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The light oak bed beckons me, so I lie out on the top of the silver blankets, Luca chuckling. “Is it fit for a queen?”
“I was expecting some chains.”
Luca smirks, turning to look at Reuben who grins right back.
Hmm. Interesting.
“It’s stunning. I love it.”
A dainty, pale wood dressing table and chair sit by the window, a white gauze hanging across the glass. It’s shaped differently from the bathroom, the dimensions bigger. Understandably, it doesn’t open. Running my fingers over the gold-colored, jacquard velvet chair by the stairs, I climb to the next level. This room is dedicated to built-in wardrobes for all my clothes, and a robust desk and chair to work from. Again, the pale wood dominates—a silvery-white color, a reminder of the wintry landscape I inhabit.
I open the cupboards and drawers, looking. Wondering what might be hidden inside.
“This wood is perfect,” I tell Reuben. “I love it.”
He nods with gratitude. “One more floor,” he tells me.
I climb the stairs up and around to a dark room, full of large, wide mirrors. They almost reach the ceiling, a foot taller than Brecken who ducks his head every time he passes through a threshold. The mirrors circle a central, huge bed, the bed linens and covers a sumptuous, rich shade of plum. Above it, the ceiling is painted a dark gray, but it’s the mirror suspended from it facing the mattress that has my blood trembling.
Holy fuck. I’m in so much trouble.
All three of them seem to hold a collective breath as I stare at it. As I imagine fucking any one of them on that bed and watching us unravel in the mirror.
Two black leather poufs are positioned on either side of the bed. This is where two of them might watch, or wait, ready to join in. As I move to the far side of the bed, I spy a gunmetal gray trunk.
My pulse thunders like a team of thoroughbreds are racing past outside as I walk towards it and try the lid. It opens easily, a shelf containing a variety of sex toys and manacles, handcuffs, and rope neatly arranged inside. When I lift the shelf out, I find three thick piles of underwear stored underneath.
“This is where we’ll record you getting fucked six ways from Sunday,” Roo murmurs into my ear. He’s crept up behind me as I absorb every detail, because despite all the mirrors, I’m not looking at what they’re doing. I’m thinking about that bed, and the four, no—six—cameras I can see trained on it from every angle.
“This is the farthest you can be from any help,” Luca adds. “No one will hear your screams up here in the tower.”
“But they’ll be good screams,” I return, my voice unrecognizable as I lose myself to my book of perverted fantasies, ones they’ve all read by now. Ones we’ve been slowly striking through.
Luca walks to the headboard, showing me the black-coated steel rings attached to the metal-framed bed. I withhold my gasp, and then I notice that the headboard is actually a picture, where four crowns of stars and snowflakes intertwine. It’s a winter’s night orgy.
I run my fingers over the bespoke artwork, mesmerized by its significance.
This room is not designed to be cozy with its dark walls and muted lights. It’s not dungeon dark, but dark romance dark.
A shiver runs through me. “When can we start?”
Reuben’s voice is frayed when he answers, “Right fucking now.”
With utmost concentration,Brecken looks through the piles of specially chosen underwear in the trunk. I can’t wait to see what he picks out. Normally, I’m not one for being handed clothes to dress in, or for lovers to purchase glamorous, indecent lingerie from ultra-expensive stores for me. But Brecken likes taking care of me like this, and I like that he gets a kick out of it.
Of course, I’ll wear what he chooses. The dress he selected for New Year’s made me feel like a million bucks. And what the brothers did to me on the kitchen table that night, what they said while I was laid out like a smorgasbord, so wet for them, made me feel like royalty.
So yes, I’ll be their slutty queen trapped in a turret. I’ll wear whatever sexy scraps of silk or lace Brecken tells me to, just as long as he fucks me senseless while I’m wearing it.
That’s the kind of trade I like.
Brecken passes me two items of clothing and a silk blindfold.
“Wear these,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. “Hair up, and no peeking.”
He heads out of the room, disappearing down the spiral stairs. Heart pumping, I spread out the items on the bed. There’s a beautiful strapless bralette in black lace, the material soft and stretchy. There’s a matching thong, the triangle of material barely covering my mound. It leaves nothing to the imagination, but these guys are extremely creative.
Dressed, I stretch out on the bed, the covers pushed to the floor by the bed base. With the blindfold on, I try not to think of the cameras directed at me. I trust Reuben. I trust all three of these men to guard my reputation, to keep those images safe. But mostly, my mild anxiety is overshadowed by how ready I am for this. The wait has been excruciating, whipping me up into a frenzy of want and lust for one of them, or all of them, to prowl towards me and fuck my brains out.
