by Kenya Wright
My body shifted into a vibrating ball of need. This was just too much. Everywhere I turned was sex. Every sound I heard was ecstasy. Every scent reminded me of making love and being caught within wild desires.
I held onto Roman’s arms and moaned.
As if I was falling over, he grabbed me and held my body tight to him. “Was that a question, Emi?”
I drowned in this sleepy haze of lust. It was hard to blink my eyes. All I could think about were those bodies and how Roman stood right next to me with a thick hard-on.
“Emi?” He licked his lips. “Maybe I can take you to my private room so we can better pay attention to the interview.”
“Will this private room be in a corn field?”
“Corn field?” He chuckled.
“Will there be tons of ears around?”
“Oh.” His amused face changed to a frown. “Yes. This entire castle is embedded within a cornfield.”
Moans took my attention away for a minute. I turned my head and spotted three men licking a woman in front of them. They never touched each other. Each man just focused on her. One rubbed her clit with his fingers and every few twirls, lapped at the pink bud. Another toyed with her nipples as the last kissed her thighs and stroked himself. Over and over, she wriggled in pleasure and I just knew she was having an amazing time.
Roman buried his face into my cleavage and kissed each breast. “Emi, let me take you somewhere private? Let’s get this crazy hunger over with now. Maybe we can focus after that.”
“And the ears?”
“Fuck them. I want you. I don’t care who listens as long as no one is touching you.”
I bit my lip, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. It was against my rule. It was beyond all logic. He needed my help. He could’ve been using my body against me, to convince me to do something crazy. I still had no idea who he really was or what all of this would end up meaning?
But still, I had to have him. And he was making sense to my pussy.
“Let’s get this crazy hunger over with now. Maybe we can focus after that.”
“Emi?” He landed more kisses on my flesh. “Please, Emi. Let me take this gown off of you. Please. I’d do anything to taste you. What do you want?”
“You.”
“Me.” He captured my bottom lip and sucked. I moaned into his mouth.
“Let’s go.”
“Hell yes.” In a flash, he lifted me up like I weighed nothing and carried me through the ocean of moans and nude bodies twisting and caressing each other.My gown flowed over the waves of faces as Roman rushed us out of there.
The purple masked men continued to follow and I hoped they’d at least give us space to have sex.
God, I hope I’m not making a mistake.
CHAPTER 8
Roman
I can’t take this anymore. I have to her. I just have to taste her.
Why did I think I could walk her through the orgy room and be okay? My erection barely let me walk. The fact that I’d even been able to discuss the Etruscans was a talent in itself. All I’d really wanted to do was scream out lewd things to Emi.
“Baby, I’m going to rip that gown away, feather by feather, until your naked and bare in front of me.”
“I’m going to push your thighs apart and then my tongue will take its time on your cunt.”
“Emi, I can’t walk or talk anymore until my cock is deep inside of your wet pussy.”
It took a good ten minutes to carry her out of there. The men remained right behind me. There was no way I would let them follow us into the small office I’d been using on the second level. There would be no reason for them to follow anyway. I was sure the devil had that room stacked with microphones and cameras. If anything, we’d be giving the devil a show, and I couldn’t care any less.
The whole time I got us out of there, Emi watched all of the people around us. These guests had begun doing their thing before the introductory performance could come in and give them the rules.
Or did the performance already happen? Am I that off of schedule?
I opened the door.
We entered the hallway. I turned to greet the men. The paused, when they spotted me waiting.
“Hey,” I said to them both. “My guest is feeling like she’s close to fainting. I’m going to take her to my private office. If you want, you can feel free to stand outside of the door.”
They said nothing, which I hoped was a good sign. I wanted Emi so bad I was close to making love to her right in front of them.
No. I can’t. I don’t want anyone seeing her. Fuck. Can I even make love to her in that office? Maybe I can turn off the lights. I doubt they’d have night vision cameras. I’d done nothing odd. Surely, they trusted me a little.
My phone rang in my pocket. There was no need to answer. I knew it had to be Butter. He probably caught me carrying her out of the room and on one of the cameras. He’d hacked into a few of them, praying that no one would notice.
I gazed down at Emi, as she lay warm in my arms. “I don’t know how I didn’t take you right on those castle steps.”
A smile formed on her face. “Me, either. I definitely wanted you.”
“Is that right, sweet Emi? How bad did you want me?”
“So bad that I masturbated to you in the shower, before I flew to London.”
I almost stumbled over my feet. “I may have beat you.”
“How’s that?”
“I masturbated to you for a period of six months, over five years ago.”
“When you were. . .down and out?”
“Yes, when I was homeless, you were a sort of hope for me. An erotic motivation for me to get my ass up and get moving.”
She widened her mouth in a shocked expression. “I don’t believe you.”
“Too bad, my Emi.” We passed by the entrance to the third room. “I have no proof.”
She gave me a flirty pout. “There’s no way you masturbated to me all of those years ago.”
