Page 63 of Carnal Games

Okayyyy then.

I’m officially deep in the neck of the woods with predators in roguish men’s clothing.

My spine straight with confidence, I saunter in the direction of the low pulsing music. Rosalie described the place perfectly. It’s a beautiful blend between modern and Renaissance. The navy-blue walls and mirrors on the ceiling, the lights looking like stars beneath them.

I’m enchanted by the decor but when I step into the foyer, my composure flies into the wind. My gait falters and I gulp, screeching to a halt.

When Tasha mentioned the rooms, she forgot to mention they’re built like a maze. Instead of closed doors, there’s arched open doorways, packed with men and only a handful of women. Their golden bracelet glint in the dim light and some are busy flirting with two men.

The severity of Tasha’s warning dawns when I inadvertently lock eyes with a man, who looks to be in his fifties. He flashes a toothy smile. The look on his face practically salivating at the sight of me hovering at the entrance.

Just as he heads for my direction, I move in the opposite.

As I do, I harshly yank the bracelet off me and shove it in my purse. I’d rather trudge the shark-infested waters without a life jacket than wear a neon sign signaling I’m a bait willing to be eaten.

Discreetly searching for the exit and avoiding the patrons’ burning gazes, I find it at the end of the long bar. I stick to the corner as I walk around the expanse of the room and heave a sigh of relief when I’m out of the socializing crowd.

I skip the casino section, where men roar with laughter, cheer, and drink loudly. Past it, I slow down as I find myself in a deserted crossing. There are two hallways on each side ofme with multiple doors. Neither appearing as the one Tasha described.

Just how vast is this club?

Clueless and lost, I make the mistake of walking in the opposite direction, away from the faint sounds I hear on the other side. Bianca warned me that the deeper I’ll go, the higher the chances of me walking in on couples fucking would be. She especially told me to stay away from the corridor named The Mirage.

So far, I haven’t stumbled on either.

Though, as soon as I say it, I’m smacked with my first scene of debauchery. Feet rooted to the spot, I clasp a palm over my mouth to stifle the gasp at the sight of not two, or three, butfivefreaking people in the throes of fucking.

It’s unfathomable to my naïve eyes to see how they’re all somehow connected.

A man and a woman lie in the middle of a bed in a doggy style position. Their hands and feet tied to the bedposts while he’s inside her. Both have a gag in their mouths. The remaining three men with masks covering their faces take turns fucking the bound couple. Low grunts and slapping noises echo in the room.

They’ve only thrust once before I’m turning on my heel and dashing away. I’m unable to delete the scene from my head. I had heard of threesomes, but fivesomes! The difference between hearing and seeing it live is as different as day and night. I didn’t think I was a prude, but that was too wild. Too much.

Nevertheless, my skin tingles at the thought of allowing someone total control over me. Dominating me. Freely giving up my will to let them do whatever they please. Will I be afraid? Burn up with need? Will I beg to stop or keep going?

So many what-ifs run rampant in my brain.

My eyes lock on a door in the distance. The cherry red color makes me freeze.

Oh my god! I found it.

Tingles for a whole different reason spreads all over my skin. Before a guard or a member of the club can ambush me, I take a step forward.

A broad torso stretching a black button-down shirt blocks my path.

He isn’t dressed like a guard.

A member, then?

Suddenly a nervous wreck, I slowly trail my gaze up the planes of his abs, defined pecs, and his throat visible through the open collar, until I’m swallowed up by a dark and bottomless gaze. Damn! He’s stunning, scary, and… pissed?

“I think you’re lost,” he says in a sharp voice. “This is a private area.”

“I know,” I reply softly. “I’m here to meet Mr. Singhania.”

“What for?” A demand.

“That’s private.”

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