Oh, she’d give him a show, all right. If he asked. “And what would you like to watch?” She’d let him hear the sexual innuendo this time.
He sat back. “The history channel has a great documentary on World War II.”
Bastard. Waiting for the next invitation was killing her. Her skin felt tightly stretched over her bones.
“You’re distracted tonight. I’ll do the dishes while you go upstairs and take a bath. Then we’ll watch the show. Okay?”
“You’re too good to me.” She smiled sweetly when what she wanted was for him to beg to join her in the bath where his soapy fingers could caress her overheated clitoris or aim the detachable showerhead right on her pussy.
“Off you go, then.” He started gathering dirty plates.
Brett had offered to hire a cook and a full-time maid. Maybe later she’d like that, but for the time being, she wanted them to settle into their married routine. Besides, she enjoyed cooking for him when they were at home for dinner. She was, however, not stupid enough to let him get rid of the housecleaner they had come in twice a week.
“Don’t put the scraps down the garbage disposal. It gets clogged.”
He eyed her. “I’m forty-three, Virginia. I know how to do everything exactly the way a woman wants it done.”
She bit her lip. It wasn’t her dishes she wanted doing. But if she asked for it, that would spoil everything for her. Brett had to be dying to do it, or it just wasn’t enough. Which was the whole problem they had in the bedroom.
Since when had she started thinking their bedroom activity was a problem? What had Stacy said? Six months, a year from now, you’re going to start wanting more. Virginia hadn’t even lasted a month.
She left Brett to the dirty dishes. A bath, an intimate massage, a little release of tension, just a small orgasm. If he walked in on her, maybe that would set the wild man free...
A blue chiffon outfit was laid out on the bed, a small beaded purse attached to the belt. A pair of matching high-heeled pumps sat on the carpet. Over the heart of the dress lay a cream-colored envelope and a single strand of pearls.
He knew she didn’t like gifts, but in some odd way, the pearls were part of the night, part of the seduction. Beside the dress, she found a note scribbled with his familiar writing.
“Just the dress, the pearls, and the shoes, nothing else.”
Her hands started to tremble, and her heart beat so fast it drowned out the sound of running water down in the kitchen.
Finally. Thank God.
* * * * *
He wanted her crazy. So hot, wet, and needy that she’d do anything he told her to. Beg, suck, scream, everything.
In three weeks, Brett had fallen in love with the comfort and serenity Virginia brought to his life. It was more than pleasant to come home to a woman who wasn’t alternately a raging lunatic, a tearful mess, or filled with manic happiness before the inevitable crash. Virginia gave his life gentle stability. He found himself telling her about his business day and thereby easing some of his pressures. She was the perfect hostess, the perfect decoration on his arm, the perfect companion for sitting in front of the TV or reading. Virginia was the perfect wife.
Yet when he made love with her, it felt like she was simply expecting...more. More what? He’d told her they would have a separate, exciting life at the club, but that didn’t preclude hot sex in the privacy of their own home. He was a man who prided himself on always being able to predict exactly what his customers needed and supplying it to them in a mutually agreeable deal. Virginia, though, continued to baffle him in the bedroom.
They’d had an extremely busy schedule since the wedding, his suppliers and customers clamoring to meet the new Mrs. Branoff. He’d wanted to show her off as the jewel she was. But he’d been compelled to fit in a Sex Club tryst tonight. Whatever it was Virginia needed to let herself loose, she’d found it in the decadence of The Sex Club.
There, he would touch her, taste her, savor her, and make them both come so hard, it would turn their sex life inside out.
* * * * *
As before, Virginia was handed an envelope containing instructions when she turned over her invitation to the club’s hostess. She shivered, wondering what Brett had planned for her, but she climbed to the second floor before opening it. People jostled her, someone offered a bowl of condoms, and the scent of sex wafted on the air.