“I can tell you certain outfits that you would wear on C-SPAN.” I reluctantly eyed the fourth room and kept us down the hallway. The office stood at the end. I couldn’t believe it, but for once I’d said fuck the devil and decided to think of me for a few minutes.
“What’s one of the outfits I would wear?” Emi asked. “Not that I’m sure that I can even remember what I wore back then.”
“You had a lot of plaid ones that were the color of an American flag.”
“Oh God. My mother thought that would make me appear more friendly and patriotic.”
“Oh they did,” I said. “For some reason, it made jacking off to you even more naughty. Just like a young catholic school boy might stroke himself to a hot nun at his school.”
“That’s by far one of the most degenerate metaphors I’ve ever heard.”
“I do my best.”
We arrived at my office. Quickly, I opened the door.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Butter stood there, leaning against my desk. “Hello, Roman. I was wondering, if you needed any assistance?”
“I don’t need any,” I said through clenched teeth. “I just wanted to show Emi. . .Emily my office really quick.”
Nodding, Butter got up from the desk and gestured to the whole space. “Well, there we have it. One small office with a simple desk, chair, lamp, and phone. Nothing more.”
It’s all I need.
I pictured myself knocking everything off of my desk, placing her on the surface, lifting that gown, and devouring her center. Why did Butter have to come in now? Why did he have to know me so fucking well? When did he realize that I could not control myself with Emi?
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Slowly, I let Emi down.
So smart, she remained quiet, but took in Butter. I wondered what she thought as she stared at him. Although wearing a designer suit and all the glamour that went with it, he had on no frills or even a mask. Butter was focused on the mission. He had a stake in this as much as me, it
was just that I was too busy focusing on my cock.
“Yes. It is a nice office.” Emi straightened her gown and extended her hand to him. “Hello, I’m Emily.”
“And I’m leaving.” He held her hand and decorated her with his gaze. “You are really enchanting. I can see why my friend is so taken with you.”
“Is he?” she said.
“Oh yes, so much that’s he’s being reckless.” He nodded at her, let go of her hand, and walked away. “So you two are off to room three?”
I cleared my throat. “Apparently.”
“Yes,” Butter said. “Apparently.”
Emi appeared disappointed as she took my arm and let me walk her out into the hallway. Or maybe I just wanted her to be upset. I damn sure was. Hadn’t I stressed enough in these past months? Hadn’t I run through this plan and stayed up in bed on sleepless nights, wondering if all of us would make it?
And here she was in front of me, this woman that can help us all, and in every second of being with her, sex dripped from those full lips and blazed in her eyes. She was breathtaking to be around, and we hadn’t even been together for more than an hour. I didn’t know someone could do that. Never had something like this happened to me. And I’d dated and slept with many women. What was it about Emi that made her different from the others? Was I just so stressed that my mind decided to obsess about her sexually? Or were these real feelings? Did shit like this really happen in real life?
I had no time to think about it as we passed the fourth room again. Dread filled my heart. Maybe these emotions for Emi were fake. I damn sure didn’t want to take her in that room. I didn’t even want to go in there myself.
Only the sickest of men had access to that place, and it would be right where the devil would be lounging and enjoying himself. If I could’ve snuck poisoned wine or blew the room up and only take the men in that room, I would have. I’d considered so many plans, but none would save those women.
Fuck. Am I just listening to my cock because I’m being a punk about going in there? It has to be.
Straightening myself up, I guided Emi to the third room. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay.”
We both glanced behind us. Butter and the masked men had gone. They’d probably got more intrigued at why Butter was on the property than following me around. No one expected him to be here because he’d yelled his dismay the most when it came to the devil.
“Things are getting tense.” Emi turned to me. “We should probably focus on. . .the interview.”
“Yes.”
And then she whispered, “This is crazy.”
“You have no idea, sweet Emi. You have no idea.” I opened the door.
The entire space was covered in flowers. A fake sun blazed on one side of the room. A fake moon glowed on the other. It was up to guests to decide which part of day they wanted to spend in that space.
In the center, a string quartet played harmoniously together. Blindfolds covered the musicians’ eyes. The two female violin players were naked, except for the flowers concealing their nipples and sex. The viola player was a tall black man with a curly Mohawk. His cock hung low along his cushioned seat and a silver piercing dangled at the tip. The cellist wore a full suit with flowers stuck to his collar. For all of my staff, performers, and musicians, I gave them full permission to dress as they wanted for certain rooms. Clearly the other three musicians were much more comfortable with their bodies, and the cellist enjoyed to be clothed.
I smiled as exquisite notes flowed from all of them. The music blended perfectly with the flowers that bloomed along every inch on the walls and ceiling. I’d ordered fifty thousand flowers for this space. Soft peach ribbons tied together a bouquet of stunning cream roses, pink mini carnations, blushing lisianthus, and blue hydrangea. These thousands of bouquets covered the walls and ceilings, giving the guests the sense of walking within a fantasy garden. A floral scent thickened the air. Green shaggy grass served as the floor. It was another horrific bill, but it worked. We’d transformed a huge room into a tiny village.
