It didn’t take him long to catch the eye of a woman with a sly smile. Lifting his glass to salute her, he took another slow sip. Drawing women in was never an issue; Xavier had all the patience in the world when it came to the chase. After all, why rush it? Why ruin the thrill? The build-up, the flirty looks, and small smiles were all part of the foreplay. And when he owned them, body and soul, it made everything all the sweeter. This one had big brown eyes, like a puppy, but that’s where her innocence ended. With curves that reminded him of his Ferrari, the red hue of her lips promised the same thrill he got when he was behind the wheel.
Stopping a young server, he popped a canape into his mouth, eyes never leaving the woman from across the room. Her gold sequin dress clung to her like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as she shimmered with every move. She was like a dessert for the eyes, mouth-watering and dying to be consumed. She gave him another smile before she turned and struck up a conversation with a woman to her left. She was pretty, but her face had that slick shiny plastic sheen to it that Xavier hated. Her breasts were too perky, too perfect, and Xavier was willing to bet his entire fortune that they weren’t the ones God had gifted her with, more like her Amex or whichever old dick was fucking her plastic pussy. No, his golden goddess was the target this evening, everyone else was a waste of his time.
He shook hands with more stiffs in suits, mostly old lecherous bankers and lawyers. Why was he here again? His face started to hurt as he smiled at glamorous, silicone-filled women and pretended that their dull lives interested him. Although he looked absorbed in mindless chatter to an outsider, his eyes were on the woman in gold. She was his prey, and there was never any escaping Xavier Rossi.
It took an hour for her to make her way to him. Longer than he thought, but the hunter never rushed the hunt. He could wait all night if he needed to, but they always wound up coming to him eventually.
“Mr. Rossi,” she said with a small tilt of her head. Good, she knew who he was, she had done a little reconnaissance as she’d worked the room. He hated having to explain his fortune, what he did for a living, and his net worth — he wasn’t looking for a wife, he was looking for a warm body to share Halloween with. Someone who didn’t scare easily.
“Sarah McDonald,” she practically purred as she looked him up and down, clearly liking what she saw. Her chocolate brown hair was curled over one shoulder, giving her this mermaid vibe that made his heart beat just a little faster, like she was luring him in.
Taking her hand in his, he gently kissed her fingertips, relishing in the way it made her shiver.
“You want to go somewhere quieter?” She licked her lips before leading him through the crowd and to an office tucked in the back of the building.
Arching a brow at her, he looked around the small room.
“Do you work here?”
She moved to lean against the edge of the desk. “I’m a curator here…”
“Hmmmm.” He took a step towards her, his hand cupping her face before his lips crashed against hers. He wasn’t one for small talk, but she’d asked about him, so no doubt she knew that. He was famous for being the strong, rich, and silent type. You could never incriminate yourself if you hardly ever spoke.
Sliding his hands up her thighs as she batted her eyelashes, Xavier mused over how she was gorgeous, and she knew it. Women like that were dangerous — intoxicating. They lured men in like sirens, with promises of filthy sex all in a smile, but before you knew it, you were drowning in the ocean. That’s what excited him, drew him in — the challenge. Hundreds of women had tried to capsize his boat and only one had ever succeeded. Eliza, she was the first of many. But she was the first real love, the first to fall victim to his...particular tastes. They say the first always holds a special place in your heart, and for Xavier, that was true. Half closing his eyes, he kissed the stranger’s neck, but he could still see Eliza as if it was yesterday and not fifteen years ago. Her thick inky hair was wound in a fat braid around her head like a crown, daisies peppered in the sea of black. She’d kissed the tip of his nose, and that gesture of affection was burned on his brain because in that moment he had never felt more loved. Her bright green eyes had been filled with happiness as she’d taken in the sight of him — his teenage years had been good to him in the looks department.
That summer had been the best of his life and only served to set the tone for all Xavier’s relationships after that. Their love wasn’t perfect by any means, she was the maid’s daughter after all, but when he thought of her, he was lost in a sea of jasmine, inky hair, soft flesh, and crimson. The memories of Eliza pulled him beneath the waves, engulfing him. The brunette he had picked up leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I want your cock in my mouth.” She was direct, and that was something he appreciated, but Eliza was still lingering on his periphery. She was the reason he loved Halloween — she’d been his first conquest.
The sound of his zipper being slid down brought him back to the here and now. The brunette — Sally, he thought that was her name, he’d forgotten, but it wasn’t important — was slipping her hand inside his trousers. Her dainty hand expertly handled his erection — not from her, but the memories of Eliza, black and red, like a lady bug. As her hand squeezed, she had his full attention, but he wasn’t some school boy about to cum in his trousers. If she wanted to play, it’d be by his rules.
He shoved her sequined dress up to her hips, grabbed her legs, and lifted her forcefully onto the desk. Hooking his fingers into her panties, he ripped them off, exposing her perfect pussy. Claiming her mouth once again with his own, he wrapped her legs around his waist before his hands made light work of the spaghetti straps on her dress. Pushing her dress down so it was now all bunched up around her waist, he watched her tits bounce, nipples begging to be touched. This was how he liked his women — pliant, biddable, and begging to be fucked. She balanced herself by holding onto the desk as he took one puckered bud in his mouth, biting and sucking harder the more she groaned. The other he teased with his fingers, twisting and pinching as she arched into him. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was already teetering on the edge of her orgasm without him even touching her delicious cunt.
