The Club

by Salome Fox

  Bellinis appear in our hands and I take a sip—incredible. The peach juice could not be more fresh. It tastes as if the fruit was just plucked this morning from its branch.

  “Thank you, Max. This is lovely.” I gesture both to the room itself and to the drink in my hand.

  “How did you figure it out?” he asks in a low voice. He’s not wearing a suit like last night, but he still looks commanding and handsome. I love the smell of his aftershave, though I don’t plan to tell him so. The scent of him makes me sad we ever got out of bed. No beautiful dining room or fresh peach could ever compete with this man, no matter how succulent.

  I take a moment before answering. Though my heart is already taken with Max, I don’t want to tip my hand. It appears I still have a brain cell or two firing through the fog of lust engulfing me.

  “It’s not important,” I say soothingly.

  Maximilian narrows his eyes, but seems to decide to let it go—for now. He takes a sip of his bellini as a platter of food arrives: eggs benedict and an array of fresh fruit. We both eat hungrily and I’m once again impressed. The meal is delightful. What must it be like, I wonder, to have the best of everything on earth all the time? Do you stop noticing? Does it become boring?

  “Yes,” Max says.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, it becomes boring,” he says, his eyes twinkling.

  I choke on my drink.

  “Did you just read my mind?” I sputter. “I…what...?”

  “Not exactly,” he says. “Are you okay?”

  I cough one more time. “I’m not sure. Was that just a coincidence, or did you really…” I trail off, searching his face for answers.

  “I get flashes,” he says. “I can’t read your mind, or anyone else’s, at will. But I get phrases…especially when they’re questions directed at me. I combine the insights with a read of what someone’s face is doing and what they’re communicating with their body language, and I can often get a full picture of what’s going on in someone’s brain. It’s not that hard.”

  I swallow. “That’s incredible,” I finally say. “You’re a real-life mentalist.”

  “I guess I am. Only instead of solving crimes, I make piles of money. Don’t judge me.” he grins. “You do it, too. Everyone does, to the best of their ability. My ability just happens to be more acute than most.”

  “No wonder you’re so good in bed,” I say. He smiles and finishes the last of our breakfast. I’m too surprised to eat another bite.

  “Come on, let me show you around.” He takes my hand and I let him, just a bit uneasy about this revelation. I’m trying to guard my thoughts somehow, but I get the feeling it’s not working.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “I don’t tune in constantly. It takes a lot of focus. Your secrets are somewhat safe while I give you the tour.”

  I frown as he leads me to a bookshelf near the dining room’s empty bar. I hadn’t noticed it before; the shelf is set into the wall and all the book spines are a uniform shade of brown leather—encyclopedias or yearbooks or some other series. Max touches something on the top shelf and the wall opens up silently. I gasp; it’s like something out of a mystery novel. Max leads me through a series of passageways. I catch glimpses of several interesting-looking rooms in the labyrinth, but we don’t stop until we reach a cave-like space. It’s actually a wine cellar, I see as my eyes adjust. There are tables and chairs, and a long ornate bar. It’s like something out of Belle Époque Paris, only darker and more secretive. Low-hanging chandeliers are filled with slim candles. Every fifth one is lit. Max leads me to an old machine that looks like a phonograph. He turns it on, and the space is filled with sultry music.

  “When you appeared in my club I knew you’d get it,” he says, pulling me to him for a slow dance.

  “Get what?”

  “What I’m trying to do here.”

  As we swayed to the haunting music, I let my senses relax and take everything in—the smells, the beauty, the sound, the wonder of being a place outside of time. Max was definitely interested in money and in sex—but he wanted more. He wanted the best of everything that had ever existed in our universe. He wanted magic, here in his club. I had to admit, I wanted it too. I’d heard of his parties here, of how the guests had to wear masks and speak in whispers. Of how liberties were taken, boundaries crossed. “Magic.”

  “Yes,” he says, and dips me low. “Let me show you the rest.”

  From the Belle Époque wine cave he leads me to a grotto. The rough stone surrounding the hot pool is inlaid with what looks like real diamonds and other jewels. Hidden lights capture their brilliance and the swirling steam, making the whole space look like the inside of a dream.

  “Want to go for a swim?” he asks, proud of his amazing underground creation. He’s so happy to share it with me; I’m curious how many people are allowed to see this maze of wonders.

  “Not many,” he answers.

  “Stop it,” I say.

  He laughs.

  “I want to see more.”

  We continue the tour by stepping into a fast-moving elevator. When the doors open, we enter a room with a glass floor, ceiling and walls. It is a cube suspended high above the city, jutting out from the building that housed Max’s club. I immediately feel a sense of powerful vertigo, but Max steadies me. “Don’t look down,” he whispers in my ear.

  After a moment to get used to it, a large smile spreads across my face. “I like it,” I say.

  “I thought you would. It is, after all, an exhibitionist’s delight, though I’m not sure who can really see us up here.”

  “That’s not why I love it. I bet it’s incredible at night.”

