Victor placed his hand on mine, so that the three of us were joined, and he said, “If a gentleman is to grant a lady her heart’s desire, it is his business to know.”
Wrensten left us, backing all the way out of the parlor. Victor didn’t watch him go. Victor Vladstok only had eyes for Bev and me. It was intoxicating.
The Black Sea port accented my truffle infused crème brulee perfectly. I sipped it as daintily as my greedy gullet would allow, which was not terribly dainty at all. Soon, it was all gone. Victor Vladstok watched Bev and I as we ate our dessert. His eyes glowed the whole time.
When we were done, Victor rang the crystal bell once more, and Wrensten appeared. I got a much better look at Wrensten this time. Wrensten was a handsome man, although he lacked the enigmatic charisma of our host. White cotton gloves covered Wrensten’s hands, and what I found remarkable was how clean those gloves were. Here was Victor Vladstok’s footman, who appeared to be constantly on call and busy, and yet his gloves were pristine. It was quite curious.
My curiosity was tending not to stay put, though. The martinis and port wine had seen to that. I smiled at Wrensten, and although the saw my smile, he did not smile back. Wrensten placed our brandies and coffees on a tray, and walked out through a different door.
“Ladies,” Victor Vladstok said as he rose to his feet without making a sound. He didn’t push his chair out; he didn’t lean on the arms of the chair to rise; and he didn’t push back from the table. It was eerie—his chair just seemed to slide out of his way when he chose to rise. “Ladies,” Victor said, “after-dinner music is felicitous for the digestion. Come with me.”
Bev and I exchanged glances, and she mouth “Oh my god” to me while fanning herself. Yeah, I thought it was pretty hot too.
The parlor we had eaten in sat beside a two story room with deep black hardwood floors that were polished to a shine. The brick walls rose in stately order up the two stories, and a dozen narrow windows rose up along the wall, providing a view of the river in the deep of night. I looked up at the chandelier that hung over the center of the floor—it had real wax candles in it! They were all lit, there must have been over fifty candles, and they cast a flickering warm light over the space.
A stringed quartet started playing once we entered. I wondered how they could possibly read their music in such dim, intimate lighting. Good thing I didn’t give voice to my question—I obviously didn’t travel around string quartets much—they had their songs memorized. They must have, because there was no sheet music. As I peered more closely, I could see them, matching shoes, matching tuxes with tails, and matching sunglasses. The sunglasses looked nineteenth century in style. The lenses were small black circles, and there were shades alongside that made the sunglasses into goggles. And then it hit me. Every member of the string quartet was blind!
“Ooh!” I squeaked. Victor snaked his hand behind my back and gave me a side-hug that lifted my feet off the floor. “Olivia,” he cooed, “Please forgive me, but I must dance with Beverly. My impulses, they are so terribly strong, I cannot resist them.” Goodness! I couldn’t get over how strong Victor was, to pick me up with one arm like that. I blushed as I realized how pleased I was to be made to feel tiny.
It all happened so fast. I told Victor I didn’t mind at all, and then he released me and Beverly stood before me, her hands on my arms. Beverly’s eyes were twinkling. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” Beverly asked.
“No,” I said. “Have fun, please.”
Beverly bounced in place like a schoolgirl. My eyes drifted down to her rolling cleavage—Beverly had undone some buttons. Her breasts were pink with flushed excitement. Beverly’s palms clasped my cheeks, and she lifted my gaze to her. “You are such a living doll,” Beverly said. “You really are. I love you!” Beverly pressed her lips to mine. My eyes must have popped wide in surprise, but that didn’t last long. I forced my eyes shut and enjoyed Beverly’s kiss. My hands settled on the pleasing curves of her hips, and I could feel our bosoms press together. Beverly pulled back, smiling, and then darted back with another playful buss.
“I love you too, Bev. Now go and dance. I want to watch you dance with Victor.”
Beverly skipped off and away, straight into Victor’s arms. They whirled around the dance floor as if they’d been dancing together for centuries. A Victorian sofa with red tufted velvet sat on the far side of the dance floor. I stepped quietly over to the sofa and sat in the center of it. Victor and Bev were framed by the two story windows, lit by candlelight, and sailed around the ebony dance floor. I was watching a fairy tale.
I didn’t know the song, but the quartet’s playing warmed my very soul. It was almost as if I could cry. Wrensten brought my brandy on a tray, and I took in my hand, swirling it absently as I watched Victor and Bev dance a waltz as if they were performance artists.
For the first time since we left the office, I was in familiar terrain. Bev was always the bold one. Bev always got the man she wanted. I was often left alone, or left picking up men who weren’t my first choice. Watching the athletic stride of Wrensten as he walked away, I realized that tonight might be different, and getting the number two man available was not such a bad thing. Wrensten was actually quite handsome, especially in this candlelight.
