I don’t text back, just call the man who is assigned to watch over Whitlock.
“Put him on. Now,” I mutter, not bothering with any other explanation.
“Yes, sir,” the guard replies, short of breath as he’s already moving toward Whitlock. “Ready, sir.”
"You neglected to mention thenatureof this establishment," I say, watching a man across the room willingly accept a collar from his partner.
"I... I thought you knew," Whitlock stammers. "Ashford's preferences aren't exactly a secret in certain circles. This is just one of his many side ventures."
"What else should I know about?" I ask, keeping my voice low but menacing—just in case anyone is listening.
A pause. "Nothing else that I know of. Ashford also owns a few strip clubs in Belltown and a high-end escort service that caters to visiting executives and politicians."
I end the call without responding, then dial 404’s number. "Dig deeper into ourhost. I want everything."
"Already on it," he replies. "Just found something interesting. Ashford was named in a prostitution investigation by the DA's office last year, but his name mysteriously disappeared from the final report. The DA received a substantial contribution two weeks later."
Ashford’s assistant returns, carrying two glasses of whiskey. "Mr. Ashford sends his apologies for the delay. He wasn’t expecting you till a little later. He's completing a... session... and will join you in about an hour." Her eyes linger on Brynn, trying to decide how to handlethis delay. "I’m sorry for this inconvenience. As you wait, perhaps you'd like a more personal tour of our facilities? We have private rooms available for... exploration."
"We're not here to play," my voice drops lower, finding that dangerous tone that’s in direct contradiction to the arousal brewing inside me. Yes, that’s also dangerous—for Brynn’s body. "But.. I might make an exception if this takes too long. Maybe even make him wait for me."
Brynn’s eyes widen slightly in a mix of intrigue and arousal as the assistant withdraws.
"We’re here for business," she says, her voice carrying a hint of amusement but also intrigue. "Focus on that."
I scan the room again, assessing potential threats disguised as pleasure-seekers. "Everyone here is performing," I say, sipping the surprisingly excellent whiskey. It’s not like I could get poisoned. Well, I’ve been poisoned several times in the past, and ended up with a bitter aftertaste for hours. Not as bitter as what I fed to the ones who made the attempt, though.
Brynn's eyes meet mine. "Let them perform aswe wait," she punctuates the words, like she’s a little afraid of what might be going through my mind.
I smile, feeling the evil stir beneath my skin. "I could demand to see him right now. But this time, I don’t think I’ll mind the wait."
I don’t ask for permission before I drag Brynn away from the main floor, my hand locked firmly around her wrist and my eyes still alert to any danger.
The sexual energy of this place has wound me tight, awakening my hunger for her. And I don’t like to let time go to waste.
We pass several occupied rooms, and I can catch glimpses of naked bodies and restraints through some partially open doors. Some of them leave the doors like this, so that anyone can come and watch. I enjoy a good show from time to time, but I have different plans now.
At the end of a dimly lit corridor, I find what I'm looking for—a vacant suite designed for privacy. I drag her inside, locking the door behind us so there’s no escape.
This wasn't part of the plan when it came to Ashford, but plans change when necessity demands it. And right now, my body is the necessity demanding hers.
The room is all about dark luxury. Black walls absorb light rather than reflect it, making even midday look like midnight. A king-sized bed sits in the center of the space, black silk sheets, a few metal loops embedded in different parts of the walls, reinforced anchor points in the ceiling, and a few pieces of furniture designed specifically for restraint.So little time, so many possibilities.
“Ares,” she warns, knowing exactly what I’m thinking and also knowing no warning is gonna stop me.
"We have time to kill," I say, relaxed, though my body betrays my impatience. Especially since this place has given me a few new ideas.
I step closer, close enough to feel the scent of arousal on her. "You look amazing in this outfit," I say, looking at the long, stylish flared black pants and the matching top-- cut low enough in the front to let the round swell of her breast tease me, "but I think I want to see it on the floor."
Her eyes darken as she recognizes the hunger in mine. "Since when do we mix business with pleasure?" She challenges, but I detect the subtle quickening of her pulse at her throat.
"Since the very beginning," I mutter, ready to remind her, if necessary, that this isn’t the first time our lust has been stronger than our will to handle it.
I don’t give any more explanation. I just grab her waist and pull her against me without too much protest from her.
I don’t tear her clothes like I usually do. I have to admit it’s my guilty pleasure, but we do have to leave here and I don’t want anyone seeing whats mine. Instead, I lift her top to cup one of her breasts through her bra. I fucking need to taste her. My tongue swirls over the swollen flesh as I drag the material down and take one of her nipples deep inside my mouth.Her legs buckle as I bite her gently, and I know for sure she’s fucking wet by now.
Still, I take my time and do the same to her other breast. Sucking and biting until her breath hitches against my mouth, and her heartbeat is so loud that I feel it against my tongue.Only then do I throw her top on the ground, followed by her pants, as I kneel in front of her and my mouth lowers to bite the flesh between her thighs through her panties.
