Chapter 19
Damon
She's walking in front of me, swinging her hips invitingly, because she knows that my eyes are on her. There’s no doubt that she's a professional as she leads me up to the velvet rooms.
It's my first time seeing the upper floor after its renovation, so my curiosity is as piqued by her as it is about the rooms.
I expected it to be dark up here, but I'm surprised to see how dark it really is. A hallway opens up before us once we reach the second floor. The area is wider and more open than I expected, and the walls are almost entirely covered by thick velvet curtains. Red lights on the ceiling provide dim and alluring illumination that allows little judgment about the decor on the walls or the color of the curtains.
Elene pauses for a moment, as if she has to find her bearings, before leading me down the hallway. It splits into several corridors, each of them lit in different colors, indicative of the different themes she told me about.
There's no music up here, nothing but dead silence, interrupted by an occasional moan and clashing of naked skin coming from somewhere behind the curtains. The walls of the smaller corridors branching away from the main hallway are entirely covered by velvet curtains allowing no one to see what might be going on behind them. A solid wall? A door? An open room? According to what I've been told, it could be any of the above.
Elene hesitates for another moment, as we listen in the dark to soft moans coming from somewhere to our left. I wait for her to continue moving down the hallway.
"The black room, you said," she whispers, without turning to me.
"The black room," I confirm.
She doesn't say another word, but strides forward, turning into the darkest one of the corridors. The farther we walk down it, the darker it gets—if that’s possible—and by the time she stops, I've been following her by ear more than by sight.
"Left," she breathes, and then I hear a muffled brush of fabric as she moves the thick velvet curtain aside. A hint of light filters into the hallway, guiding me where I need to go.
The room we enter is not quite as dark as the corridor we just traversed. One single lamp hanging from the ceiling provides just enough light for me to make out Elene’s outline as she moves to the center of the room. We are no longer walking on wood flooring, but on carpet, which muffles the sound of her heels.
"The light can be changed," she says, facing me. "There's a panel to your right. You can turn it up, or down, change the color, whatever you like."
I see her gesturing in the dark and look in the direction she's pointing. A little red light helps me find my bearings, and the first button I push is the one I was hoping for. The room gets lighter, but just barely. I leave my finger on the button and turn to look at her as I adjust the lighting to where I want it. Dim, but enough to see her, all of her. I need to see her face, not just the outline of her perfect body.
I stop adjusting the light as soon as I can see the smile on her face.
"That it?" she asks. "You can try other colors, too."
"No," I say. "This is fine."
"You're the boss."
She makes a move to walk toward me, her smile transforming into a seductive smirk.
I raise my hand to stop her.
"I didn't tell you to move," I snarl. "Stay where you are, directly under the light."
A hint of confusion crosses her face, but she nods, tipping her head back to spot the light above her. She positions herself right under it, never losing control of her movements. They're too perfect, too practiced. Nothing about the way she's moving since we got up here seems natural.
She's still looking at me with that professional allure when I approach her. Curiosity curls inside me, asking to test her, to see what it is like to be served by her. For the moment, I decide to listen to that inquisitive voice.
I come to a halt right in front of her, burying my hands inside my pants pockets while my eyes rest upon her. Even with her height and the ridiculous heels she's wearing, she has to tilt her head back a little to meet my gaze. Yet I don't think I've been as close to eye level with a girl standing before me as I am with her now.
I'm standing close enough for her to feel the hardness growing inside my pants. I deliberately lean my hips forward, touching her leg, just to see how she will react.
Her face looks so innocent, so pure, even with all the makeup and black lace adorning her sinful body. But her actions reveal her professionalism. She doesn't shy away from my growing bulge, but instead moves her leg to return the touch, as if we were greeting each other this way.
I don't give her any commands or any kind of reaction, but just study her, observing her routine. She bites her lower lip, but not like she did before. This time she does it knowingly, putting her entire expression into it as her lashes flutter in sync. Her hands reach forward, skillfully opening the button of my suit jacket before she reaches underneath it, stroking along the side of my torso. She inhales audibly when she can feel the muscles underneath the thin fabric.
"Damn, you must work out a lot."