She moved against him, needing release, trying to push his trousers down, but he edged away. He needed more.
“Come and stay at my cabin this weekend.”
She pressed herself against his erection, trying to find her release.
“But it’s Halloween tomorrow, and I have plans,” she moaned as Xavier pulled away and thrust two fingers inside her, taunting her clit with his thumb.
“Are your plans better than this?” he growled against her neck, moving to bite gently on her earlobe.
“No…” she whispered as she dug her nails into his back.
“Then I’ll have a car pick you up here tomorrow at twelve. Be ready,” he commanded, applying a little more pressure. She screamed as she came, twisting against Xavier as she tried to bring her breathing under control, giving him a lazy grin. Tomorrow afternoon she’d be eating out of his hand and then tomorrow night the real fun could begin. Halloween was his. She was his.
Moving away, he straightened his shirt and zipped his trousers back up over his raging hard-on.
“Don’t you want my help with that, baby?” Sally asked, still perched on the edge of the desk, her tits and her pussy exposed to him, her red lipstick smeared across her face, and that mermaid hair a mess of tangles now. Xavier ruined her. He ruined them all. That’s what got him harder than fucking steel. Their fall from beauty and grace at his hands, mouth, or cock always made it worth the wait.
“Tomorrow,” he said firmly, and she grinned as she closed her legs and pushed her dress back down.
“Tomorrow then.”
Xavier left her trying to fix her hair and makeup and returned to the party, but if he was bored and disinterested before, now was worse. Excitement was coursing throug
h his veins, it was a high he couldn’t hide, and he didn’t want to, so he left. Let the rich, shallow bastards of society enjoy his champagne — tomorrow was Halloween. Tomorrow was his.
●
It was a coincidence that he had found himself on Halloween all those years ago, he hadn’t planned it, the opportunity just arose. Eliza had been in one of her moods, pushing him away over a stupid argument. She was dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, and he was the wolf that year, they were a match fated for disaster from the beginning. She had spat at him, slapped him, and then she’d tried to escape. But he loved her, she was his everything, and there was no escaping that. Now he couldn’t even remember what the fight was about, he just remembered following her out to the pool, Jack O’Lanterns flicking around them, casting shadows that seemed to creep closer with every vile word that flew from her mouth. She’d called him sick, twisted, but neither of them knew what that really meant in the heat of the moment. Would he do things differently if he had the opportunity? Of course he would, he would take his time, make sure Eliza knew how special she was to him. Instead, everything was gone in the blink of an eye. The gash she’d made on his lip wouldn’t stop bleeding; ruby red ran down his face and dripped into the water. Swirls of crimson danced before fading away to nothing, like their love. That night had sealed their fate, his anger uncontrollable as ribbons of scarlet polluted the water they had swum in that very morning. Blood calling blood.
Now, this night was a special one for him, his tribute to Eliza and everything that had gone wrong. A memorial for the love he destroyed with nothing more than his own two hands.
His security system alerted him to the gates being activated, bringing him back to the present. He waited patiently for the driver to drop the woman at the door and leave before he locked them once again.
“Welcome Sera,” he said with false warmth as he opened the large oak door for her.
“It’s Sarah.” She looked away nervously, the cold light of the afternoon more daunting than the night before.
“I’m just teasing,” he lied. Her name was of no consequence. They were all just substitutes to fill the hole left by Eliza. Replacements, bodies to spend the night with.
“Maybe I should leave…”
“Stay, my night will be ruined if you leave now,” he said the words smoothly, but they didn’t mean the same for him as they did for her. She smiled shyly as he took her hand in his and kissed her fingers.
“Did you get the roses I sent?” Xavier had a large bouquet of red roses sent over to her late last night after the gala. He’d picked every single flower himself, each a varying shade of red. Ruby. Scarlet. Wine. Crimson. Apple red. Blood red. It was a beautiful cacophony of hues that complimented and clashed. Red like her lips last night, that’s what it had said on the note…or something to that effect, he couldn’t really remember.
She was hesitant today, nervous almost, and he couldn’t blame her. Her brain saw him, rich, handsome, offering her the world but her heart — now that could sense what lurked underneath, the heartache, the disappointment until the bitter end. The hairs on her arms should rise because of the monster beneath the mask, not from excitement at the prettiness of it all. Xavier had been through it all before, he knew how women like Sally thought.
“Would you like a tour of my cabin?” he asked, escorting her in through to the lounge, her bag left by the door. He was sure she would have no need of whatever she had brought with her.
