Page 91 of Chandelier Enthralled
It made me cup my mouth in shock that she’d not permitted her to orgasm.
The elevator door opened as the brunette collapsed, seemingly comfortable with her unsated need. She gazed down the vast corridor with a sense of desperate longing.
In that moment, I realized she had been carefully prepared, brought to life in all her sensual glory, and now, she would enter the High Chamber, hungry for more, yearning for that which she had yet to receive—desperate, wanton, and consumed by an insatiable desire that seemed to pulse through her.
I had never witnessed such intense sensuality, and yet she hadn’t even climaxed.
A devastating truth overwhelmed me—the realization that I might never be able to feel anything close to this kind of pleasure.
Ipretended like I belonged, like I’d seen this forbidden zone before as a rush of adrenaline heightened my senses. A gut feeling was warning me to turn back.
Get the hell out of here.
Don’t take one more step.
But I continued down the hallway, heels sinking into the crimson carpet that stretched all the way to a distant doorway.
The scent of incense and candle wax was reminiscent of a church beckoning the faithful. Only here, they worshiped a different kind of God, a religion filled with excess, where indulgence was the sacrament—not just encouraged, but revered.
More startling was that a few nights ago, I had discovered Greyson was into this kind of scene, this alluring erotic playground.
The walled mirrors on either side reflected a lone woman scurrying along the corridor, a woman who didn’t belong, her expression full of fear. I dared not look back, in case those two women tried to cajole me into going in a direction where I would end up becoming trapped.
I reached the end of the hall. Drawing in a sharp breath, I burst through the doorway.
Ahead, lay another corridor, tall pillars framing a grand doorway that appeared too daunting to enter.
I hurried through the entrance, coming to a halt once inside.
A man lounged in a corner chair, one long leg draped over the other, his face obscured by an intricate masquerade mask. His elegant tuxedo clung perfectly to his athletic frame.
I swallowed hard, ready to back out.
There, on an ornate table, sattheBombay Sapphire. The bottle was half empty since I had poured drinks from it earlier.
“Hello, Willa,” the man said, his voice husky, eyes boring into me. “I’ve been expecting you.”
My breath halted, heart pounding. “How did you know I’d choose this room?”
“Wild guess.”
I should turn and bolt, head out the way I’d come. Only there was something about him, his familiar eyes, his voice deep and articulate.
I looked around the room, checking for another exit.
Paneled mahogany walls were polished to a deep sheen adding to the intimidating ambiance. The room lacked windows, as though letting in natural light might give power to the divine.
There was a chain in the corner, coiled in a sinister circle. I smelled a hint of expensive whiskey, adding to the oppressive atmosphere. Despite the undeniable elegance, there was a sense of something hidden, something dark.
I’d caught a glimpse of what they valued here; that woman and that apple were etched into my memory.
I glanced over at the half-empty bottle of gin I’d used as an extravagant prop. It sat there on the long table, its presence designed to unsettle.
I felt with chilling certainty that I had breached the most dangerous threshold of the club.
“I found the elevator.” My voice sounded foreign to me.
His eyes widened behind the mask. “I can see that.”
