CHAPTER 4
Hannah
How my legs are even supporting me at this point is a true miracle. Perhaps to torture me or to just get me in the mood, Asher gave me a tour of the entire club. It included each room he had described except for the Deck. He was surprisingly gallant about not needling me about my fear of heights.
Within each room, I saw actions that defied imagination. The Silo fascinated me the most with its circular rooms made of transparent glass around the perimeter. Inside, people were on full display as they performed the kinkiest sexual acts I have ever seen.
Asher explained everything to me, seducing my sense of hearing right along with my sight. His voice a low, sexy murmur near my ear.
Look at that woman right there; she’s taking three men at once. It’s beautiful.
I’d love to see you locked in the stocks—naked and at my mercy. Maybe I’d even share you with a few other men.
Ever been on a St. Andrew’s cross before? You look like a girl who could take a little pain.
I’ve never been with multiple men, or been into BDSM, but watching sure as hell made me realize there was a world out there that intrigued the hell out of me.
I wonder if Asher instinctively knew that about me. Could he peg me as a woman who would be susceptible to such things when he made his proposition?
Outside the Orgy Room, Asher stops to talk with a man who is exiting. I don’t pay him any attention. Instead, I stare past both men to get a brief glimpse of what lies inside before the door closes. When it does, I’m forced to give attention to the gorgeous acquaintance conversing with Asher, who is regarding me with curiosity.
“I see you brought someone in tonight,” the man says. He’s as tall as Asher with blond spiky hair and a trim goatee.
“Trying something a little different,” Asher says with a shrug, his hand pressed to my lower back where it’s been most of the evening. His thumb strokes me through the thin silk of my dress, making my nipples harder than ever.
I don’t even take offense to his disregard of me. I’m not here to make friends or be something other than a one-night stand to Asher, so it’s of no consequence when the blond man gives me a polite nod and walks off.
Asher pulls the door of the Orgy Room open, then motions for me to go ahead of him.
The glimpse I’d had before doesn’t do justice to the full-scale debauchery going on inside. My breath stops as I take it all in. The room is massive, dimly lit, and furnished with a variety of low-slung couches, chaises, and even piles of sumptuous pillows to recline on.
Couples, threesomes, and even foursomes are sprawled all over, actively engaging in sex. The air is filled with a sexualized vibe, pulsing with moans, dirty whispered words, and slapping flesh. Although the room is darkened, there are spotlights in the ceiling that aim down on the furnishings, supplying stark revelation of the entangled masses below.
I’m terrified and exhilarated at the same time.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Asher asks as he takes my hand and leads me around the perimeter of the room.
Not quite the word I would use, only because it doesn’t seem powerful enough.
I gawk as I follow Asher to the far side, where he brings me to a stop next to an extra-wide cushioned platform where a woman is having sex with two men.
I don’t consider myself naïve and threesomes aren’t a new idea—thank you, romance novels—but seeing it is something to behold.
One man is flat on his back, legs over the edge of the cushioned bench and feet planted on the floor. The woman is on top of the man, riding him.
Except she’s not sitting up straight and proud; rather, she’s leaning forward with her hands gripping the man’s shoulders. The second man stands at the edge, right behind the woman, and he’s fucking her in the ass.
I’m mesmerized, taking note that the woman isn’t even moving. The men are doing the work, drilling into her so she’s practically delirious with pleasure.
“I can arrange that if you want,” Asher says as he moves behind me. His hands come to my waist to hold me in place, not that I’d turn away from this spectacle. “Kynan McGrath—the man I just spoke to before we walked in—is a good friend. He’d be more than happy to oblige.”
I shake my head. As fascinated and turned on as I am, I’m sure that would hurt like hell.
Chuckling, Asher moves his body in close to mine. I can feel the heat of his chest at my back, then his warm breath is at my ear. “Just as well. I’m not sure I really want to share you on your first visit here.”
I startle at his words, not only that he’s feeling proprietary, but also his implication I’ll be back here again at some point.
“First and only visit,” I remind him, quite breathlessly to my chagrin.
“Of course,” he agrees politely. But then, his civility is gone as he moves one hand from my hip to my stomach where he presses his palm into my belly. He holds me tight, and I can feel his erection against my lower back. It’s thick and hard. I have to resist the urge to reach behind me to touch him.
His other hand leaves my hip to pull my hair away from my neck. My eyes flutter closed when I feel his mouth on my skin. He grazes his lips up my neck to my ear, murmuring, “Are you turned on by watching other people fucking?”
No sense in lying, so I nod. I’m beyond turned on. Besides, he already knows it, so what’s the use in lying?