Leading her through the open plan lounge, full of beautiful aged woods completed by an open fire that crackled away happily in the centre of the room and a fur rug, he took a second glance at her. She was pretty, prettier than the last. Her dark hair was tied up in a sleek ponytail that made Xavier want to reach out and wrap it around his hand before yanking her backwards into him, but there would be time for that later. Patience is virtue. As they reached the kitchen, she had relaxed more, her shoulders were no longer tense and the grin she flashed him was genuine. They always let their guard down when they saw the lodge. They imagined being the woman of the house, the queen to his king. How wrong they were. How foolish.
He waved a hand at the grand staircase.
“It’s hand carved,” he explained as they began ascending the stairs slowly. They always seemed to love the stairs — that was until later when it became an effort to use them.
“I love this painting, so raw. So visceral.”
Sophie tilted her head at the huge portrait that hung at the top of the stairs.
It was a woman, dark hair floating around her porcelain figure as she bathed in blood. The red clashed with the white, and the darkness of her hair gave off a Snow White vibe. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful, but Xavier knew if she were to open them they would be a vibrant shade of green. The white robe she wore clung to every dip and curve of her body, partially see through in the ruby liquid. It was erotic, ethereal, consuming. The painting had a quality that made you not want to look away, it ensnared you — just like she had ensnared him.
“I had it commissioned, it’s of a woman I once knew,” he admitted, giving her a small smile. He always made the women he brought here feel like he was opening up, letting them inside his head, it’s what got them to trust him.
“It’s titled Red Riding Hood, is that because of the red imagery?”
“It’s because that was what she wore that night.”
“What night?” Seren turned and looked at him, her hand on his arm, big brown eyes filled with understanding and sadness. She knew loss.
“The night she left.” He didn’t give any more than that, let her make her own conclusions, they always did anyway.
“I’m so sorry…” And she was, it was written clearly on her face. “I’m here now. Let’s not ruin the night. This Halloween is ours.”
She pulled him to her, lips connecting gently before his arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her in tighter. Hints of cherries and cinnamon filled his nostrils, she was like a rich merlot, begging to be tasted.
“Yes, it is.”
●
Taking her by the hand, he led her to his bedroom, it was his favourite room in the house. With white-tiled floors, the walls a creamy shade, and the furniture all dark woods, it didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the lodge, but it suited his purposes. The large four-poster bed dominated the room, white silk sheets inviting them to come and make a mess. It’s why he loved white, it was begging to be dirtied up, ruined.
Turning, he brought her closer and kissed her, hands pushing up her jumper, breaking away only to pull it over her head and dispose of it. Her fingers made light work of the buttons on his shirt; she was clearly desperate to get him naked and stake her claim. It was a frenzy of mouths and hands as they stripped each other bare. All that remained was their underwear when he picked her up, wrapped her legs around his waist, and pushed her against the wall. After a few minutes, he carried her to the centre of the room, placed Sarah down, and turned her around sharply. She leaned into him, soft little moans telling him that she was ready for more.
“Are you up for something a little different, my delicate little rose?” he asked, peppering her spine with kisses as his hands moved smoothly over her stomach.
“What have you got in mind?”
He expertly unclasped her bra with one hand and the other held her firmly in place.
“What’s your stance on a little pain mixed in with your pleasure?” He heard her breath hitch as he pulled down her straps and threw away the lace that had been covering her breasts.
She turned around, giving him a view of all she had to offer. “Like hair pulling and spanking?”
Hooking his fingers in to the edge of her panties, he began to tug them down her long legs. “Hmmm, not quite. Have you heard of blood play?”
She stepped back and out of her underwear, uncertainty all over her face.
“W
e don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with…” he reassured her, his voice soft and low. He had gone to all this effort to bring her here, the last thing he needed was for her to get cold feet when they were so close.
“How much will it hurt?”
What a foolish question. How much did a grain of sand weigh? Or a handful? Pain was subjective, surely she realised that. There was no right answer, what might ache for him might be excruciating for her. But he needed her, he needed this, and he would tell her whatever she needed to hear to make it happen.
Standing so his body was flush with hers, he cupped her cheek affectionately and whispered, “I’ll make sure every ounce of pain is overridden with pleasure.”
She gave him a long look. “And if I say stop?”
“Then I’ll stop before you’ve even finished the word,” he lied smoothly. Trust was what he needed, it was vital to make sure their time together went perfect. She needed to trust him, a rich, handsome stranger, implicitly with her life.
She nodded, big cow eyes filled with hope and longing. She wanted him, her senses overloaded and her sanity had left the building — that’s what Xavier did. He was a spider, luring prey into his beautiful web. His mouth claimed hers, his hands roaming over every curve of her body as he consumed her.
Pulling away, he pushed her down onto the bed and opened the bedside cabinet. Out of the drawer, he grabbed some red silk rope. Xavier grinned as her eyes widened, the lust clear in them. Good, she wasn’t entirely naive in what he would do, that made it easier. Kneeling by her feet, he reached up and kissed her again, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“Trick or treat, beautiful?” he murmured against her neck, as she tried to move against him.
“Treat...always treat,” she groaned.
He wound the silk ties around her wrists, pulling tightly as she let out a small moan.
“Now lay back,” he commanded, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder, exposing everything.
Tricks or Treats: An Anthology for Charity Page 16