“Actually, I do have five, but they're my coworkers…or, more like employees…not my lovers. My career is all-consuming.”
“That's…a serious injustice to all of mankind.”
She laughed. “Just a tad overstated, but thank you.” She glanced toward the stage, where a man was hooking a woman to a metal screen with cuffs at all four corners. “Ugh. This is too much. I'll figure something else out.”
“I have the perfect solution.”
She met his gaze. “Unless it's a solution that doesn't include screwing you, I'm not interested.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “If that's your line in the sand, I'll respect it. And I'll still give you the experience you need.” With his eyes on hers, he finished off the snakebite and set the glass down. “If you want to nail that part, angel, I'm exactly the man you need.”
This was so not what Giselle had planned for her excursion tonight. And as the devil pulled open the door to a room called Indulgence, he also kept what felt like a possessive grip on her waist. A grip that created opposing sensations in her body and mind.
You've gone too far, a little voice whispered in her head. What are you thinking?
Inside, the room was illuminated by hundreds of candles and subtle cove lighting. It smelled of exotic flowers and soft spices. Giselle fumbled for something to do with her hands since she'd stopped at the front desk and left all her belongings in a locker. The guide hadn't shown Giselle this space, probably because it wasn't one of the most popular. While the dungeon had been filled with dozens of couples and several groups, Indulgence held four other couples and one threesome, each in various stages of undress, some engaging in full-on sex, others performing oral sex, and still others toying with foreplay. The music was far more sedate, quieter and sexier while still edgy.
The existence of clothing gave Giselle a little room to breathe. When she'd taken the tour, the guide had explained that clothing was only allowed in the main salon and two other rooms in the club. All other areas required partial or full nudity to enter. But even without being forced to strip, her chest felt as if it were wrapped in steel.
She still wasn't sure exactly how this man had charmed her just enough and in just the right way to get her back here, but her sex ached, and all she wanted to do was turn into him and lose herself, yet she wasn't ready to make the first move. And wasn't that just a big fat laughable irony? The woman who was considered borderline animalistic in her single-minded ambition to hone her craft and build her career didn't have enough self-confidence to take the first step with a guy.
The devil's hand slid up her back and beneath her hair, where he took a gentle but possessive hold on her neck. Giselle curled her fingers into fists and dug her nails into her palms to quell her jittering nerves.
One wall of the room held platforms with mattresses and ornate chairs. Mirrors were scattered throughout the space, reflecting darkness and debauchery. A few private rooms had been tucked into corners, where drapes were gathered to one side in a pretty swag. The sultry duo, Krewella, floated on the air.
The most eye-catching elements of the room were three thick poles stretching from floor to ceiling, each spearing a lighted glass platform. One of the mini stages had been raised off the floor twenty feet or so, where a woman rode her partner bronco style.
“You are wound wire tight, angel,” he murmured, as they strolled around the edges of the room.
His hand massaged her neck, and she wanted to touch him, but she wasn't sure how, didn't understand the rules or the etiquette in this strange new land, not to mention one of the reasons she'd come in the first place-that it had been so long since she'd had physical contact with a man, she feared she'd forgotten what to do and how to do it.
“You'll be uncomfortable during the video shoot too,” he said. “And you probably won't have as much alcohol in you as you've got tonight.”
They passed bodies writhing and rocking. Groans filled the air, making Giselle's hands fist. A string of pleasurable mewls made her sex clench.
“I want you to take that little voyeuristic streak of yours,” he said quietly, “and soak in the material. Let the anxiety build. Let it grow and expand until you feel like you're going to pop. Until it becomes bigger than you are. Then, you'll focus your mind on whatever purpose you choose and drive all the potential energy from that anxiety into your target.”
They paused beside one of the glass platforms at floor level. A purple-blue neon light framed the base, and a clear wall created a safe border. He turned toward her, cupped her face in both hands, and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes were warm and rich, rimmed in sooty black lashes, his gaze so completely intent and focused and compassionate.
“Now, put theory to practice. Stop fighting the anxiety and use it. Give in to it, harness it, and let it drive.”
He paused, watching her, waiting for her to follow his instructions.
Giselle took in a deep breath, relishing his masculine scent, and let it out slowly, purposefully releasing the tension knotting her shoulders. She gathered all the anxiety and stress and fear scattered throughout her body, drawing it in and focusing on him the way she would focus on whoever the producers cast as her lover for the music video.
“Good.” The single word drew her gaze to his lips, and they moved slowly with, “Now where does it take you?”
Almost without thought, she lifted her hands and pressed them against his abdomen. She shivered at the first intimate skin-to-skin contact. He was as firm and supple and hot as he looked, and Giselle sighed in utter appreciation. She slid her hands beneath his open shirt, then stepped close and let her hands wander. And, God, he felt more amazing than her altered senses could fully appreciate.
“Very good.” His lids grew heavy, eyes hot with lust. “As you've so perfectly demonstrated, giving in to the fear is the fastest way to regain control. Let's take the next step.”
He slipped one finger beneath the strap of her dress and lifted it off her shoulder. Then lifted his opposite hand to the other strap. Giselle sipped a breath and covered his hand with hers. If that fabric fell over her shoulder, the dress would slide to her feet.
By the spark of challenge brightening his eyes and the dare edging his smile, he already knew that. “This is the next step, angel. Unless that simulated sex scene is going to take place clothed…”
Damn. Her eyes slid closed.
She took a breath.