The mirror at the top of the stairs reflected the blue chiffon. The pearls at her throat glimmered in the flickering light of the wall sconces. She’d piled her hair up in a neat twist, and her lips were a modest shade of pink. She looked like a prissy society matron. Except for the spaghetti strap that had fallen off one shoulder. That one detail said it all. She was a woman, neat on the outside and melted chocolate on the inside. Virginia ripped open the envelope.
“Visit three rooms of your choice. I’ll be watching you.”
Was she to indulge herself in the three rooms? With another man? By herself? Would she find him in one of those rooms doing another woman? A sick feeling swept through her midriff. Not even a month ago, she’d told herself she wouldn’t let the notion bother her. Now, she prayed that wasn’t what he’d planned for their evening. No, he wouldn’t do that. Visiting the rooms was part of the game, the titillation. Brett wanted her to watch other people, wanted her achingly hot and bothered by the time he revealed himself. She wouldn’t allow her thoughts to get in the way of their mutual pleasure.
She tucked the note into the beaded purse at her waist. He had thought of everything, even a place to stash her license and car key. Three rooms to visit. Then he was hers.
She turned left down the hall, strolling past the orgy room. Been there, seen that. Because she couldn’t go around, she stepped over the feet of a woman on her knees performing oral sex in the middle of the hallway. The man’s groans filled the air, and Virginia’s chiffon suddenly felt scratchy, rubbing her nipples to peaks and making her feel...hot and bothered.
Something ahead tooted, like a train whistle. The Train Depot. She dodged a couple making out, her skirt brushing the male backside. She was sure he liked it, the faint touch of strangers passing by, the electricity pulsing around them, the knowledge that everyone could see his tongue down his partner’s throat and her hand in the open zipper of his pants.
The train whistled at Virginia once more, and she glanced through a gap in the onlookers. Inside, only two walls were mirrored and half the ceiling. A plywood mock-up of a train depot filled an entire wall, complete with painted figures dressed in Victorian clothing. She found herself sucked inside the room by the press of bodies. An oral train was taking off just as she was pressed onto the makeshift depot platform. Naked bodies squirmed on the floor. A woman on her back, a man on elbows and knees, his face buried in her pussy, his legs splayed over another woman as she sucked his cock, and between her thighs, a female head bobbing. On and on it went in a human train pulling ten cars. Bright clothing, naked flesh, private parts exposed.
Virginia plastered herself to the painted wall. The room was close and filled with the aroma of come and arousal, but what set her skin humming was that within all the scents, she smelled him, Brett, musky, hot, salty. Like the taste of his come on her tongue. She couldn’t see him, yet she knew he was watching her.
In front of the mirror, another train started, this one with full penetration. It gathered speed with gusto, a cock in a vagina, a woman with a dildo strapped to her waist impaling the man in front of her. It was fascinating in a horrifying way.
A beckoning hand emerged from the oral train. God only knew who it belonged to in the mass of writhing bodies. Virginia plunged for the door. While she was moist from the underside of her breasts to between her legs, she didn’t do trains.
In the hallway, she caught her breath. The crowd grew thinner the farther into the depths of the huge mansion she went, as if the guests got mired in the first rooms they came to. She wondered if peeking into a room counted as one of the three she was sup
posed to visit. She opened a closed door—no one said closed doors were taboo—saw all men. Yes, the peek counted. Air wafted over her as she shut the door, and with it came Brett’s unique scent again, brushing the back of her neck. He was there behind her. Following. Dogging her every step.
And she remembered the night of her bachelorette party. Brett hadn’t just been at The Sex Club that night, he’d followed her from room to room. He was the man she’d sensed behind her. That night, she’d performed for him. Why she hadn’t realized it before, she couldn’t say. Maybe she’d been afraid to contemplate the consequences.
Just as she hadn’t turned to find her watcher that night, Virginia didn’t turn now. Titillation wasn’t in The Train Depot. It was behind her in the man who stalked her. It was in the scent of sex that shuddered from his pores. That was the moment her body came fully to life, the moment her nipples ached for his mouth, her clitoris throbbed for the rough swipe of his tongue, and her core dripped for his possession.