I turned my gaze from Wrensten’s back, only to find Victor and Bev right in front of me. Victor was smiling a wicked smile that made my blood churn.
“Dearest Olivia,” Victor said, “I only meant to have Beverly for the first dance. Now, at present, I must dance with you.” He extended a pale hand to me.
Flustered, I looked about for a place to put my brandy snifter, but found none. Good. That was almost an excuse. “I’m afraid I can’t dance well,” I said.
“You don’t have to,” Bev said, her voice a flinty husk. Her cheeks were red, and her eyes burned brightly. Bev took my brandy from my hand with both hands, and holding it like a chalice, she drank from it, as if we were sharing communion. “You’ve never had a dance partner like this before,” Bev said. Out of reasons to object, I stood up.
I don’t know what surprised me more. The fact that Bev pinched my ass, or the fact that I didn’t jump, and felt it was the most natural thing in the world for Bev to be groping me.
I decided to put it down as a dead-even tie. No time to worry about that. Victor Vladstok wanted to dance with me, and when Victor looked at me that way, I was compelled to come to him.
Chapter Three
I couldn’t take my eyes off Victor’s. His irises were gray, like an exotic wolf’s, and the whites of his eyes were the hue of Carrera marble. In the past, whenever I had tried to dance at a wedding or prom, I had two left feet, but not so with Victor. My body followed his, without me ever looking down, and we sailed about the dance floor as if we were the top of a music box—we never made a misstep, and we were always in sync with the music. Victor’s eyes bored into me, as if he were sampling me. I almost became self-conscious, but when he broke out into a wide grin, my heart leapt with joy. If he had been measuring me, he had surely found me worthy, and that gladdened me.
Tossing my head back as Victor spun me about the dance floor, the far off rafters converged on each other like the stones in a kaleidoscope, and the fiery candles of the chandelier coalesced into a flaming circle. When the song ended, we plopped onto the Victorian sofa. The three of us sat there, Victor in the middle.
“You are an amazing dancer!” I cried. The dance had excited me so much that I didn’t even bother to whisper. I always spoke in whispers around men, and I hated that about myself, but now I felt free. The old Sugar Factory was a miracle site, more precious to me than Lourdes, in that it banished my shy awkwardness, if only for a little while.
“A dancer is only as good as his partners. Tonight, we were superb!”
Bev had gotten a fresh snifter of brandy, and it was a giant one. She passed it to me. The glass felt warm and alive in my palms. From the flush in Bev’s cheeks, she’d partaken plenty. I gave her a sidel
ong glance and then took a solid gulp. We were in this together.
“Two such beautiful women, so full of life,” Victor Vladstok said, stretching his arms over both our shoulders. “How have I gotten so fortunate?” he said.
“We are the fortunate ones, Victor,” Bev said.
Feeling bold, I ran my palm along Victor’s leg. “Yes, we are the lucky one’s,” I said.
“So vibrant, you both are,” Victor said. He lunged toward Bev and kissed her firmly. I could hear her struggling to breath after he broke away and turned his attention to me. Victor’s strong arm hauled me close, and my hand slid up his leg, while his lips, which at first were oddly cold, but quickly started to burn hotly, his lips danced with mine, and just as on the dance floor, I followed his lead and did not regret it.
When Victor pulled away, it was my turn to gasp for air.
“Two delicious, gorgeous females,” Victor said. “I just want to eat you up.”
I giggled when Victor squeezed my shoulders. Bev said, “Eat us up all you want, Victor.”
The string quartet played on while the candles burned, and Victor made Bev and I sway with him as we sat on the Victorian sofa. “I shall eat you up,” Victor said. “I certainly shall.” Victor turned his gaze from me to Bev and back again. Our dignified host was growing almost childishly giddy. “But you don’t match,” Victor said.
“I’m sorry,” Bev replied. “Were we supposed to match? Oh!”
I peered over at Bev, and I could see Victor had slid his hand under her arm and was fondling her breast. Taking deep breaths, I tried to contain my excitement, but my hand on his leg gave me away. My fingers traveled rapidly up and down Victor’s inner thigh, stroking him.
Victor’s eyes turned to my chest. “Here,” he said. “You don’t match.” Victor reached over my shoulder and plucked my top button from my blouse, revealing my bosom. I squeezed his leg hard. “There,” he said. “That is better.”
“You like?” I asked.
“Yes, I do,” Victor replied.
“No, wait,” Bev added. She stretched her hand across Victor and undid two more buttons of mine. I started to blush, and my eyes shot to the string quartet, but they played on. The players were blind—it didn’t matter. Bev cupped my breast and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve always loved your boobs,” Bev said. “It’s a sin you hide them like you do.” Bev smiled at me playfully, and I was struck with the sudden need to kiss her.
“I love you,” I said, leaning across Victor to kiss Bev. Her lips were waiting for mine. I liked that.
