Is it done?”

“Yes. She’s on her way back. The plane lands at Teterboro in half an hour.”

“Good. And the apartment?”

“The tech guys are setting up as we speak. They’ll have to work through the night.”

“I want it done by morning, Fionnella. Double their pay if you have to.”

“I already did. And added a little sweetener on top because of the back-to-back work on the other project.”

I tuck the phone against my neck and do up the buttons of my black shirt. “You have my undying gratitude. You know that, of course.”

She sighs. “I would prefer waking up without more grey hairs than I go to sleep with. And please don’t tell me it suits me. No woman likes to hear that,” she says crisply.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Not that I don’t think it though.”

She chuckles. “You were always too smooth for your own good. Knew it right from the moment I met you.”

We both pause a couple of beats, the circumstances of our meeting temporarily stalling conversation. I have no doubt my life would be on the same course without meeting Fionnella Smith. But I’m aware the path I’ve taken has been less…lonely with her on board.

“We’re almost there, Nella,” I murmur.

Her breath catches on a hook of suppressed pain. Then she clears her throat briskly. “Yes. Okay.”

I snap out my sleeve before I start to fold it back onto my forearm. “So, did you meet any resistance?”

“You mean was she full of her usual twenty questions?”

“Hmm.”

“Of course, she was. You just had to confuse the hell out of the girl by paying her double for one night, didn’t you? Why the hell would you do that?”

Because I was rough with her. Because I loved every second of taking her ass. Because she was so fucking tight my cock still bears strangle marks.

“Was it not well received?”

“Was the bubonic plague well received? You’d think you’d sent her a case of anthrax instead of an extra hundred grand. She wants to know why, and I don’t think she’ll let it go. I spent the better part of an hour yesterday fielding her questions. So you better find a damn good reason for going off script.”

My blood thrums through my veins at the thought of going head to head with my firecracker. “I’ll take care of it.”

Fionnella exhales. “Thanks.” The response is a touch weary. She’s been waiting as long as I have for this to end. If I had a functioning heart, it would go out to her. All I can promise is the retribution that has been over a decade in coming. “I’ll be in touch when the place is all set.”

I hang up and finish dressing. The all-black attire cements my mood, and I firmly place the past weekend’s activities in a compartmentalized box by the time I gun the engine of my rarely used, nondescript Ford Mustang out of the underground garage and onto the street.

The brownstone in Brooklyn is another one I own, along with the identical unoccupied properties on either side of it. But these ones don’t come under the Blackwood umbrella. They’re untraceable purchases, procured through two-dozen shell companies. I drive past the houses and park at the end of the street. I would’ve preferred to park on another block altogether but I can’t risk being recognized.

I wait until I’m sure there’s no one around, and climb the steps to the brownstone. I let myself in and lock the door behind me. Unlike most of my other properties, this house is fully decorated. Artistic Tiffany floor lamps light the wide hallway, but the custom designed living room and kitchen are dark.

Music strains through the house from the single bedroom upstairs. I had the upstairs of the house modified to a specific layout, one that announced the space as fit for only one purpose.

The giving of pleasure.

I stride up the stairs in measured steps. Sultry laughter designed to entice weaves through the air as I enter the empty bedroom. The bed, the center of attention in the vast space, is emperor-sized, custom built to accommodate multiple partners. Bespoke sheets and linens drape the bed and weave around the four posts, expertly intertwined with soft lighting. In one corner, a spank bench waits decadently next to an elevated silver bucket holding three bottles of vintage champagne. I take it all in with dark satisfaction, sliding my hands into my pockets as I cross the room to lean in the bathroom doorway.

She’s the center of attention even in the extra large Jacuzzi bathtub. One foot is extended out of the water, clutched in the large hands of the man in front of her as she enjoys her foot massage. Behind her another man rubs her shoulders in smooth, firm circles. He must be the teller of the jokes, because her head is tilted back, her hungry eyes moving over his as she listens to his low, deep droning.

He delivers the punch line. She laughs. Then moans her approval at the foot rub before taking a sip of her champagne.

Foot rub guy’s gaze cuts to me, silently announcing my presence.

Delilah turns and gasps in delight when she sees me. “Oh, Quinn! I’m so happy you’re here. I thought you weren’t going to show.” She sets her glass on a nearby vanity and stretches out both hands to me.

I walk further into the bathroom but ignore her outstretched hands.

“Are you having fun?” I ask.

Her eyes flash at the snub, but her smile stays in place as she relaxes against the man beef behind her and strokes his jaw. “Derek and Kyle have done a great job of keeping me company. But seriously, Quinn, do we have to meet all the way in Brooklyn?” Her pout is artificial and irritating.

And her statement is rich considering she was born and bred in Queens.

“A small price to pay for all of this, don’t you think?” I say.

