"Let it be a dream. Please let it be all just a bad dream."
It's not a dream.
I'd texted Marcel to meet me at the office, not trusting myself to speak and drive, or speak, or drive.
But I managed it.
I drove without killing myself, which might just have been a mercy in this situation.
I trudged my way inside my office to find Marcel already waiting for me there.
"Shit, Theo, what happened to you?"
"I just found out my wife used to be a prostitute, is currently a drug addict, and has a collection of weapons to rival a military base. Does that cover it?" I give a sad smile, and I plop myself into the chair.
"Wait a minute... prostitute?"
"As you heard. A prostitute I fucked, too, years before I met Bianca." He stares at me before bringing his hand to his chin, stroking pensively.
"Do you think there's a connection?"
"Hell if I know. But doesn't it seem like a perfect coincidence? More than anything, I realize what a fool I've been. God, how many lies? I don't even know her…"
"Theo, calm down..."
"How? How can I calm down when I find out my wife is not remotely who I thought she was? Pink... the prostitute, was the exact opposite of Bianca. God! I really thought she was this soft-spoken, shy girl, struggling under her father's thumb, waiting for me to save her... That sounds so fucked now that I say it out loud, but she played me. She played me so well, knowing exactly what to do to get under my skin. She only showed me what I wanted to see. I wanted her to be helpless. I wanted her to be innocent... " My hand goes to my face, and I try to massage my temples. There's a throbbing in my head that only seems to intensify. "Who is she?" I whisper.
"Are you going to confront her?"
"I don't know... I don't think I'm capable of anything right now." I think for a moment and realize I need to know more about Pink. Why? Maybe to torture myself even more.
"I'm going to give you some time. This isn't easy to accept." Marcel says and, at some point, leaves the office. I don't actually pay attention. I might have nodded at him...
An image springs into my mind.
"Bianca Ashby, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" I was on one knee, both my hands holding the ring box in front of a stunned Bianca. She'd looked extraordinary that night. Her long black hair had gleamed in the moonlight. Her eyes had sparkled with warmth and love and everything I'd ever wanted.
"Yes! Yes!" She'd cried. "A thousand times, yes!" That was the night she'd become mine.
But it had all been a lie. A terrible bitterness assaults me as I realize she'd never actually been mine.
I still could not wrap my head around why she did it. Why she went to this extent to live a double life. Was I just a smokescreen for her activities? Had she seen me as an easy target? She'd certainly known my weaknesses and had manipulated me to fall for her. Was anything that came out of her mouth real?
So many questions, and for a time, I allowed myself to be overcome by grief.
The Bianca I loved just didn't exist.
Sometime later, I manage to pull myself together long enough to approach this more calmly. One look out the window tells me it’s already night—just the perfect time for what I have in mind. I know I need answers from one more place before I confront her.
I put my blazer on, and I stride from my workplace, heading determinedly to my car - my destination club Palace.
Taking my phone out, I hesitate before sending Bianca a short text that I'd be working late. At this point, I don't even know what she might be capable of.
I get to the club, and it doesn't take long for the bouncer to check my name against their customer list. For a strip club, Palace is incredibly anal about its privacy, probably because so many important people in high positions are customers. Another reason might be the fact that the upstairs rooms function as boudoirs for those seeking a little extra.
Once inside, I figure my best chances at finding some answers are by asking the manager and maybe talking to some of the girls.
It’s not easy to find my way to the manager's office, and indeed, it’s not easy to convince him that I’m not some psycho obsessed with one of their girls. I actually have to show him my credentials for him to give me a chance.
"Pink, you say?" He purses his lips.
"Yes, around five years ago," I add, not entirely sure when she stopped working here.
Or if... but that wasn't something I was ready to consider just yet.
"I think I may remember whom you're talking about. But only because she was very odd."
"Odd? What do you mean?"
"She was always by herself, never interacting with any of the other girls. Didn't really care about tips or other opportunities. In this business, that's very odd. If my memory serves right, one day, she just disappeared. Stopped coming altogether."
