Page 54 of Vivacity
And, all around, the beautiful people of London dance and sway and strip and touch and fuck. I’ve observed a steady stream of partygoers making their way through over the past hour, and it looks like things are really getting going. Take the (presumably wipe-clean) white sofa nearest me. Two guys are spit-roasting a redhead whose back is arched in such a clear expression of pleasure, of overwhelm, that my entire pussy clenches with FOMO.
I cannotbelieveI’ve only just unearthed this place! Although, to be fair, I have largely been playing in the Med for the past four years.
Ethan’s hand slides over my skin and around to my waist, tugging me against his side. His voice is smooth in my ear, his breath warm. ‘Anything take your fancy? Or would you like a tour?’
‘Let’s just—um—see where the evening takes us,’ I suggest, and I take a step further into the room.
As we weave more deeplyinto the throng of bodies, Ethan keeps a hand around my waist, a move I’m sure is far less about protecting me and more about demonstrating to everyone that I’m with him. He leads me over to a trio of huge St Andrew’s crosses carved from blonde wood, and I eye them with interest. There’s a woman currently trussed up on one cross and a guy on the other, but the nearest one is empty. A hot blonde guy in a tight black t-shirt and black trousers approaches, his grin wide and flirtatious. He has swirling Celtic tattoos weaving up both arms, while on one very firm looking pec is pinned a little black badge with the AlchemyAin gold.
He’s staff. One of the infamous Alchemy hosts. Makes sense.
‘You guys need any assistance tonight?’
I smile at him. I’m fully expecting Ethan to tell him where to go, but he pauses beside me. When I glance up at him on instinct, he seems to be studying the guy. Assessing him.
‘I think the lady could use some assistance getting up on this thing.’
I freeze, but in a really good way. Ethan’s going to tie me to a cross? For all my experience, this is one thing I’ve never done.I continue to stare at him, and he laughs. He really should laugh more. It’s so ridiculously sexy.
‘You look like I’ve just given you the doors to a sweet shop. A first for you?’
‘It is.’
He looks inordinately pleased by my answer. ‘Well, well, well. I get to corrupt the ingenue tonight, it seems.’
I snort, because clearly that’s not the case. ‘I mean, you’re welcome to try.’
He slaps the upper arm of the cross, assessing its robustness. ‘These are a good option for you. They’ll keep you nice and still for me.’ He leans in. ‘Means I can dowhatever I wantto you.’
Most of my sexual interactions with Ethan have been limited to what we can pull off within the confines of his office. Our tryst this week in the suite aside, he’s made it clear that I’m there to relieve him of his stresses in the most efficient, perfunctory way possible. Self-indulgent this man is not. So for him to suggest that he’s tying me to a cross so he can go to town on me is the best kind of revelation.
My night is looking up.
The ripped blonde guy grins. ‘You going to strip her first?’
Ethan turns back to me. ‘Ready to get stripped?’
The guy on the next cross along moans as another guy on his knees sucks his dick. With his shoulder-length dark hair, he really does look like Jesus. Weird. In front of us, a couple is gyrating, her back to his front. Her dress is hitched up around her waist, and I’m pretty sure they’re having vertical sex.
I’m so ready to join the merriment. I hold out my arms. ‘Have at me, sir.’
‘That’s my girl.’ His face is soft with approval as he steps closer, and there’s already a promising bulge in his trousers. He slides his fingers around the stretchy halter neck of my silk jersey dress and pulls it so he can weave it through all my hairand bring it up and over my head. When he lets it fall from his fingers, it pools around my hips, leaving me topless.
Ethan’s gaze drops to my boobs, his gaze rapt. My nipples are already hard, which will surprise precisely no one, and he goes straight for them, palming me hard, his skin warm against mine.
‘Nice,’ Host Guy says appreciatively. Ethan ignores him, sliding his hands down my body so he can push my dress the rest of the way down. It falls to pool around my ankles with a soft, slinky whoosh.
‘No panties,’ Ethan muses, eyeing up my bare body. ‘You really did come ready to play, didn’t you?’
‘You know I did.’
‘Let’s get her cuffed,’ the blonde guy says. ‘Heels on or off?’
‘The heels stay on,’ Ethan says in a tone that brooks no argument. He’s the boss. I shrug and daintily step out of my gorgeous Halston, kicking it to one side. It’s one of my favourite vintage pieces, sourced for my friend Lotta’s legendary Studio 54 party a few years back. I hope it doesn’t go AWOL. With his hands firmly bracketing my hips, he marches me backwards until I’m up against the cross.
The wood hits my bare skin, smooth and cool, the point where the cross, um, crosses solid against my bottom. I realise that my four-inch heels will provide me some much-needed height here.
‘Secure her,’ Ethan says, standing in front of me and rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. His feet are planted wide, and I defy any woman in this place to find a hotter guy to service her tonight. He looks every inch the alpha Dom, no matter how much he swears blind that he’s not that kinky.
