Page 105 of Chandelier Enthralled
My own desires had once been kept hidden, but now they were crawling to the surface, undeniable, and as my cheeks flushed brightly, I knew I had given away my secret thoughts.
Yet he stood there, merely watching, waiting, as though I was a woman to be treated with dignity, even though I was desperate for his brand of depravity.
Would he fuck me like that man was fucking that woman, in a way that stole my breath and shook me to my core?
“Time to go,” he said huskily.
What? No!
Ignoring him, or trying to, I turned to stare once more through the lens, wanting him to come closer. Beckoning him in the only way I was brave enough to do, silently, remaining completely still, as my soul begged for Greyson’s touch.
I continued to be a voyeur, mesmerized by the depth of their performance, the art of forbidden desire let loose and shared with everyone. It was a magnetic force, intoxicating, with a heat so fierce it bordered on untenable.
But I was lost, consumed by what I had seen, unable to tear my gaze away.
“L’appel du vide,” I muttered. It was like I was staring into the abyss.
“Quite true.” Greyson was directly behind me.
I was doing this on purpose, beckoning chaos, experiencing an impulse to do something dangerous. It was impossible to resist the magnetic pull toward the perilous because I kept my face pressed against the wall and my eye on the scene.
“Okay, Alice, you’ve seen enough,” he joked, as though I was about to be sucked into Wonderland.
I glanced back at him. “It’s about uncovering what’s been kept from us.”
“Us?”
“The public.”
“Good luck with that.”
Nowthiswas the story—Jewel Hadley was into extreme kink and all the nefarious stuff that went along with it.
Getting into Pendulum was just the start. Getting to see Jewel in her natural habitat was the win. If Greyson wanted me to play along, I could do that, or maybe this was him trying to scare me away from this place.
As the scene on the other side of the wall continued to unfold, the woman who rode that man became frenzied, rising and falling on top of him like he was her savior.
Sensing Greyson closer now, I didn’t move, didn’t flinch…because I liked it, craved it, this devastating vulnerability.
If I was to understand what was happening here, experiencing it was essential—this was a kind of lie wrapped in layers of truth.
Greyson’s cologne was seeping into my senses, his uneven breathing hinting that he, too, was aroused.
Meanwhile, my doppelganger was taking the erotic hit while I remained safe in the presence of this man. His touch was everywhere all at once—but only in my imagination.
There was no physical contact between us, and yet Greyson emanated an addictive pull.
He was part of this debauchery and approved of it. What did that make him? What did that make me for wanting to be with him?
In the center of the grand chamber, female figures danced in a circle, their passions feverish, their chests heaving, their eyes bright with lust behind their masks as the darkness of the room dimmed.
The spectators now became fucking lovers, the space alive with moving bodies, a feast of temptation as flesh writhed with flesh, swarms of naked nubile ladies joining the fray. This was an orgy, elaborate and orchestrated and too compelling to look away from.
My heart thundered at the voyeuristic thrill.
I was in the presence of something exotically foreign, a lifestyle I’d heard whispers about, but until now had never envisioned. I kept watching secretly, unable to tear my gaze away, seeing pieces of a complex puzzle that refused to fall into place, an intoxicating mystery that dragged me under, a tantalizing show that caught me in its thrall.
“I need this,” I whispered.