Asher’s hand slides down my belly to my pelvis where he uses his fingers to inch my skirt up. Panic flashes over me as I realize he’s going to blatantly reveal my body to the crowd. When I lock my small hand on his wrist, he hesitates.
“Want me to stop? Or do you want my fingers in your sweet cunt?”
Air hisses out through my teeth as my body sort of melts backward into him, clearly capitulating. I let go of his wrist, snake my arm up, and wrap my hand around the back of his neck while I lean into his shoulder. I even slightly spread my legs, which makes Asher groan in approval before he slips a finger right inside of me.
He curses low. “Fucking dripping.”
A shiver runs up my spine. My hips buck as he pulls out and drags the wet tip over my clit. It’s so sensitized. I’m so turned on it won’t take much to get me off. In fact, I want to beg him for it.
I want to plead with him to make me come, and I want to promise to do dirty things to him in exchange. As I think all these things, I ignore the flash of guilt I simultaneously experience. I remind myself of what’s important—I can use the money he’s paying me to fight for Hope. What does it matter if I experience pleasure out of the deal, too?
The five thousand will hire me an attorney. Not the best, but certainly a good one I can pay to take on Nelson’s high-priced attorneys.
Stars burst in my eyes as Asher presses two fingers into me, so deeply I come up on my tiptoes. His other arm wraps tightly under my breasts as he hitches me up a little further, holding me almost off the floor while he fondles between my legs with touches so sinfully on point that my blood starts to rage.
“Please,” I manage to rasp out, and he laughs darkly.
He doesn’t make me beg any further, though. Twisting his hand, he uses his thumb to strum my clit. The feeling of his fingers inside me and the pressure on my nub—the way he’s got my dress hiked up so he can obscenely finger fuck me in front of a room full of people—it all has me reeling.
Before long, I’m breaking apart as I start to orgasm.
“Yes,” he growls in triumph as my muscles clench onto his fingers. A low, rumbling moan of release escapes my lips.
Then his hands are gone, and my dress is being tugged over my head. My arms willingly lift, giving him lazy access to bare my entire body, and then he spins me around.
Lowers me onto a mound of huge pillows covered in dark purple silk that must have been there the entire time, even though they seem to magically appear so we have a soft bed of iniquity for our use.
He towers over me, eyes roaming over my body as he starts to disrobe. I blatantly stare at him, still immersed in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss and burgeoning new lust as his clothes come off.
Asher’s cock is enormous, veined, and beautiful. I wonder if he wants my mouth there. I’ll gladly do it.
Instead, he’s kneeling between my legs. Awestruck, I watch as he rolls a condom onto his hard length. His hands go to my legs, pulls them further apart, and then he lowers himself onto me. I sink further into the plush pillows, feeling completely captured by the weight of his body.
The tip of his cock is pulsing at my entrance, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he stares at me a moment before lowering his head to place his mouth on mine. It’s the first time we’ve kissed.
He’s made me orgasm… and we haven’t even kissed yet.
Just as his tongue sweeps into my mouth, he presses himself into me. One long, sliding sweep of his cock into my pussy. When he’s fully impaled, he lets out a soft groan into my mouth.
I had thought having sex in front of a bunch of strangers would be as embarrassing as it was titillating. Instead, all thoughts and reason just seem to melt away.
As of now, there’s only Asher and me in this room. I’m completely consumed by the way he feels inside of me. When he begins to move, I start to fly. His thrusts are so fully penetrating, so demanding and consuming, that I find my body giving over to him completely. Another orgasm fires, brews, builds, and with a deep thrust from Asher, breaks free. I buck and scream. He kisses me harder to smother it.
Fucks me harder.
His hands go to my wrists, and he pins them above my head. Fierce lust in his hazel eyes, Asher gazes at me. I start to burn from the inside out. Another tremor of pleasure hits me hard, runs up my spine, and has me arching into him.
“Fuck,” Asher grunts as he plows deeply into me once more. As he starts to come, I watch the veins stand out at his temples and his eyes flash with relief as he pours himself into the condom with a massive, heaving shudder of his body.
Staying stiff for a moment, he finally relaxes and slumps against me. It’s for long enough that I can bring my hand to his head and run my fingertips through his sweaty hair. I almost have time to open my mouth to tell him how amazing that was before he’s rolling off me.
Asher stands, grabs my discarded dress, and drops it on my legs.
“It’s getting late,” he says as he peels the condom off and tosses it in a nearby trash can.
Nabbing his pants from the floor, he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a piece of folded paper. He hands it to me. Numbly, I take it while holding my dress over my lap.
I thumb the paper open, knowing exactly what it is.
A check made payable to me for five thousand dollars.