“Mmm,” Victor said. “So very full of life!” Victor’s powerful arm scooped me up and he laid me across his lap, so that Bev and I fell along the length of the sofa, side my side, my legs across Victor’s lap. “Let me enjoy watching you kiss,” Victor said with a hiss.
Bev’s fingers ran through my hair and she pulled me close. Her lips were hot and moist and smelled of brandy and steak, with a hint of ricotta cheesecake thrown in. My knees rubbed together, bare skin on bare skin, and my whole body turned to her. Part of me wished the string quartet would suddenly get their vision back, and that they could watch us while they played, but another part of me reveled in the deliciousness of them not knowing what we were doing mere yards away.
My knees didn’t rub together for long. Victor’s hand slid between them, and up inside my skirt. Bev’s hand stroked my breast while her kisses ground against my lips with purposeful yet gentle insistence. I was being rubbed and fondled all over. It was like making love to an octopus. Victor’s hand crept up between my thighs, sometimes pinching, sometimes caressing. Bev’s palm rested on my bra-covered nipple while she pawed at me greedily. We were a tangle of bodies on the Victorian sofa, and when I opened my eyes I saw golden candlelight painting Bev’s face, and Victor was smiling so greedily that creases formed in the normally smooth skin around his eyes.
Victor’s hand found my panties, and with a primal grunt Victor tore the crotch open. My panties were left hanging from the elastic, like a garter belt with no hose. “Oh,” I sighed, and Bev’s tongue darted between my open lips. I sucked gently on her, but Bev was hungry and horny, and her tongue ravaged my mouth. Sliding my hand along Bev’s back, I pulled her close and opened my mouth to her.
My mouth wasn’t the only part of me being ravaged. Up my skirt, Victor’s finger slid inside me, and Victor grunted in satisfaction once he discovered how wet I was. The madness of their desire was contagious. I felt more sexual than ever before in my life. My hips bucked as Victor worked a second finger up inside me. His thumb danced across my clit. Just like with his lips, at first his hand was cold, but extended contact with me seemed to warm his flesh, and my flesh warmed in response, and while the string quartet played on, Bev took full command of my mouth and breasts, while Victor exercised complete dominion over my loins.
My body bucked and heaved at their carnal ministrations.
The old Sugar Factory felt as if it were Victor Vladstok’s European castle. Victor was clearly lord of the castle, and in my imagination Bev was his bride. I was their concubine, there to bring them both pleasure, and to let them their way with me. I was good in the role of concubine. They were good in having their way with me.
My body exploded in pleasure, and my loins clamped down on Victor’s fingers. Victor didn’t let that slow him down, and he continued to ravage me. My eyes popped open in wide fear. I’d been with so few men who’d managed to give me orgasms it was sad, but I’d been with no man who didn’t quit after giving me an orgasm. This was a night of uncharted waters for me. I was fearful, for now I had no idea what the future held.
“No,” I whispered, but my whisper only shot into Bev’s mouth. She continued to tongue-rape me. Both her hands were on my head, and Bev clung to me like a life preserver. As her fingers ran through my hair, I could tell my scalp was sweating. “No,” I said softly. “Please. I’m scared.” All my speech was consumed by Bev.
Victor wasn’t scared—not in the least. My thighs pressed together to ward Victor off, but that was to no avail. Soon I was fluttering once more, grabbing at his fingers like they were a lifeline. My thighs spread open for him like the welcoming arms of an army wife.
I was no longer frightened.
Victor could do this to me for an eternity if he wanted.
Chapter Four
We carried our shoes and padded barefoot across the ebony dance floor. The string quartet played on. Wrensten was nowhere in sight. Surely Victor would be calling us a cab. There was no way I had any sexual energy left in me.
His strong arms were draped over our shoulders, and we moved in tandem, as if the three of us were dancing along the polished wood floor. I could see the three quarter moon through the two story windows, its light far greater than the waning candles in the chandelier.
Victor led us down a hall that had slate tiles on the floor. The hard coolness of the tiles was a stark contrast to the ebony wood floor. The wood floor was less hard, and held warmth a bit better. The slate was unforgiving, almost cruel, and it had the warmth of a cadaver. Victor led us to a heavy oak door in the shape of a pointed arch. The door had iron bands securing the wood boards together. It looked like a door to a medieval fortress. As we stood for a moment while Victor found the proper key, I could sense the slate underfoot growing warm from the prolonged touch of my flesh. It reminded me of my effect on Victor’s lips and feet.
Pushing in the heavy door with ease, a room out of the dark recesses of my imagination stood before us. It was Victor’s bedroom. The centerpiece of the room was a massive king-size canopy bed with magenta velvet swags draped over the canopy bars. A backless leather bench sat at the foot of the bed, and opposite the bench was a regal winged back chair. Actually there were two more winged back chairs, matching the first I saw. They were on each side of the bed, positioned to face the bed.
The room had no windows. The only light was from candelabras and wall sconces.
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