Chapter 11: Ava

It was Holly who first told me about The Dark Odyssey.

She went for her twenty-first birthday with her then boyfriend, who was into BDSM.

I think every girl needs to have one of those friends who have a taste for the wild, but Holly was a little more than that. Wild for me is skydiving, bungee jumping, eating bugs, or some shit like that. I’ve never done any of those before, but that would be my definition of wild.

Unreal and far outside my comfort zone would be going to a sex club. So, when she first told me about her experience there and all she saw, yes, it fascinated me, and I might have hung on to every word she said, but that was all. I never planned to go.

Like most things that have happened in this one week, tonight doesn’t feel real as the car I’m in pulls up at the entrance to The Dark Odyssey.

I’m actually here. Apart from the doctors, this is the first I’ve gone outside in days, and this is where I’ve been taken to.

I’m in the back of a Bentley, and a driver Marguerite called Pierbo has brought me here to meet Vincent. Under the coat, I’m wearing some type of lingerie I’ve only ever seen in a Victoria’s Secret catalogue.

Lydia, a younger woman a little older than me who works at the house, gave it to me earlier, informing me that Vincent wanted me to wear it.

It’s a silk rose pink baby doll negligee with cream lace on the edge. There’s a matching thong, and my mask is cream with pink feathers and diamantes going around the rim.

I look like… I don’t know. I look good. Marguerite did my hair for me, and yes, I do look good, but I don’t feel it.

I’m still furious from the other night, and this is just… I have no words to truly express what I’m feeling.

As I’m ushered out of the car, I try to calm myself and remember why I did this. Maybe after it’s all said and done, I’ll feel better about the past.

Maybe I’ll be rid of the guilt I still feel when I think about it.

Maybe I can then feel free and like I don’t owe Dad so much. Like I don’t owe him everything. I feel bad for my thoughts because I know wherever he is, he doesn’t want this.

He never wanted this for me and never saved me from the horrors I faced so long ago to have me end up here. Captive again, although this was my choosing.

Another man takes over from Pierbo at reception, and I feel like property again. Like a package hand delivered and passed from one hand to the next.

We walk past with the line of people checking in and stop at coat check.

Awkwardness takes me when I take off my coat, exposing my body in this barely-there negligee. I’ve never worn anything so sexy outside the bedroom, and definitely not in public like this, with so many eyes on me.

I don’t miss the way the guy taking my coat gives me a once-over but rights himself quickly when the man I was delivered to clears his throat. It’s like a warning, which he seems to understand very quickly. I do too. It’s obvious that he wasn’t to look at me because I belong to Vincent.

I draw in a breath to clear my mind and follow the man who now feels more like a bodyguard.

I’m all worked up, but at the same time, I take in how beautifully decorated the place is. My heels click against the marble flooring that leads to a set of the large doors which open for us. At that moment, my breath is stolen away completely.

It’s like I could be in Venice again with my parents. The architecture of some of the buildings in Venice is similar to Russia.

The club has that feel to it with the gold ceiling that mingles with the club lights and the European décor.

The music is blaring with vibrancy, and the people around are taking fun to the next level. They’re all dressed in super sexy lingerie and masks, dancing the night away without a care in the world.

I was about to think the place looked like a normal, very classy club when my gaze lands on a couple having sex to my left.

My mouth falls open. I’m not the kind of woman who would want to watch people having sex, but looking at these people fucking out in the open is the thing that shocks me to the core. I don’t get the chance to continue my stare though because I’m escorted away. What I did see, however, was that the whole sideline area had cubicles with couples. All having sex.

We go into an elevator that’s to our left. It has one of those glass doors, and as we go up, a couple of acrobats float by on an aerial hoop. They’re naked except for the gold and green paint on their bodies and the traditional carnival masks. I’m so fascinated I move closer to get a better look and get a shocker when I see they’re having sex on the hoop.

I don’t even know how they manage it. The woman has her legs wrapped around the guy’s waist while he’s keeping them on it with his legs spread into a full split and his feet wrapped around the hoop. He’s moving into her slowly while she gives him complete control of her safety. They remind me of animals who bond together and are mated for life.

The elevator goes further up, and they’re lost from my view. We stop on the fourth floor and step out to an elegantly decorated lounge area.

“This way, please,” the guy says, guiding me by my elbow when I accidentally walk the wrong way.

I’m not thinking straight. I’m just walking like that mindless automaton again. Not knowing what to expect. Then I see him.

Vincent.

