeared the head of himself against my lips. “Don’t swallow yet,” he said as I kept my tongue out, enjoying the salty taste of him dripping from the tip. He looked so unlike himself, uninhibited in ways I'd never seen from him. I loved it.
He leaned down and reached into his pocket, tugging out his cellphone. I looked at him with a surprised cock of my eyebrow. Michael was such a rule follower, so I couldn’t believe he’d broken the one decree within these walls. With a grin, he turned on the camera and took a picture of me—naked, on my knees, and with his come dripping onto my chest.
Is this really happening right now? Could Michael be fulfilling the most deeply rooted fantasy I've had?
“Swallow, but don’t wipe your lips off,” he growled. “I want you to keep me on them. I want you to taste me the rest of the night. On the ride home. When we get home. I want you to remember you’re mine.”
* * *
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