One more room to visit, and he was hers to do with as she wished. Virginia turned abruptly into the next door she came to. No one clogged the entry, and at first it appeared to be nothing more than a workout room. Then she saw the workout they were giving each other. One man, one woman. She was spread above his face, clutching the bar above her for support. He lay on his back on a bench. The weights lay immobile as he gripped her buttocks and held her to his mouth.
Her legs trembling, Virginia closed her eyes and imagined imitating the position with Brett. She could almost feel his tongue enter her, the lap and suck of his mouth, the clench of her thigh muscles as she steadied herself for his intimate foray. She clung to the wall to hold herself upright, the woman’s keening wails echoing in the room.
Her hand restlessly stroked her abdomen, the need to lift her skirt and caress herself humming through her blood. This was what Brett wanted, her need so unbearable that she’d do anything. The best, however, was yet to come. When Brett finally revealed himself in the throng of strangers.
She stumbled from the room, her eyes darting through the guests heading her way. People were moving on, looking for new excitement. When would Brett come to her and extinguish the fire burning in her? Her mind spilled over with the image of him shoving her dress to her waist and taking her in the middle of the hallway with the crowd all around them. She wanted it, badly. Her feet were unsteady in the high heels. Her legs didn’t seem to work the way she wanted them to, and her vision blurred around the fringes.
Someone bumped her, and she fell against the wall, bringing her hand up to the hardwood paneling to catch herself. She was at the edge of an alcove, and for a moment she thought about ducking in just to catch her breath.
Through a gap in the alcove’s curtain, she saw a couple kissing as if they were the only two people in the world. He cupped her face with a sort of worship, his knees dipping as he took her mouth. The woman’s black jacket and camel-colored skirt were circumspect enough for work, yet the scene was anything but. His hands slid down to lift the hem. When he finally touched her between her legs, she moaned, deeply, overcome.
“Christ, I want you so goddamn much.”
Right next to the alcove, Virginia heard more than desire in his voice, more than need for a mere physical joining. She heard his soul in his words.
He lifted the woman and pulled her legs to his waist. Bracing her against the wall, he entered her with a reverent thrust Virginia felt all the way to her womb.
Virginia wanted that feeling, that emotion, a man that needed her that badly. She wanted Brett to need her that badly. With the sliver of light through the curtain, she couldn’t see the woman’s face, only the man’s, filled with something so profound it could only be called love, making the tableau all the more potent. For a moment she was that woman and the recipient of all his desire. His words flowed over her, inside her, took her as he took his lover, over and over.
“God, I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you.”
After the purely sexual heat in the workout room, those beautiful words were her undoing. Virginia leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes, and pressed her thighs together as an orgasm rolled over her and dragged her under.
* * * * *
Brett watched as Virginia came without a touch. It was the most humbling sight he’d ever experienced. He hadn’t caused it, wasn’t a part of it. Yet he exulted in having found a woman so passionate that her body could take over her mind so completely.
He’d never wanted a woman so badly in his life. Every room she visited, each expression on her face, the subtle, tantalizing changes in her scent and her body, all had driven him higher. His cock pounded as if it were an entity all on its own. Demanding. Compelling. Unstoppable.
What had she felt as she watched the couple behind the curtain? He sensed it was far more than a sex act for her, yet he didn’t comprehend the more of it. He’d thought she needed witnesses to her feminine power, but this was something else entirely. He vowed he would figure it out. That’s what this night was all about. Discovering what made Virginia come undone.
Ten feet and a gaggle of guests separated them. Even as he watched, a man approached her. Brett growled low in his throat. Without feeling his feet move, he grabbed the guy’s hand just as it reached for Virginia’s tight nipple.
“She’s mine.”