He’s standing by the private bar waiting with another guy who looks like him. Another brother. One I haven’t seen. There’re definite similarities between them, except this one has striking blue eyes.

Vincent says something to him, and he glances over at me and gives me a curious look. When he looks back to Vincent, he raises a brow. I don’t know what that means, and I’m not introduced either because he walks away before we reach Vincent.

“Boss,” the guy says.

“Thank you, Tony. Arrange for Pierbo to get back here to take my guest home in an hour,” Vincent orders.

“Yes sir,” Tony answers.

They all have such respect for him, all doing as they’re told. They don’t owe him anything, but they do it because he has power over them.

Tony leaves us, and I straighten up trying to look unfazed by how uncomfortable I am. It’s hard to do it though, with my breasts practically on show, and my ass too for the matter. The slight breeze from a passerby would lift the silky hem of the negligee, and everyone would be able to see I’m wearing a thong.

“Hello,” he says, looking me over. A light of interest flashes in his eyes my damn body doesn’t ignore.

“Hi,” I answer. I’m so worked up though that I can’t keep the tremor out of my voice. “Is my father safe?” I ask, not caring that I sound a little harsh. I need something to work with.

Something to take the edge off.

“He’s in rehab,” he replies, and my whole body sighs with noticeable relief.

God… he’s there. Dad went to the clinic. He’s there. I wonder how long he’ll have to stay and what’s happening.

“Did he go in on Monday?”

“He went Wednesday night.”

I try not to fume. It’s Friday, Vincent could have told me that from yesterday when I asked. The fact that he didn’t just highlights how controlling he is.

“How long is he going to be there?” I ask keeping my tone even.

“Three weeks.”

Jesus… that’s much longer than last time. The last time was just ten days followed up with outpatient care.

“When can I talk to him?” Tears threaten to fall when I think of Dad alone at the clinic. He’s had to go in for inpatient care three times. This is the fourth. It seems like the most serious as well. I’ve been with him every time—this will be the first that I won’t be.

I’m grateful when Vincent’s face softens and I see some element of compassion enter his eyes.

“Your father is in rehab and needs to focus on getting better. That’s all you need to know right now. I will let you know when you can speak to him.”

“Will you?” I challenge.

“We are not talking about this anymore.” He smiles.

I hate that he has so much control over me. At least I can take some comfort in knowing that Dad’s safe and is where he needs to be.

So, now I can think of me for a little bit until I have to think of him again.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask.

“It’s our playground. The house can become too boring. I don’t want that.”

“Playground?” God, what is this man going to have me doing? I have no idea what to expect here, and what I’ve seen so far has thrown me for a loop.

“We’ll be coming here sometimes to do things,” Vincent says, running a finger over the flat of my stomach. His fingers brush over the material, but I feel the heat seeping into my skin.

Dare I ask what kind of things he means?

“Have you ever been to a sex club before, Bellezza?”

“No.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have a good time. I’ll make it enjoyable for you, especially as it’s your first visit.”

I don’t answer. What am I supposed to say? What he means is sex, sex, and more sex, except I get the feeling that we’re about to go over to the dark side. I see it in his eyes.

He walks around me, circling me in that predatory manner. “This is your color,” he states. “It makes you look sexier. Now if only you didn’t have that miserabile expression on your pretty face.”

He takes his time to enunciate miserabile, and he actually says it with an accent. It sounds sexy when he says it.

“Maybe I look miserabile because you are a maniaco del controllo,” I answer, giving away that I not only understand Italian but speak it too. I knew what I was doing though when I said it. There’s little point holding on to something I don’t have to.

It’s much to his fascination.

He chuckles. “You think I’m a control freak?” He raises his brows.

“Yes.”

“And you speak Italian?”

“Yes.”

“Never told me that.” He looms closer and makes an obvious show of searching my eyes through the mask.

“You did not ask.”

“Fiery… I like it.” He dips his head, and a lock of his hair falls over his eye. “Take off your mask. It’s customary here to do so when you’re with the person you’re spending the night with.”

“I thought I was going to be here for an hour.”

“I want you later when I get home.” He holds my gaze, and the crackle of energy that passes between us stirs hunger inside me.

That’s how it starts. Always with a spark of something I can’t control. He says something or does something that throws me, so I never quite see it coming until it hits.

He gives me an expectant look that nudges me to take off the mask. I slip it over my head and notice the way he studies my face.

