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She giggles and blushes, turning toward me. I try to remain stoic but tip my head at Dimitri for laying it on thick for her sake. Sultry and slow-paced jazz music sets the somber tone of the maroon bar. The dungeon is down a hallway, past a velvet curtain through which Dimitri leads us to another bar.
“This is a beautiful place, Mr. Vassa,” Evelyn says to him.
“Thank you, but please, call me Dimitri. A dirty Shirley for the lady, and the fifteen-year-old Macallan for the gentleman,” Dimitri says to the bartender. He turns to Evelyn, eyeing her from head to toe and even licking his lips. He’s pushing his luck. “My apologies, Alessandro, but she is marvelous. Why haven’t you brought her here sooner?”
“Because she’s not a toy to be played with, Dimitri. Thank you for the bottle,” I tell him, placing my hand on the small of Evelyn’s back, rubbing small circles with my thumb. She sits on a stool with me behind her, wondering if she can feel the eyes of every man in here.
“You’re welcome, Less. If there’s anything else I can do, let me know.”
I want to enjoy the rest of the night, but still, I’d rather ask him now than later.
“Actually.” I pull him to the side. “The Truman situation is resolved, right? You haven’t heard anything from the girl? Like she wants to take me out or something?”
“Alessandro, of course not. I know she kicked up a shit storm after Truman drugged her in here, but he’s no longer a member, and from what I’ve seen, they’ve eloped to a country that doesn’t believe in extradition. Her parents were the ones pressing the DA to shut me down. Thanks to your negotiating that settlement, they’re happy, and I’m still open for business. Why? What’s happening?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” I tell him.
“I’ll keep my ears to the ground and talk to some of my brothers of the Bratva and see what comes back. Give me a few days. Until then, you and your beautiful wife, enjoy your night.”
“Thank you, Dimitri.”
He disappears to mingle, and I have my eyes on everyone. Fortunately, there’s about thirty people moving around. Some are dressed to play while others, like Evelyn and myself, are dressed to watch.
My monotone paisley print suit matches her dress, and the grey shirt I’m wearing is the same shirt she wore our first night in the playroom. The bartender comes with our drinks, making mine a double, and it’s even better with mio dolce.
Evelyn swallows one more drink before she stands out of her seat. Before she steps away, I spin her around to face me, my right hand dropping to slide under that slit to bring her leg up to my waist. Lust and intoxication swirl in her eyes. The softness of her fingertips grazes my face, tracing the lines of my scar with her thumb. She pushes toward me as I lean toward her, tipping my head to the side.
A mood washes over us as she glares at me. “Mio marito, the women in here are undressing you with their eyes.”
“Mio dolce, you’re having the same effect on everyone. If they don’t want to be you, they want to be with you. Luckily for me, you are mine.” Our mouths collide with passion that lets the world fall away around us.
A single moan and tremors erupting from the depths of my throat have me ready to pin her against the bar, which is my cue to back off.
“Ahem. We’ve never discussed our boundaries in public like this.” My mouth whispers the words against her ear to keep her libido high, ready and wanting only me.
She kisses me tenderly. “Let’s take a look around tonight just to see what happens. We can make up the rules later.”
The way my hand swallows hers as I lead her deeper into the club gives me a sense of pride, her protector. At least in here, the worries of our other life can’t follow us inside. Six rooms make up the interior of the club where Dimitri hosts these private events. Two of the rooms are large enough to hold about ten people, more for the exhibition and voyeur scenes some members like to enjoy.
The first room already has a crowd of five watching in bated silence. Padded leather walls with chrome details encase the room. A leather swing and harness hook into the ceiling. The white, grey, and black marble tiled floor lightens up the space significantly. I’m sure the audience is grateful to watch the players in action. There are currently three people in the scene.
“Do they like us watching?” she whispers, turning her head slightly toward me.
“Yes. This is a scene. Every participant agrees to let others watch before they begin. And anyone joining now sees us here, so it’s up to them whether they want to continue.”
Evelyn observes quietly as one woman feasts on another woman who’s suspended in a swing from the ceiling. There’s a man in a leather hood standing in the corner sorting chains of various thickness.
“Is that for her or for him?” Evelyn whispers to me. There are others beside us who I’m sure are wondering the same thing. However, when another man steps into the room, she gasps. He’s frail, red-headed, and I think he’s a local city council member. There are old bruises skittering down his back as the man in the hood pushes a black wooden pillory close to the woman suspended in the swing.
“What’s that?” she asks with excitement.
“Mio dolce, just watch,” I tell her.
The scene begins with the councilman putting his head and wrists into the dips of the wooden frame before the top closes on top of his neck. The woman in the swing is whimpering for orgasmic release with the councilman salivating to give it to her.
Armed with a vibrator and nipple clamps, the female associate of the hooded man taunts and teases the woman in the swing. The hood whips the councilman with a light metal chain as he watches. My hand travels down the side of Evelyn’s dress, searching for the slit that gives me entry to touch her.
Evelyn sucks in a breath as I touch her pussy while the woman in the swing comes, and the councilman whimpers for his own climax.
