Page 89 of Dirty Mafia King
“He directedEyes Wide Shut.” My heart flutters, and something stirs deep within me. Oh, Lord. To witness a gathering like that. A kinkster’s playground fused with a sensualist’s paradise? It’s a wild fantasy, set in reality.
And I’ve been sent away like some innocent virgin while Bastian …partakes.
My fists clench.
What did I expect? An invitation to my father-in-law’s kinkfest? My first true taste of debauchery? A visit to his sex dungeon?
“Think masquerade, with men in suits,” Zoey explains, oblivious to my inner turmoil, “and women in expensive gowns and lingerie. I hear Mr. Beneventi likes human furniture.” She pauses, then explains. “Naked people, posing as tables and such. If they spill the drinks on the trays on their backs, he has them spanked. Or he has someone, man or woman, eat them out or offer a blow job, with the same rules in place.”
“Let’s go shopping,” I snap.
“Right. Too much for your delicate ears. Off to the bookstore we go. Whoo-we! Still, you’re marrying a Beneventi, and it’s probably better that you’re aware of all Mr. Beneventi’s particularities…”
“Gown shopping.”
Zoey stares at me, slow to catch on. “For the clubs?”
I shake my head. “We’ll need masks that’ll conceal our identities.”
If I weren’t so angry, her expression would be comical. “Wait. You want to sneak into Mr. Beneventi’s party?”
Mind set, I stalk toward the spa.
“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
CHAPTER32
ALESSIA
Italian opera music greets us as we exit the Uber.
Zoey grins from ear to ear.
My throat forms a knot as the beautifully twisted lyrics wash over me.My kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine.
“Opera, at a sex party?” Zoey exclaims.
“Not any opera—Puccini’s “Nessun dorma” or “No Sleep.” Am I surprised Bastian’s taste extends to Italian opera? Not anymore. And, of course, he’s playing the most twisted aria ever. “Pavarotti’s singing about a princess who threatens to execute her entire kingdom if her suitor’s name isn’t discovered. Listen to the female chorus in the background. They’re singing, ‘Everyone will die.’”
Zoey laughs. “How bent yet appropriate.”
I straighten my mask and smooth my gown across my hips, part intrigued and part annoyed. Bastian arranged my weekend away so he can play. But why? To shelter me? Protect his privacy? Or did decency prevail—because having a daughter-in-law present at his orgy is as twisted as the aria playing?
Yet that’s the nature of our attraction, isn’t it? Wicked and beautifully bent with boundaries broken and beyond repair. We crossed a line I don’t care to step back over. Bastian just doesn’t realize it yet.
Jealousy spurs me forward out of shyness’s shadow. Lord knows what I’m entering.
“Your ass is everything in that gown,” Zoey gushes from behind me as we enter through the front door. “The pale silver suits you, too.”
The silk glides across my curves, luxurious against my skin. The steel grey shimmers when I move. Subtly sexy yet sophisticated. Unlike Zoey’s short red dress with a plunging neckline, my gown covers me from collarbone to ankles. Three-inch silver-beaded heels and a tennis bracelet complete the look.
“How can your tits be so naturally perky?”
“It’s the material.” My entire body’s hypersensitive, but my lack of undergarments elevates the thrill.
I can barely believe we’re here.
The guards at the front gate were too busy eye-fucking us to pursue why the fake names Zoey offered them weren’t on the list. They waved our Uber through as Zoey winked and laughed, “Suckers.”