I’m wearing makeup. The last time I had on makeup was Monday night when it was smudged all over my face from crying. It wasn’t a good look. Tonight is different. It was odd getting ready with Marguerite doing my hair and Lydia my makeup, like I was getting ready for a date. Because I’ve taken to them, I humored them with excitement despite my anxiety.

“You look beautiful,” he states, and that sensuous baritone of his voice slips over my skin.

“Thank you...”

“Come, let’s get lost in a wild fantasy.” He stretches out his hand for me to take, and I do.

His large hand swallows mine as he holds my hand and leads me to a room just behind the bar area.

He opens glass doors which slide open for us. As we step inside, my breath is swept away again by the beauty of the décor. Again, it hands down has that European feel to it but with a modern edge. Everything about it looks like a bedroom, except for the floor. It’s mostly made of glass then tapers off to marble like the flooring downstairs. There’s a king bed there set against the marble with silk burgundy sheets.

We walk further into the room, then I see why the floor is made of glass.

It’s so we can see what’s happening beneath us.

Numbness fills me as the blood drains from my body, then I’m parched when it rushes back in a wild streak of fire as I watch the bodies moving around below me in sinful ecstasy.

There must be about fifty people down there. Men and women, all naked, having an orgy. Where they are looks like it was designed for it too. It’s a room with a padded floor that looks like one big bed designed for fucking.

I try not to look, but I can’t tear my eyes away. When I do, my attention is drawn to the corners of the room where there are people lying on tables with fruit and cream covering their bodies from head to toe.

They’re laying there like human desserts while others gather around to lick, eat, or suck the fruit off their bodies. The fruit and body parts. Breasts, cocks, pussies. There are men and women all partaking, no one caring about differentiation.

My mouth drops open, and I’m not sure how it doesn’t hit the floor. It’s sexual overload, and I don’t know what sort of dimension I’ve entered.

Nothing has quite felt real since Monday.

It’s just Friday, and I’ve had all sorts of things happen to me.

I don’t even realize I’m squeezing down hard on Vincent’s hand until he lifts it and gives it a wave.

It’s then I’m able to look up at him and see the wild curiosity he’s staring back at me with.

If this was designed to shock me, it worked, and like most encounters with this man, I’m left wondering, What next?

“You look scared. My darker tastes aren’t too much for you, are they?” His burning eyes hold me still.

I glance back down at the bodies again moving beneath us then look back to him wondering if he’s ever done that.

“Is this what you do?”

“Not this. I just like watching. The glass is like one big mask that I hide behind as I watch. The way they fuck is so outrageously wild that you lose touch with reality. It’s an escape. You look at them, and they don’t care about anything besides the pleasure. It’s like they’ve gone insane on it.”

As he speaks, my jaw loosens. I look down again. Just below me is a woman on her hands and knees with one guy pounding into her mouth as she sucks his cock and another guy pounding into her from behind. There’s another guy sucking her breasts. Vincent’s right… they look completely lost in what they’re doing to each other. It’s only when they switch around that my stare brakes and I return my focus to him. I’m already hot from all I’ve seen, but he makes it worse with the molten heat in his eyes.

“What do you think?”

I pull in a breath. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t you?”

I’m lying, and he can tell. I’m so aroused I don’t think I can move, and I’m thinking about sex… with him.

He releases my hand and touches my face. I look away and wince at his touch because his fingers on my skin feel like fire.

“Watching others lose themselves in pleasure like that is like an aphrodisiac. It makes you naturally give in to what you want most,” he taunts, guiding my face back to meet his gaze.

“Is that why you brought me in here?”

He smiles and slides his grip down my throat. It’s almost tight but just loose enough that it doesn’t appear threatening.

“Yes… I thought it would be easier for you to give in to your desire for me.” Without any warning, he lifts up my negligee and slides two fingers past the lace of my thong and right into my pussy. Instead of the usual tease, he strokes my core, but it’s just as tortuous. “I see it’s worked. You’re soaked.”

I hate feeling so exposed. I hate having my feelings and emotions so transparent to him. I can’t keep anything inside or away to myself. He knew I was wet before he touched me.

“Still saying you don’t want this?” he taunts.

“I don’t…” I’ll keep saying it, even as I moan from how damn good his fingers feel inside me.

He narrows his eyes at me, pumps harder, and leans in closer.

“Tell me to stop then, Ava….” he says, finger-fucking me now. His thrusts drive in and out of me hard and fast while his hands at my throat burn me.

I open my mouth to say the words, but I can’t.

The devil has me exactly where he wants me at the point where he’s giving me so much pleasure he knows I can’t resist it.