She rolls her eyes and proffers her other foot to Derek. Or is it Kyle? I never stopped long enough to work out which twin was which. “I hate it when you go all practical on me. You’re here now, baby. That’s all that matters.” Her gaze locks hard on me, before she conducts a ravenous survey of my body. “Are you going to join us?”

I stroll to the vanity and lean, crossed legged against it. “Sorry, sweetheart. I had a shower half an hour ago.”

“Hmm…shame.” Her gaze climbs up and rests on my hair. “Interesting color. You revisiting a boy band phase?”

I slide my hand through the dirty blond strands I haven’t had time to alter. “I never had a boy band phase. But yes…I’m experimenting.”

Her eyes lock on mine again and she licks her lips. “My favorite word…experimenting.”

My skin wants to crawl away from my body. But even it knows what’s at stake, so it stays put.

I straighten and start undoing my shirt. “When you’re done frolicking in the bath, I’ll be in the bedroom.” I walk back out, return to the bedroom. I hear her instructing Derek…or Kyle…to help her out.

I tug my shirt off and toss it into a chair. Shoes and socks come off next. My pants stay on, though. As does the vintage Patek Philippe watch on my wrist. It has a special significance in the Maxwell/Delilah game.

I ignore the low, excited laughter behind me and crawl onto the bed. Lounging in the midst of a dozen pillows against the massive headboard, I fold my arms and wait for her to come out.

It’s a production, of course.

She’s beautiful. She’s powerful. As wife of the incumbent governor, she commands the greatest state in the world. But Delilah Blackwood has danced in the palm of my hand since the day we met. That’s not to say I don’t give her fair due.

She walks out with the strut of a regal queen. The Chinese silk robe is untied, and drapes to the floor. She’s naked underneath it, of course. The jet black hair that was pinned up in the bath is now flowing over her slim shoulders. She walks three steps in front of the identical twins, who follow, buff slaves, towels draped around their waists. Her grey eyes grow dark, a feverishly carnal gleam stoking the depths as her gaze runs over my body. She licks her lower lip and I can tell she’s a breath away from panting like the bitch she is.

When she stops at the bottom of the bed, each twin helps her slide the robe off her shoulders. At thirty-five her body is still youthful enough to not require the attention of a surgeon’s knife. And yet her boobs hold an unnatural perk.

I move my gaze from her tits and watch her run her hands over her thighs.

“I’ve missed you so much, Quinn.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing all the way over there?” I ask.

Her pleased smile lights up her whole face. She hitches a knee onto the bed and crawls sinuously toward me. When she reaches my legs, she runs both hands up my inner calves and thighs. I lounge back against the headboard and allow the caress. Her fingers tremble as they approach my cock. She’s highly turned on but also nervous. She doesn’t know which version of Quinn she’s going to get. Her gaze darts up at me as she struggles to overcome the nerves.

“God, you look so serious,” she half laughs.

“This is serious business, my sweet,” I reply.

The endearment eases her tension a touch, like it’s designed to. She grows bolder and cups me through my pants. I’m chubby enough to please her. Her smile widens. Her stare returns to my crotch and her mouth falls open as she gets caught up in increasing my girth. I look up and nod subtly at the twins.

They drop their towels and get on the bed. Delilah jerks a little in delight when twin hands caress her body. But she doesn’t pay them much attention. It’s me she wants. Me she’s dying to fuck.

I unfold my arms, giving her silent consent. Her hand leaves my cock and inches up my torso. Her touch on my bare skin makes my gut clench hard.

“My God, Quinn, you have no idea how much I’ve needed this, darling.”

She crawls closer and replaces her hands with her mouth. Her tongue licks greedily at my flesh, then her teeth join in the fun. She’s growing more frenzied by the minute. Behind her, one twin trails a flogger down her back as the other works a hand between her thighs. Her eyes drift shut and she shivers in anticipation. I nod at the flogger bearer and he brings it down hard across her back, then repeats it every five seconds. Delilah’s guttural moans are pure bitch in heat. The pungent scent of her arousal coats the air, and her teeth sink into my pecs as her excitement escalates. She kisses her way up my body to my neck. When she opens her mouth over my pulse, I grab her by the throat. Her pulse beats a frenzied tattoo against my fingers.

“Hickies will get you no cock,” I warn. My voice is a blade of ice.

She shivers and strains against my hold. “Kiss me, please.”

“All in good time.”

She pouts and grabs my face in both hands. Her thumb drifts over my lower lip, the ravenous look in her eyes all-consuming as she jerks through the flogging. “God, you’re so sexy, Quinn. I…think I’m falling in love with you.”

I lift one eyebrow. “The sex is that good?”

Her expression dims. “You know it’s not just the sex. I care about you.”

I believe her. After all, who wouldn’t care about an heir to an unimaginable fortune with a huge experienced cock to boot? She cares enough to have aided and abetted Maxwell in his endeavors, while spreading her legs for younger men whenever his back was turned.

