Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Here we are,” Tatiana says, stopping before a set of double doors at the end of a long hallway. She pushes them open without knocking.
The bedroom beyond is spacious, dominated by a massive four-poster bed draped in crimson silk. The lighting is dim, candles flickering in ornate holders, casting long shadows across Persian rugs and antique furniture.
Across the room, near a set of French doors leading to a balcony, a blonde woman in a silver evening gown bends over a velvet chaise lounge. She’s kissing someone, her platinum hair cascading over her shoulders, obscuring my view.
“Oh, Katya,” Tatiana calls. “Look who I’ve brought.”
The blonde straightens, turning with liquid grace. Her smile is dazzling, predatory. “Victor Callahan. We’ve been waiting for you.”
As she moves aside, I see who lies on the chaise behind her, and my blood turns to ice.
Lena.
She’s stretched out on the deep blue velvet, her red hair spilling like fire across the cushions. She’s wearing only a silk slip, her legs bare, her skin gleaming pale in the candlelight. Her eyes are half-closed, unfocused, her lips parted as if in dream.
“What have you done to her?” The question escapes before I can stop it, my first clear thought since meeting the brunette outside the station.
“Nothing she didn’t invite,” Katya says, trailing a finger down Lena’s cheek. “Nothing she doesn’t want. Don’t you know anything about her? About her appetites? Her nature? She’s simply…willing. As you are.”
Lena’s dark eyes drift toward me, recognition dawning slowly. “Victor?” Her voice is slurred, distant. “You’re here.”
“I told you he would come,” Katya murmurs to her. “He belongs here. With us. With you.”
Something fierce and protective rises through the fog in my mind. I take a step forward, but Tatiana’s hand on my chest stops me.
“Patience,” she says. “The night is young, and we have much to celebrate.” She takes my glass, refilling it from a crystal decanter. “Drink. Join us.”
My hand shakes as I accept the glass. Every instinct screams danger, but I can’t seem to resist the compulsion to obey. The liquid burns going down, the metallic taste stronger now.
“That’s it,” Tatiana whispers. “Let go of your doubts. Your questions. You’re among your own kind now.”
My own kind.
As I drain the glass, the world shifts subtly around me. Sounds become sharper, smells more intense. I can hear Lena’s heartbeat from across the room, can smell the jasmine of her perfume mingled with something else—fear.
“Now,” Katya says, beckoning me forward. “Come join us. The real party is just beginning, isn’t it Lena?”
Lena’s lips part as if to answer, but they close again on a sigh as Katya slips the thin strap of her slip off one shoulder, then the other. The fabric falls away, pooling about her waist. Candlelight plays over her breasts, throwing soft shadows across her skin. The blonde woman trails her fingers down Lena’s throat, leans in to circle a pink nipple with her tongue.
And I just stand there and watch, unable to turn away, growing harder by the second.
Tatiana steps behind me, her hands sliding up from my waist to undo my tie with practiced ease. She kisses the back of my neck as she works it free, moves around to face me and begins unbuttoning my shirt. Lena’s eyes never leave mine—they’re like chocolate flames burning through the haze in my head.
“Relax,” Tatiana says softly, pushing the shirt from my shoulders. “Enjoy.”
She kisses me then, deeply, and I taste that metallic tang on her tongue as she pulls away just long enough to remove my undershirt. Her hands are cold against my bare chest.
I can’t stop shaking.
On the chaise lounge, Katya’s hands move lower now, teasing at the hem of Lena’s slip before pulling it slowly down her body. Lena arches into it, murmurs something I can’t hear as her eyes flutter closed again. She’s completely naked now, utterly exposed. I should be rushing to her side; instead I stand frozen while Tatiana sinks to her knees in front of me, unbuckling my belt with deft fingers.
Her lips travel down my abdomen as she pulls me free of my trousers and shorts in one swift motion—a motion so fluid it seems rehearsed. She stands again and draws me toward the bed, while Lena lies on the chaise lounge beneath Katya’s ministrations, twisting under hands that roam everywhere, searching, coaxing.
I should care more than this.
The thought is fleeting and weak.
Tatiana pushes me down onto the bed, climbs onto my lap and kisses me again as she grinds against me through the silky fabric of her dress. The room spins around us—a blur of candlelight and shadows—and I feel like I’m falling forward into some dark unknown.
“See?” Her breath is hot on my ear. “Isn’t letting go easier?”
She nips sharply at my neck, and I gasp despite myself.
On the velvet chaise, Katya’s mouth moves lower still until Lena gasps too—a sound more animal than human—her back arching off the cushions like a bowstring pulled taut.