I try to look anywhere but his eyes. It’s his eyes that do the damage.

What I see though is a couple off to the corner of the room below. Like everyone else, they’re naked, but they’re making out. The way they kiss is almost comparable to the relentless movements of everyone else.

I watch them and almost forget what I’m supposed to say.

I look back to the man who’s giving me this insane pleasure and see he’s smiling at me with pure satisfaction.

“Tell me to stop, Ava… I’m waiting. Giving you the rare opportunity to take back control. Use it, or… lose it.”

“I… can’t…”

He gives me a wicked chuckle, looks to the couple I was watching, then shocks me by cupping my face and guiding my lips to his for a kiss.

He pulls his fingers from my pussy and holds my face so he can deepen the kiss, and shit… I lose it.

I kiss him back too high on lust and arousal. Our tongues tangle in crazy need, and even though he’s kissing my lips, I feel him everywhere, all over me. Inside and out.

I find myself tugging at his shirt while he cups my breasts. I pull harder, and the sound of a button popping off and landing on the glass floor registers in my mind. Just that and his hands are all I’m aware of.

He claims my mouth, crushing his to mine, deepening the pressure as he exploits my lips. Then he stops and pulls away.

I look at him not knowing what he wants now. I don’t want to accept what I want, because this can’t be me.

My hands are still on his shirt. The bottom two buttons are gone.

“Finish taking it off, Bellezza,” he says. His eyes entreat me to give in to what I want most, but my hands shake with nerves and the conflict of emotions roiling inside me. “Take it off, Ava. Do what you want to me.”

As he says that, it sparks something deep inside me. Do what I want? It’s been so long that I’ve done that. It feels like it’s been so long since I gave in to the call to do something I truly want to do.

He feels like that, and the temptation to take what I want from him is something I don’t want to say no to. Boldness takes over.

His smile widens when I start undoing his buttons. It’s the kind of smile that belongs to a man who’s confident about his appearance.

I conjured in my mind a masterpiece of a physique based on the sharp outline of muscles I’ve seen straining against his shirt. When the soft cotton lies open and he takes off his shirt, I see I was right… partially. He does have a body to be proud of, but what I’m looking at could rival the Greek gods.

Muscle on muscle is all I see running from the top of his shoulders right down to the V cut of his torso. He has a tattoo of a dragon on one arm and a snake on the other. His chest is covered with more tattoos.

There’s a black inky dragon. Something that looks like it flew straight out of a fantasy. It looks like it would breathe fire. The tail runs down the length of his abs and curls around the edge of his hip, calling to me to explore, so I do. I follow it all the way around and see the end right around his back, which shows five sparrows in flight.

I touch his tight taut skin, tracing my finger over the dark inky birds.

“Five,” I whisper.

“The five Giordano brothers,” he replies.

“There are five of you?”

“Four now,” he answers with hesitation and my heart stills.

“Four.” One died… death is always sad.

“Story for another time.”

I walk back around to face him, and he gives me a scandalous look so hot my blood heats up in my veins.

“Come here.” He reaches for me, taking my waist and lifting me up like I’m weightless. I rest my hands on his shoulders and look down at him. His muscles tense as he holds me out just looking at me. “Doll,” he says with admiration.

He walks with me over to the bed and sets me in the center, lowering to kiss me again. This time when we kiss, it feels more sensual and personal, like we’re tasting each other. It’s an exploration driven by hunger and passion that leaves my mouth burning with fire.

He licks my tongue and allows me to do the same to him. I get the feeling we could do that all day. Just kiss. It’s a chaste thought to have in a sex club.

It’s not like we’re here though, and it feels like this room was just made for us.

I’m not ready for him to pull away when he does. The wildness, however, is back, and he pushes me down to take off my panties. They go sailing across the room when he tosses them.

“This stays on,” he rasps, tugging on my negligee. “And these fuck-me heels.” He gives my feet a little tap.

The need for him to be inside me makes me crave him like I’m starving.

He backs off the bed and undoes his pants, shrugging them off along with his boxers. His perfectly erect cock breaks free and juts toward me.

With his pants gone, I see he’s got more tattoos down his legs. My God… I’ve never been with a more sexier man.

He gets back on the bed and moves back to me. Parting my legs, he runs the fat head of his cock over my entrance then plunges right in. There was no need for our usual foreplay. My body welcomed him like he belonged there. Like I belong to him.

It’s funny though. I don’t feel like property as he pumps into me. As I lie beneath him and he claims me, I don’t feel like a thing or a whore. I feel like a woman he wants to be with, and he feels like a man I want.