“Sorry, old boy. Thought she was a free agent.” The man, somewhere in his midthirties, looked pointedly at Brett’s white knuckles around his hand. Brett dropped it as if it were a searing ember. He realized with a little extra pressure, his grip would break bones.
Virginia finally opened her eyes just as her wannabe partner backed away, keeping a wary gaze on Brett.
“Brett?” She blinked twice as if to regain her faculties.
“He was going to touch you without your permission.” Yeah, that was his mission, to make sure she was touched only when she wanted to be.
He wanted her now, like this, still dazed from what she’d seen, her body in control rather than her mind. Her pupils were dilated while her lids were slumberous. He wanted to put his lips to the flushed skin of her shoulders, drag her bodice down to give her nipples up to his touch. He wanted to drive his cock so far up inside her that she came with the first thrust.
“Do I have your permission?” He held out his hand, waiting.
She trustingly put her hand in his. “Yes.”
He needed no more encouragement. He pulled her flush up against his side and wrapped her beneath his arm. She stumbled, he held tight. At the next alcove, he swept aside the curtain. A woman squeaked. Stifling his irritation, he shrugged his shoulders in apology.
He led Virginia to another recess. This time he only moved aside a corner. Occupied. Again. He checked two more curtains.
Need boiled over. “I can’t find an empty one, dammit.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Virginia soothed.
“It goddamn matters.” He realized how out of control he sounded, like a wild man, and he didn’t care. “The next one, don’t worry.”
At the far end of the hall, he found what he wanted and dragged Virginia inside, yanking the curtain closed behind them. Bending his knees, he skimmed both hands beneath her skirt, slid two fingers inside her with unerring accuracy, then buried his face at her throat. Breathing her in, deeply, he savored the feel of her pussy even as a spurt of frustration burrowed beneath his ribs at the fact that he wasn’t the one who’d made her wet.
He pushed her against the paneling. “Do you know how badly I want you?”
He felt her shake her head.
Though still working her beneath the dress, he pulled back. “I could have—” He stopped. He could have what? Killed the guy for touching her? It was extreme, but that’s exactly what he wanted to give Virginia. Extreme emotion, a fantasy to fuel their pleasure. “I could have killed him.”
Her body soaked his fingers, and her muscles did a rhythmic give and take around them. The musky scent of desire permeated
the small alcove. His cock and balls screamed in response.
She leaned in to stroke her tongue over his bottom lip, and he knew he’d said exactly the right thing. Yet the kiss was too gentle, too sweet, when what he needed was to pound her into the wall and consume her totally.
He pulled in a long breath of air, clearing his head, then gradually withdrew from her pussy. He wanted this coupling to be more than a rutting, but he feared he was past that point.
“I’m going to fuck the hell out of you, Virginia.”
She cupped his cheeks. “I’d like that.”
Like? He’d make sure she more than liked it. He pulled her flush against him. “Tell me to fuck you hard. Beg me.” He wanted her need to match his.
“Please, Brett, now.” Her voice shuddered through a deep breath that set his balls on fire. “I can’t wait.”
And he lost any modicum of control he had. He didn’t recall each separate action, only that finally, finally, her legs were around his waist, and his cock was deep and high. He wanted her so damn badly, his legs trembled and his hands shook.
And yet it wasn’t enough. “More. Take me. All of me. Fuck me out of my mind.”
Her arms around his neck, she took him, engulfed him, owned him, whispering, urging him to harder thrusts, faster plunges until he could think only of staying inside her forever. She contracted around him, squeezed, and cried out her pleasure. Pure sensation rocketed from his balls to his cock, stretching out to his limbs and springing back as he exploded within her.
He lost his mind to her, and instead of consuming Virginia with his fire, she consumed him.
Chapter Six
Virginia had fallen completely into the fantasy her husband created. He’d taken her with fierce desire, then left her, only moments before, with a tender kiss. Her mind and body still reeled under the impact. Brett made her feel as special as that woman in the alcove. He’d touched her with a trembling need that made her come with mind-altering power.
Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2 Page 6