me as her friend.
Her name is Caro, and I’m about to stab her in the back—not literally, of course, unless she happens to get in my way. I have to be ruthless to succeed in this mission.
“Oh?” From the sound of X’s voice, the frost and ice made flesh, he feels the same way.
It’s not as if I’m unprepared for the mission. I did my research on fetish clubs. But even still...the butterflies darting around the pit of my stomach seem to have developed quite a case of stage fright.
“I’d love to play with your slave, if you’re into sharing.”
I jerk. No! That wasn’t part of my plan.
Caro is taking advantage. I’ve been cultivating her friendship for years, a target who has been a henchwoman to the most wanted man in Europe. But she’s a pain in the ass, and any traces of guilt I feel about my coming betrayal vanishes in an instant.
“I’m not,” X snaps. “But I’ll accept the invite.”
Caro offers a sultry giggle. “This is your first time here, is it not? I make it my business to know all the clients.”
“You own this place?” X asks nonchalantly; as if he could care less.
“Me?” Her giggle turns to an outright laugh. “Not at all. Daddy does.”
Daddy. My lips almost twist in a sneer.
“I’m not a big fan of small talk,” X announces abruptly. “Go ahead and lead the way.”
“Okay, but if you aren’t taking part in the fun, you need to stand on the side and remain quiet.”
“Understood.” X tugs my leash, and with a delicious shudder through my pussy, we’re off again.
Daddy is Dante Price. The lord of this hell. And he is here, watching somewhere close by, and Caro is his head henchwoman.
A few twists and turns down a narrow hallway and the music fades into the background, even as the moans increase. My boots are washed in a rich red light. We must have arrived.
Without raising my chin, I dare to lift my gaze.
Busted. X is staring right at me. But that’s not what causes me to gasp.
It’s the fact that behind him, undulating over a twenty-foot mattress covered in black silk sheets, a full-on orgy is underway.
X
My jaw tightens as I tug Z’s leash. I can feel her hesitation. Despite her outfit and willingness to play slave to my dom, she isn’t prepared for this.
“I meant what I said,” I whisper in her ear. “I don’t share.”
This time when I yank the cord, she follows more freely. She trusts my word, and she has no reason not to. I’ve never lied to her—aside from when I disappeared over two decades ago.
A chorus of moans erupts from all ends of the giant silk-covered mattress. A woman propped on her hands and knees gives oral pleasure to a man while receiving the same from a woman who lies beneath her. What seem like disembodied hands reach for Z. Before I can step between her and one of her admirers, someone succeeds in grabbing a handful of her net chemise.
She opens her mouth, likely to scream, so I don’t waste a second. I cover her lips with my palm and wrap my other arm around her torso, wrenching her free.
“She’s mine,” I say coolly, dragging Z to a corner alcove, the last remaining free one in the room.
I know that Z can hold her own against anyone in this room, but I also know that she is out of her element here, whereas I’ve frequented clubs such as this across the globe. Never, though, with a partner and certainly not one who in my younger years took both my innocence and my heart.
Despite my feelings about Z’s betrayal, if anyone else in this room lays a hand on her, I’ll cut the appendage off before the assailant has time to blink.
I hold her body flush to mine, my cock rigid against her lush, firm ass.
“Twelve o’clock, nine o’clock, six o’clock,” I whisper.
She nods, noting each alcove that hosts a dom and a sub in “private” one-on-one sex play.
From the intelligence I’ve collected, Price doesn’t engage in the group acts, but he watches them. Those he finds most entertaining he invites into his private viewing room. All we need is to get a private audience with him and then we plant the seed. “Do you remember your role?”
She slams her ass into my cock, and I grunt from both the pleasure and the pain.
“I take that as a yes,” I growl into her ear.
Anyone who wants to do business with Price needs an in. This is ours. Once we get an official invite, we become business associates of an arms trader who wants to check out Price’s inventory.
I wrap my end of the leash around my wrist and spin Z to face me.
“Nothing we haven’t done before, right?” I say bitterly. “And I’ve got something that’ll make it like old times.” I pull a silk blindfold from my pocket and tie it over her eyes.
“Fuck you, X,” she hisses.
I grin. “That is the plan.” Then I press a palm to her shoulder. “Now kneel, Princess, and show me how you worship your king.”
She obeys, playing the part of the good little sub. But once on her knees, she does nothing more.
“Did I stutter, Princess?”
“No, Highness,” she answers, whatever expression her eyes hold hidden behind the blindfold.
“Then tell me why you pay no reverence to your liege.”
My cock throbs behind the zipper of my jeans.
“Because.” She shrugs. “I’m a bad little princess. You’re going to have to make me worship.”
If we don’t give Price a worthy show, then this evening was for nothing. So I grab the knot of hair on her head and yank it hard. Because of the blindfold, she doesn’t see it coming, and she cries out as her head jerks. Then her ruby-painted lips part into a devious smile.
“Worship,” I growl, giving the leash a slow tug, knowing the metal ring rubs along her folds every time I do.
She unbuttons my jeans and lowers the zipper, and there it is again, the smile that tells me this agent is far more trouble than I anticipated.
She rips my jeans to my ankles, nodding at the small weapons in each slot of the hidden holster that only she can see.
“What’s the matter, X? Don’t trust me?”
I