"And do you remember when that was?"
"Not sure, but it was a long time ago."
"Thank you. Are there any girls that were here at the same time as her?"
"Let me see..." He goes to his computer, probably checking his employee charts.
"Yes, there is one. Anais. She's actually working tonight." Before I leave, I get a description of the girl and her dancing schedule and head towards the main stage of the club. Taking a seat, I now wait for the show.
Halfway through the set and three girls left until Anais, I am bored out of my mind. I keep checking my watch, and the time seems to move even slower than before. I almost groan in frustration.
I raise my head and scan the club, my eyes zeroing in on pink hair. I blink twice, clearly not seeing right, and it disappears.
Of course, at this point, I'm probably hallucinating. I'm clearly running on borrowed energy. One just needs to make a list of everything that I found out in one week, my attempted assassination notwithstanding, to conclude I am owed a respite.
I settle a little more comfortably into my seat.
Out of nowhere, I feel a hand on my shoulder from behind and hot breath in my ear.
"Long time no see, handsome." My head almost snaps at that sound. Surely no? I take a deep breath and turn around. Surely yes.
Pink, in all her glory, fishnets included.
I struggle to keep a straight face.
"Pink!" I will myself to exclaim, surprised, but glad to see her. Inside my head, questions pile on top of questions. Does she know I know? What is she doing here? Fuck... Fuck...
She drapes herself on top of me without any preliminaries, her ass digging purposefully into my crotch. The proximity allows me to take a good look at my deceiver.
Her pink hair is styled as it's always been—short bob with bangs. The difference in makeup, the green contacts, and the fake beauty mark on top of her upper lip make her unrecognizable.
At least I wasn't that stupid. I reluctantly tell myself.
Her face contouring is harsh, making her naturally soft face all angles. No way I would have ever considered Pink to be Bianca if proof of it hadn't stared me right into the eyes.
"You still work here?" I make my best attempt at conversation. Even her voice sounds huskier than usual, or maybe it's the acoustic in the club.
"Of course." She lies and smiles seductively, her hands roving about my body. What is her game?
"Tired of that girl of yours? She asks with a pout, and it takes all my willpower to control my expression. She's got to be the ultimate liar. There's absolutely no tell, no trace of guilt even. It's then that I decide to turn the tables on her. Maybe it's petty revenge, but she brought it on herself.
"She's... bland," I reply, my fingers teasing her jaw before jerking her closer. My mouth is now maybe one inch away from hers.
"Want me to make it better?" She licks her lips. I immediately capture her tongue in my mouth, sucking on it. Her hands wrap around my neck, and I bring her closer to my body, my mouth devouring her in a punishing manner.
"Upstairs!" I say, and she slowly nods, probably still
dazed from the kiss.
I grab her hand and all but drag her upstairs, where an attendee asks us what we are in the mood for.
"Torture chamber," I say, knowing that is the one place I hadn't gone to with Pink in the past. While our encounters had been wild, rough, and sensual, we'd never ventured into more dangerous territory. Honestly, I'd never thought something would ever crack my carefully built control, but Bianca is awfully close to unleashing a storm. There’s a reason I always held back...
But somehow, I know my little deceiver could take it.
"Hmm... feeling frisky?" She purrs on my arm as I lead her towards the room.
"You have no idea, babe.”
CHAPTER XXI
I was chilling at home when I received a message from an old contact that my husband was asking questions at the Palace. At first, I'd been stunned, my mind wondering why he was there.
Does he suspect anything?
Why would he go back there?
Initially, I’d convinced myself to go there as Pink to investigate the circumstances, and should the situation require, alleviate any concerns regarding Pink's identity.
I’d even taken more care than usual with my get-up, wanting to look as different from Bianca as possible.
There’s no way he knows… I kept telling myself.
But as I got to the club and saw him looking all manly and delicious, I couldn’t not take advantage of the situation and pretend to be Pink for a little longer…
Maybe he’d even punish me for being a naughty girl.