“I know you do, darling. Thank you,” I murmur.

Her face softens, right before she moans as another strike lashes across her back. I let go of her neck and her mouth strains for mine.

In a swift move, I catch her around the waist and flip her beneath me. She gasps in delight and curls her legs around my waist. I reach behind me and snap my fingers. A leather choker is slapped into my palm. I slide it up her skin and she shivers.

“Is that for me, baby?” she asks sultrily.

“Everything in this room is for you. You’re a queen. You deserve it.” I loop the choker around her throat and tie it tight. Her breath truncates and her pupils dilate.

Easy. So fucking easy.

Another snap of my fingers and I receive the ropes. In under a minute she’s secured to the bed. I trail my hand from her throat to her tits. I toy with each globe before sliding lower. Her eyes stay on me, hungry, greedier with each passing second. I slip past the triangle of groomed hair at her crotch and touch her leathery clit.

“Oh, yes!”

I play with her for a minute, then remove my touch. “Not wet enough. Clearly you’re not as pleased to see me as I thought you were.” I remove myself and perch on the side of the bed.

Her head jerks up off the pillow. “No! Please, Quinn. I’m wet. I promise.”

I stretch out beside her and trail my fingers over her cheek. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m not offended. It’s been a while for both of us. Why don’t we let Derek and Kyle have a go at that sweet pussy? And I can just…bask in your beauty.”

I don’t need to signal the twins. They’re already buried between her legs. They take turns licking and flogging her pussy. When her eyes begin to roll, I hook my fingers beneath the choker and pull. Her whole body jerks. I take turns pulling and releasing. She climaxes in under a minute. I continue stroking her cheek as Kyle puts on a condom. Before she’s fully recovered, he penetrates her.

“No,” she moans weakly. “I want you, Quinn.”

“You’ll have me. First we need to reward the boys for their beautiful work on you, don’t you think?”

She nods grudgingly, then inhales sharply as the thrusts get harder, rougher. Derek climbs higher up the bed and plays with her nipples. When they’re erect, he clips tiny pegs to the peaks. Then he goes to work with the flogger. A scream rips through her throat with each strike.

“Am I losing you, sweetheart?”

She shakes her head vigorously, her gaze struggling to stay on mine.

“Good.” I lean in closer, brush my nose against her cheek. She turns her head and nuzzles me. “Where does Maxwell think you are tonight?” I ask.

“At…a Women Librarian focus group in Midtown.”

I laugh. “How very naughty of you, abandoning the women like that. And where is the governor tonight?” I press.

She shudders and moans before answering, “Fundraiser for veterans at Lincoln Center.”

“And here you are, his precious gem, getting your rocks off behind his back,” I taunt.

Her gaze starts to harden, and I catch the glimpse of the Delilah who didn’t blink twice about committing a felony in order to take out a rival. A series of merciless thrusts from Kyle dissolves the look. “I make a better governor’s wife when I’m well satisfied.” She turns her head and meets Kyle’s gaze. “Harder!”

He complies. Her head rears back, and she screams as another orgasm flays her. The twins switch places. Derek is the rougher of the two. Before she has time to recover, he takes control of her.

When she catches her breath a little, her gaze seeks mine. She wants to protest my non-involvement, but she’s enjoying herself too much. When Kyle pulls roughly at the nipple pegs, she groans deep and surrenders to the hedonistic pleasure.

An hour later, she’s bathed in sweat. Her screams roll into each other.

When she climaxes for the fourth time, I turn away, suppress a shudder.

Baste myself in darkness and purpose.

“Quinn, you…I need you,” she slurs, her multiple orgasms making her near delirious.

I stand, pull down my pants and boxers enough to take out my semi-hard cock. I re-mount the bed and position myself between her thighs. Derek and Kyle are taking turns kissing and flogging her tits and midriff. She’s trying to see me, but they’re in her way. I play with her soaked pussy for a while then reach for the toy I need. She moans deliriously as I cram her full with the dildo. It does its job superbly, but it’s the ever-tightening choker Kyle is working that gives her the auto-erotic experience she craves. This time when she comes, she passes out.

I hop off the bed, and zip up my pants.

“Don’t untie her until I’m gone.”

“She’s gonna be pissed,” Kyle says.

“I’m sure you can handle her. If she’s extra work, let me know. I’ll see that you’re compensated.”

I take off the watch and lay it face down on the bedside table so the inscription underneath is visible.

From Delilah to Maxwell. Fidelity and Love. Everlasting.

The twins grin at each other as I redress and leave.

My stomach rolls hard against the iron clench I have on it as I rush out of the brownstone and head toward my car. The seething bile bubbling up inside me rises with each step. I get to the Mustang just as it surges up my throat.

Bending over, I vomit on the sidewalk.