“It’s my job, Miss Scarlett,” he replies.
I think about telling him it’s his boss in the room waiting for me but decide against it, stepping across the threshold and shutting the door behind me.
The Desires room is vastly different from the other two wings. There’s a giant chandelier hanging in the center of the room. It’s dimmed but illuminates the room with more light than the other two. There’s something anchored to the ceiling around it—a sex swing maybe—and a giant four-poster bed against the far right wall.
Directly in front of me is an entire setup of sex toys. Nothing is hidden in drawers but set out on display. A massive black dresser with things I’ve never seen before sits in the corner, with a giant Saint Andrew’s cross beside it.
Slowly, I run my fingers over the different items hanging on the left wall. Whips, chains, rope, and long satin ties are neatly lined up, just waiting to be used for whatever pleasure the people using the room desire.
With as rough as Jackson likes it, I wonder if he’s ever used any of these things on a woman before.
The sound of ice clinking in a glass has me spinning to see him sitting on a velvet chaise along the wall behind the door. He’s watching me, his face nearly visible behind the simple black mask he wore the first night we met.
He’s dressed in black dress pants and a white dress shirt like normal, only this time, the sleeves are rolled up to expose his forearms, and the top few buttons are undone, causing mystomach to start doing flips. Arousal swims low in my belly, and my mouth waters at the sight he makes.
“Hi,” I offer lamely.
My greeting is met with silence, though I can see his eyes roving over my body as he calmly sips from his glass.
“I’m surprised you asked me to come here,” I continue, the need to fill the silence spurring me on. “This is the place where everything fell apart.”
He shifts, settling back as he uncrosses his legs and spreads them wide as if getting ready to watch a show.
AndI’mthe entertainment.
A flame ignites slowly, licking its way down my body to settle between my legs. The soft click of my heels on the hardwood is relaxed as I approach him, stopping when my bare knees brush the fabric of his pants.
“Would you be mad if I said I can see it now, and I don’t know how I never noticed it before? I think…at a certain point…I might have subconsciously known. The way my body fit against yours, it was the same. The way your fingers felt inside me. But you were so careful to make sure I never noticed the little things like your voice and your scent. How you’d never look me in the eyes for long.”
He still doesn’t respond, just stares up at me as I speak, his glass nearly empty as he swirls what’s left of the amber liquid around the giant ice ball.
“Jackson, will you please say something?Anything?” My voice is pleading. His unwillingness to talk is starting to make me nervous.
“The last time we were here, Little Ember, I told you that I’d never fuck you.” He finally speaks—with his accent, which takes me by surprise.
“Jackson, you don’t hav–”
“Thirty days,” he interrupts, continuing his husky English intonation.
Slowly, he sits up, reaching for the hem of my slip to pull me closer. When I’m standing between his knees, he slides hishands beneath the fabric. His warm hands skate along the outside of my thighs and up to grip the swell of my ass.
“What?” I ask shakily, my hands finding the top of his shoulders as he skims his lips over my stomach. His hot breath dampens the silk, and my skin pebbles beneath it.
Jackson pulls me closer abruptly, lifting me by my thighs to settle me on his lap. I can feel the rock-hard ridge of his cock through his pants as he pulls me down onto him while his lips pepper kisses along my collarbone.
“Once, every thirty days, you can havehim. This room. The masks. The personas. They all stay here.” He pushes his hips up, the hand on the base of my spine pressing me into him as he rocks against my center. “At home, we’reus.You and me. Thathasto be enough.Ihave to be enough for you. But until you’re ready to let him go, I can offer you this.”
There’s no way to describe his tone other than vulnerable.
Sliding my hands into his hair, I gently pull his head away from my neck and press our foreheads together, our masks almost a perfect mirror. “I promise you, Jackson. I wantyou.Onlyyou.”
His hand slides between us, fingers brushing through my bare center and up to circle against my clit gently. My lips part, breath caught on a small gasp as he begins to stroke me. “Promise me again. Because if you decide you don’t, and you end up needing someone to take the stranger's place, I don’t think I’ll survive it.”
I stop trying to chase my pleasure, reaching down to still his hand against me. “Jackson, I love you. You’re all I want. We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to give you everything you want, Ginny. I want tobeeverything you need. And if that means spending one night a month here at the club, fucking you however you wish, and speaking to you with this accent that seems to drive you wild. I’ll do it. I’ll do it happily if it’s what you desire.”
“My desire isyou. I needyou.” Letting go of his shoulders,I drop my hands to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them to expose his naked chest.