And now?
Now Theo’s taking me to the torture chamber - so-called because of its myriad of toys and props.
I'd seen it before. I'd longed for Theo to take me there. But he never had.
Until now, that is.
Maybe I should be worried he is willing to sleep with another woman. But considering that the woman in question is me, the implications just don’t hit me as they should.
I’m simply happy to be here. Maybe too happy.
And he is going to fuck me. Not make love. Fuck! And I can bet it’s going to be dirty as hell.
We enter the room, and I giggle at the sight of the interior, imagining Theo doing wicked things to me in all those scenarios.
There are benches and chairs made to maximize both pain and pleasure. There is a cross in the form of an X at the back of the wall, while in the middle of the room, like a low chandelier, there is a suspension bar. Both sides of the room are fitted with different instruments to inflict pain - crops, whips, bars, and others that I can't even name. A shiver of anticipation runs through me.
"What are the limits for today?" He asks, his fingers caressing the nape of my neck and making me shiver.
"None." I can feel him smirking against my skin, his lips skimming the sensitive spot just below my ear.
"Remember your safe word?"
"Hmm?" I whimper, already a slave to the sensations he’s wringing from my body.
"Safe word?" He asks again.
"Yes...Lemon."
"Good." He whispers, and he turns me to face him.
"Strip down and get on your knees." His entire manner changes, his voice unyielding and commanding.
This is the Theo I like to fuck.
"Yes, sir." I quickly undress and take off my shoes, remaining only in my fishnets. I'd come braless, and the sight of Theo eyeing my erect nipples tells me it was the perfect decision.
I quickly kneel down in front of him, waiting for further instruction.
"Eyes on me, little girl." He says, and with two fingers, he tips my jaw, so I'm looking straight into his eyes.
"Take my cock out and put it into your mouth." His smooth voice leaved me breathless. I can only do as commanded.
My hands go to his office pants, and I lower the zipper, pulling down just enough to take his straining length out. I give it one light stroke, before bending forward and taking the tip into my mouth, my tongue gently swiping across the underside. I give a few licks to the head before heading lower on the shaft and sucking his balls deep into my mouth. A hissing sound escapes him, and I take it as encouragement to continue my ministrations. I'm sucking on the head when he suddenly commands me to stay still.
His hands go into my hair (and I'm thankful I fully secured my wig in place) before taking control and fucking my mouth. In and out, his movements are aggressive yet controlled. I gag when the tip hits the roof of my mouth and spit pours down my chin, and it seems to make him even more demanding. My eyes are tearing up from the pressure. His grip tightens on my scalp, and I know he is close. With a low groan, he empties himself down my throat.
"Swallow." I do, looking up at him as I lick the remains of his cum from around my mouth.
"Good girl." His thumb caresses my cheek in appreciation.
"Now, to the bar."
I get up on shaky legs and head to the suspension bar. He cages me on both sides, locking my wrists into place and leaving me exposed. I'm already achingly wet, but I know my relief will be a torturous bliss.
He steps away from me, admiring me. Slowly, he divests himself of his own clothing, his shirt, and then his pants and underwear. He is indeed a spectacular specimen. His broad shoulders are complimented by toned arms and a defined stomach. My eyes take him in, how the V of his pelvis leads to his magnificent cock, jutting proudly and erect once more. His movements are unhurried, almost leisurely.
Naked, he strides to one of the tables, taking a few items. Coming to stand in front of me, he looks me in the eyes for a second before his mouth is on me. His tongue clashes with mine in an open kiss that has me tugging at my restraints, wanting to weave my hands into his hair. His teeth nibble at my bottom lip before he puts enough space between us to tie a blindfold over my eyes.
"Good girl." He praises me.
Deprived of my sight, I try to focus on his touch. He trails what feels like a feather from my neck down my torso, giving special attention to my nipples.
They tighten in response, and a moan escapes my lips.