Even her compliment sounds fake, despite being honest. I know what I look like, and I know the effect a ripped chest has on women. She likes it, and her adoration is not a lie, but the way she expresses it doesn't feel natural.
She's too impatient, too. As soon as she got a first feel of my upper body through the fabric of my shirt, she decides to travel upward, bypassing my strong pecs, my collarbone, and going right for the tie around my neck. She’s about to loosen the knot, and that’s when I stop her. I reach up and grab her wrists, shaking my head to signal her no. We exchange a quick look, before she nods with understanding. However, her next move is no less blatant.
Her hands trail down across my chest, cherishing the sculptured body I don't allow her to see just yet. She doesn't stop at the waistband of my pants, but continues further, placing her palm on top of my steely readiness. My cock twitches at her touch, especially when she tries to wrap her fingers around me, only stopped by the fabric separating us.
"Wow," she breathes. Her eyes follow to where her hands are as she takes a step back, holding onto my leg with one hand, while the other still cups my growing bulge.
She's just about to go down on her knees when I hold her back by placing my hands on her shoulders.
"Stop."
She freezes, not moving even an inch while I keep her in place, my hands closing around her small shoulders. Slowly I retreat from her, taking a step back and putting some distance between us. I can tell that she wants to follow me, but she manages to refrain from doing so.
"You said I could make this room whatever I want," I say, my voice eerily low.
She nods.
"Well, here's what I want," I continue, crossing my arms in front of my chest while I lock her in place just with my gaze. "I don't want you to act as if you're on a job. I don't want you to go through your routine, simply intent on pleasuring me."
She inhales, about to say something, but I stop her by simply raising a finger.
"I know you will say that's not what you're doing," I tell her. "But that would be a lie, and you know how much I hate being lied to. It would be an insult, and you don't want to insult me, am I right?"
She shakes her head. "No, si— Damon."
"Good girl," I praise. "Now listen, here's what I want you to do. It's quite simple, really. I want you to undress in front of me. Get naked, completely naked."
I take another two steps back, my arms still crossed and my cock still pushing against its fabric cage, yearning to be inside her. There's nothing I would rather do right now. I want to bury myself between her legs, have her warmth wrapped around me while I fuck the living hell out of her—but I want to do it right. I couldn't enjoy her if she insists on continuing her act, as if she's nothing more than another whore, faking, acting, and lying. I want the real her.
She looks at me with a puzzled look, but starts obeying when I jut my chin forward.
"You're not suddenly shy, are you?" I ask. "You must have done this thousands of times."
She casts me a look, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really," she whispers, as she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra. "Most men know to appreciate a fine piece of lingerie."
"Don't insult me," I warn her. "Just do as you're told."
Her eyes flicker, and for a moment, I can see her shine through. The real her. I'm presenting her with something new, with something she can't quite place, and she doesn't know how to deal with it. I like that.
Piece by piece, she peels herself out of the black lace adorning her body, removing the bra first and exposing a small set of firm tits with pink nipples. When she steps out of her high heels, she loses about five inches of height, but she doesn't shrink as much as most girls do. She sheds her wrist cuffs, the garter belt and the stockings, carefully rolling them down her long legs before placing them on the floor next to her feet. The last item she removes is the tiny black thong that barely covers anything but her pussy.
The sight of her bare lips drives me insane, sending another rush of hunger through my core and causing my cock to twitch with desperate need. Shit, she looks even more perfect than I imagined.
She looks at me, fighting the natural inclination to cover herself while I devour her naked body with my lustful eyes.
"Completely naked I said."
Confusion travels across her expression before she realizes what I'm talking about. She's still wearing the black choker.
"I didn't put this on you," I say, pointing at her neck. "And while I like the look, I don't want you to wear something around your neck that you didn't get from me."
I close in on her and reach around her neck, unhooking the choker myself. It lands on the floor next to her clothes, and she looks up at me with a trace of reproach. She doesn't fight me when I grab her by the shoulders again, moving her a little, so that the light from above is shining once again on her face.
"Now, listen to me, little one," I whisper, leaning in close to her ear without removing my hands from her shoulders. "This is what we're going to do...."