Good job on this one.
Grinning, I breathed it in, happy that I’d pulled off a good setting.
Five poles, twenty feet long, were throughout the room and decorated in garland, primrose, rowan, and marsh marigold. Long brightly colored ribbons were attached to it. Many of the masked guests danced around the pole, each holding the end of a ribbon. Men went one way and the women sashayed in the opposite direction, creating a lovely sheath of ribbons around each maypole.
Fake bonfires were scattered around the room. It was a lamp effect that looked like a flame. They stood about five feet tall and were plugged into outlets. Once turned on, a fan came on at the base and blew a silky glittery cloth upward that flashed the light and made it all sparkle and glow. Many guests just stood hand-in-hand next to the bonfires, whispering things and giggling too.
The ancient Celts celebrated Beltane. At the beginning of spring, they would gather and dance around a pole similar to the ones in the room. Villagers decorated it in flowers and garlands. They danced around the pole, symbolizing fertility through the union between Mother Earth and their god, Bel.
“Oh.” Emi smiled. “This reminds me of a Maypole celebration.”
“Yes. A maypole is one of the symbols of Beltane.”
“Okay. I’ve heard of that too.” Her smile widened.
“Sex used to be a part of Beltane, but then the Puritans banned it in 1644.”
“Those damn Puritans were always ruining people’s lives back then.”
“Yes.” I chuckled. “One of the sexiest parts of Beltane was when a couple would rush off into freshly plowed fields, full of lust and the spirit of the festival, and make love all night. All this was done to get a bountiful harvest, of course.”
“Awesome.” She clapped. “Let’s have sex for the harvest, my darling, lift up your skirt so that our village may eat this year. Not a bad line.”
“Oh I bet every guy got lucky on that day.”
The string quartet began to play a soft song. Something that hummed with emotion and made me want to lay down in the grass and count every petal on the ceiling. My shoulders relaxed.
She pointed to one of the maypoles. “I remember something about that being a phallic symbol.”
“Yes. That would be a good symbol. All of Beltane is sex.”
“All of it?”
“Imagine, a goddess and god strolling together in heaven. The perfume of spring dances all around them. The hot son blazes through their flesh and the moon cools them as they finally make love. They’re giving birth to harvest and good luck, but let’s not pretend. They are definitely fucking for the good of others.”
She giggled. “If one was to fuck, it should be for the good of others.”
I took us over to one of the glittering bonfires. There were only three guests next to it. Two women and one man in engaged in conversation, as well as some petting.
She pointed at the silky flames. “And what does the fire represent?”
“Fire was seen as a source of control and good fortune.” I let go of her hand and touched the feathers on her mask. “Bonfires were lit to protect their livestock from future harm.” I knew I shouldn’t be touching her, but still, I trailed my fingers down her cheekbones that I’d kissed earlier. “Villagers also jumped over fires for good luck. Others believed that one could gain control over a neighbor by pilfering the fire from their hearth on Beltane.”
I unhooked my arm from around Emi’s and captured her soft hand. “This room won’t rock us like the last one. A lot of the people in here are practicing pagans. Rich ones that don’t like to let the public know. Others are elite covens. Uber wealthy men and women who are devoted to mixing nature with spirituality.”
“Interesting.”
“This room should be safe; it won’t hit you so hard like last time.”
“Is that what happened?” she asked. “The room hit me and I had to have you.”
<
br /> I rubbed my lips, thinking of each time I’ve kissed her. “Maybe. Or. . .”
Just leave it alone. Don’t talk about this now. Oh fuck. I just want to ask her. I can’t get this off my mind.
“Or what?” she asked.
“Or maybe there isn’t a crazy attraction between us. Something that we should explore, eventually.”
She reached her hand out to touch the silky flames and giggled, when a few fluttered against her. “You think we should explore that, after this interview and. . . everything else?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe.” She slowly walked around the fire.
“Maybe?” I followed.
The three guests left, rushing off into the back of the room where others began shedding their clothes among the flowers and caressing bare skin. The string quartet continued their lovely melody, almost enticing my flesh as much as they romanced my ears.
She slowly strolled in front of me, her gown trailing behind her. “You’ll probably be on your way to the next woman by the time we finish whatever we are doing.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’ve had over a hundred women.”
“Says magazines that have never interviewed me.”
“And what do you say?” She faced me. The bonfire’s sparkling light skittered across her flesh.
“I say that it doesn’t matter how many women I’ve slept with, like it doesn’t matter how many men you’ve been with. All I care about is this moment, and the next, and the next.” I drew her into my arms. “And the next.”
She looked into my eyes. “What do you really want to explore with me?”
“Sex and everything else.”
“Like what?”
“Like why can’t I keep my hands off of you and I’ve only been around you for barely an hour? Why did you motivate me all of those years ago, by just seeing you on tv? How did you get me out of my depression with your interviews alone?”
Shocked, she widened her eyes. “You really were serious about masturbating to me back in the day?”