"Tsk, Tsk. We can't have that." He says before bringing over a gag and placing it in my mouth.
"You're much prettier when you're quiet." He whispers in my ear before a sharp sensation assails me in one nipple and then in the other. A cold metal chain brushes against my belly and I realize he used nipple clamps.
"Are you wet for me, little girl?" His voice is almost hypnotic, and I just nod, feeling my panties soaked. I expect him to check for himself, but he doesn't. Instead, he takes a few steps back and stops.
I wait.
He's clearly using this to his advantage, screwing with both my mind and my senses. My impatience is getting the best of me, and I squirm within the confines of my cuffs.
It's then when I feel a stinging pain on my ass. A muted sound comes out of my mouth, blocked by the gag.
Theo grasps my fishnets from behind with both hands and tears them in one motion, my panties going quickly after. Cold air meets my bare bottom for the first time, but he doesn't waste any second flaying me over with the crop once more.
The immediate pain makes me yank my chain forward, but the afterburn is deliciously addictive. I push my ass up into him, signaling my approval, and he hits me again. And again. If I was soaked before, now my pussy’s flooding my thighs with my juices.
Suddenly, the spanking stops, and I feel his fingers glide over my abused bottom, slowly massaging the flesh. One hand sneaks between my cheeks, encountering my wetness and spreading it around.
"You want my cock, little girl, don't you? Your pussy is begging me to fill it up." He whispers in my ear, and his words only serve to make me more aroused. With one last slap on my ass, he moves away from me, his absence immediately a source of frustration.
I want to protest it somehow through my body language, but before I get the chance, Theo lifts me up, his hands on my butt, placing my legs on each shoulder, his face inches away from my core.
He blows a few times, the warm air of his breath
caressing my slit. With one long lick, he dives in, sucking my clit and making me thrash in his hold. Every touch of his tongue sends me on the brink of the abyss, each time a little bit deeper.
Until I fall.
My throat contracts, trying to make the sounds that describe the myriad of feelings pooling in my pussy. And Theo doesn’t stop. He laps and laps until he wrings a second orgasm from me. He stills for a second, before biting down on my clit while at the same time yanking on the chain holding my nipple clamps together. The combined pain wrecks my body as it mingles with my last orgasm's aftershocks and makes me climax again.
I am panting. As much as I can, considering the gag.
Theo slowly puts me down and then proceeds to remove the blindfold, the gag, before finally opening up my wrist cuffs.
I am so spent that I melt to the floor, but Theo has other plans.
One hand is suddenly at my throat, and he lifts me up until I am lined up with the wall. His other hand comes up to my face, tracing the sweat dripping down my face before offering his fingers for me to suck.
"Giving up?" He asks, and I shake my head.
"What, I didn't hear?" The hand at my throat tightens, restricting my airflow just enough to make my voice sound horse as I answer.
"No, sir."
"Good girl." He gives me half a smile before his face changes again.
"Hands and knees. Now."
I Immediately comply, stumbling on my hands and knees. Theo comes behind me, and I feel his hands kneading my ass cheeks. He guides the head of his cock and lines it against my entrance but doesn't push in. He glides it against my juices and my battered clit, and it elicits a loud moan from me, half pleasure, half pain.
He finally slips the tip in, just barely, and my channel immediately contracts. I don't even stop to wonder why he's not using a condom, as he'd always used before with Pink. He slams into me in one mighty thrust that triggers my orgasm, my walls tightening around him. The only sound indicating his pleasure is his harsh breathing.
He thrusts into me a few more times before pulling out. I whimper at the sudden loss, but from the corner of my eye, I see him take a bottle of lube from the table. Coming behind me again, he lathers the liquid all over my butt, slowly massaging it towards my hole. His thumb slips inside at the same time that his cock enters my pussy again. He strokes me deeply, his finger increasing the pressure until suddenly his cock is out of my wet heat and pushing against my hole.
Morally Corrupt: A Dark Romance (Morally Questionable Book 1) Page 13