  Max steps to the edge of the glass room, as far from the safety of the solid elevator doors as possible. “Leigh, or whatever your name is, I wasn’t being flippant before. I know that most people take years to decide to wed, but that isn’t necessary in my case. I see you. I see what you are, and I want you. Every day, for the rest of my life. Marry me.”

  “Max—”

  “You think I’m asking just to corrupt your investigation.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not. I don’t give a damn about that. I’ll even stop stealing if that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t know what I want.” That’s a lie. I want him. Inside me, right this second. I bite my lip, knowing Max can read me like a book.

  I’m right. In an instant, he has my sweater off, followed quickly by my heels and slacks. He doesn’t seem to care that anyone with an office on a higher floor could see us, but then again, he’s not the one who is rapidly losing their clothing. All I’m wearing is a tiny black thong and bra.

  “You’re even more gorgeous than I remember,” he says, kissing the back of my neck and cupping my breasts with both his hands. I smile; it’s only been a little over two hours since we were naked together in his bed. I undulate against him, pleased to immediately feel his huge erection pressing against my ass.

  Max unclasps my bra and my tits spring free, immediately puckering at his touch and the cool air of our glass cube above the city. He turns me around and kisses me deeply. I try to pull his sweater off, but he resists. “It’s your show, beautiful,” he says.

  I smile. “Is anyone looking?”

  “There.” He nods his head to a window across the street and one story below us. A young businessman is watching me with an incredulous look in his eyes. Even from this far away, I can see the desire on his face. It turns me on even more.

  “Turn around,” Max commands. “I want you on all fours.”

  I do as he says, facing the businessman below us and using my sweater to cushion my knees. I arch my back to better show off my tits and ass, and spread my legs, hoping Max takes me immediately. I’m so hot for him my pussy is wet and begging.

  But even if Max can read my mind, he’s not giving me what I want right away. Instead, I feel his tongue laving my intimate lips from behind, spearing my bud and making me moan. I lo
ve the insistence of his tongue, of the thought of the image we’re making, my pussy splayed open to Max’s tongue, my inner folds glistening on the edge of the sky.

  I make eye contact with my admirer as Max does his work, and I can’t believe how perfect it all is. This has been my fantasy for years and it’s finally coming true. The businessman disappears from the window for an instant—presumably to lock his door, and returns with his cock in his hand. I nod, encouraging him, as he strokes himself to the sight of me above him, about to get the fucking of my life.

  But Max still won’t give me what I want. He keeps teasing me with his tongue, lightly running it up and down my folds.

  When he circles my anus with his tongue, kissing my most intimate of spots like it’s my mouth, I cry out, loving the sensation. I can’t wait for him to fill me with himself, to pound me. My cunt is aching. I want to be taken.

  My watcher is getting very close. I can see him speed up his stroking. His cock looks like it’s being punished.

  “Don’t come until I’m inside you,” Max demands. Then his tongue is back on my hole and I’m so close it’s like torture. I hold off my orgasm.

  “Please, Max. Fuck me. Please. Now.”

  “I like hearing you beg, naughty girl. Keep going.”

  His tongue is replaced with his fingers, one in my ass and two in my cunt. It feels good, but it’s not nearly the same as his huge cock.

  “Please. Fuck me.” I repeat it in a refrain. The watcher finishes but gets hard again. His eyes are riveted on us.

  “I don’t know if I will,” Max says playfully. I can hear the smile in his voice.

  “Please.”

  “Get up. Press your hands against the glass. Keep your legs spread for me.”

  I do as he says, a thrill going through me. I tilt my ass up helpfully, ready for him. Finally, finally, I feel the tip of Max’s hard cock press into my pussy. He just inserts the head and I moan. “More,” I beg.

  “What?”

  “More! I want more,” I gasp, trying to push back into him, to take him inside me.

  He gives me another inch and I’m trembling. I want a fast fucking. I’m going out of my mind.

  Slowly, slowly, Max gives me want I want. His cock finally fills me up and I relax, the ache in my cunt for him starting to subside. He fucks me powerfully, deliberately, deeply. Each thrust makes me scream and ask for more. The watcher is stroking himself again, just as turned on by my body and my lust as he is by Max’s masterful stroking. Each time his cock fucks me, I edge closer and closer to oblivion. I feel like I am outside of reality, like I’m in carnal heaven, high above the earth, receiving want I need and giving everything I’ve got in return.

  My orgasm overtakes me and my cunt pulses around Max’s manhood. He roars in satisfaction as I quiver powerfully around him. He reaches his edge as well, and I feel his cum fill me up. I can smell us, the sweet sexy scent of our juices mingling inside me and spilling out.

  We finish, spent, and lie back, looking directly up at the clouds.

  There’s nothing else to say. I don’t care if Maximilian Gregory is a criminal or worse. I’m going to take my chances and enter his labyrinth, come what may.

  “Yes,” I breathe. “I will marry you.”

  THE END

  Continue reading about Leigh and Max in The Billionaire’s Club Part 2, coming soon.

  Image credit: moori / 123RF Stock Photo