Page 54 of Midnight Whispers

Asher gives him a scathing look. “But you were sure before with Maude and look how that turned out.”

His words play at my biggest insecurity—that I’ll be set as the fool again. Believe that someone actually cares for me only for it to be a lie.

“Cinder isn’t Maude. I wouldn’t have told her about everything if I thought she was. Not even Maude knew about the Ritual Room.”

Asher nods. “Just make sure we don’t regret it.”

I feel as though someone just took a load of bricks off my chest. “No regrets. I promise.”

I leave his office feeling good. Feeling lighter and better than I have… ever.

The theme for the Ritual Room tonight is medieval fantasy, and I picked Cinder’s outfit knowing it would emphasize her tits, but I hadn’t prepared myself for how fucking stunning she’d be.

She steps out of the bathroom wearing a barmaid outfit with a long brown skirt, a corset around her middle that cinches her waist, and plain cream cotton covering her swelling breasts. The moment I see her, I want to tug down the fabric and tongue her nipples, but it will have to wait. We’re due in the basement for her initiation.

“You look absolutely stunning.” I palm the back of her head, bringing her in for a kiss, but before it can lead anywhere, I pull away.

“I like this look on you.” Cinder runs her hands up and down over my black velvet jacket with a half cape. She fingers one of the many buttons down the front, so I pull her hand away because it feels as though she’s tugging on my dick, and if I don’t stop her, we’ll never make it out of this room.

“Are you ready for this?”

She nods, but I don’t miss the way she chews on her lip. She’s nervous, whether she’ll admit it or not.

“Remember, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you want to stop at any time, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Time for the final touch for my costume then.” I step over to the table where I left my mask and slide it on.

“The raven. I guess I should have known.” She runs her fingers over the long beak of my gold mask.

“And here is yours. You won’t wear yours until next time, but I wanted you to see it.” I hold it out to her.

It’s much smaller than mine, but it’s also gold. And because I want hers to echo my own, it has small feathers and a very small beak.

“I love it. Should I leave it here for tonight?”

I nod. “You won’t be needing it. We should go though. Everyone will be waiting for us.” I lead her by her hand down the dim hallway.

“I’m afraid I won’t do well tonight. I want to please you,” she says.

I tug on her hand and bring her to a stop. “That’s something you don’t have to worry about. You always please me. You just be yourself, okay?”

A long stream of air leaves her mouth. “Okay. Is there anything I should know before we go down there?”

We walk again.

“Just that I’ve already selected the people who will be helping with your initiation this evening.” I squeeze her hand in reassurance. “And I suppose I should explain the mask system to you before we arrive. It won’t matter much this time around, but in the months to come, it will.”

“Okay…”

“You’ll see that there’re three different colored masks down there, beyond the gold ones my brothers and I wear, along with you, Anabelle, and Rapsody. Each color mask denotes something different. White is a watcher—pretty self-explanatory. They just want to observe and might choose to satisfy themselves. You won’t see a lot of those. Red is a waiter—those people haven’t decided what they’re in the mood for. They can be approached and offered any number of things, then they’ll decide what they’re up for. There’re lots of those. And then black. Black is a doer.”

“What’s a doer?”

“Those people are up for whatever. It implies that they’ve given their consent for any and everything. Part of what gets them off is not knowing what might come next. The rest of the guests can do whatever they want with them.”

Her eyes widen. “Are there lots of those?”

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