I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I know when I’m with him, I give in to my inner desires because he pulls them out of me.

Vincent holds on to my hips and starts fucking me hard. I writhe beneath him taking his rough, hard strokes that quickly send me over the edge.

I arch shamelessly into him and wrap my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his back.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he growls. “Fucking perfect.”

Heated licks of fire torment me as he speeds up and the tug of an orgasm brews deep inside my core. It’s divine ecstasy that sends a shock wave through my entire body.

“Vincent!” I cry as the tension builds.

He glares at me and stops. He stops right in the middle of sex, and I’m so hungry for his wild pumps that I thrash against him.

“Say that again…” he says, capturing my gaze with an intense stare. “Say my name again, Bellezza.”

“Vincent.” As I say his name, I realize that’s the first time I’ve ever said it. “Vincent…”

“I want you to scream my name.” A sinful grin dances across his perfect lips, and he flips me over onto my hands and knees.

I gasp as he plunges back into me and a new wave of pleasure takes me over the edge. In that moment the insane wildness I’ve grown accustomed to with this man comes back with a vengeance and he starts to fuck me with a manic speed that rocks my body. It has me screaming his name, just the way he wanted.

Fuck… it’s too much. It’s all too much. He is. I’m dizzy with pleasure, my body humming from the satisfaction of it. I come again and I feel like I’m going to collapse, but I want more. He’s made me greedy for him, greedy for what he’s giving me and I want more.

“You’re perfect baby,” he groans still pumping into me. He runs his hands up my waist then his fingers flutter over the small rosette of my asshole. Panic fills me when he stills and circles his finger around it.

“I want your perfect ass, Ava,” he says, giving my ass a hard smack that jolts my body forward. Despite the pain I feel from the sting on my cheeks, I moan, and he slaps me again then places soft kisses all along where it stings. “I want you here.”

The same wicked, sinful streak that took him must have me too because I can’t shake the ravenous thought of him filling me there and owning another part of me.

It’s that need for him to touch me everywhere coming out. The fact that he’s still got his fingers on my asshole makes it worse. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I’ve never been with anyone who I wanted to do it with.

“You can say no, baby. Tell me no if you don’t want me to, Ava. I mean it.” His voice is gentle, making me trust him.

“I… want you to,” I answer, and the desire intensifies on his handsome face.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Those simple words mean so much.

He pulls out of me, moves over to the nightstand and returns with a small container of lube.

I watch him over my shoulder as he gets back on the bed, opens the container and takes out some of the clear solution. When his fingers return to my ass a shudder races through me. It’s from his touch and the anxiety over how this will feel. He smears the lube over my asshole and I squirm when he pushes his fingers inside.

“Be still,” he commands and I obey.

He adds more lube, coating his cock with some of it too. He then adjusts himself behind me and takes my hips again. I brace myself as he rubs the fat head of his cock over my asshole, and I suck in a sharp breath as he starts to slide in.

“Ohh…” I moan. It feels weird, like I’m being forced open.

“Good girl. It will feel better in a second baby,” he promises and he was right. It does. His cock in my ass starts to feel good when he gets in a little more.

“You okay, Bellezza?”

“I’m okay.” I pant.

He goes in a little deeper and … Oh. My. God. Fuck, it feels too good.

He starts with a slow pump and grind and speeds up a little more. His cock pumping into my ass sets my whole body on fire. Convulsive reams of it lap over my skin and then explode in raw, carnal pleasure that has me screaming his name again.

“That’s right, baby, scream my name,” he growls.

I’m lost in the combo of the pleasure filled sensation that ripples over me and his cock pounding into my ass. As his cock pulses, however, I know his release is coming. The thought takes me to mine and I come. Moments later he pounds to his and the warmth of his cum fills me right up.

The electric buzz stays with me although we’ve climaxed. It awakens passion, awakening a flame inside me that shouldn’t be alight. It radiates from my core and spreads over my body. It’s amplified when he smoothes his hand over my waist.

Vincent pulls me into his arms as we collapse on the bed, and cradles me. The mere touch sends a warming shiver through my soul. I turn to face him and we stare at each other. My heart races as he strokes my skin and it feels like his embrace encompasses more than my body.

I drop my guard the longer I stare back at him, finding I can’t place the walls back up to shield my emotions. We’re not saying anything but the silence speaks of the desire that ripples between us.

It’s so intense I look away, but Vincent catches my face and reclaims my mouth, soul kissing me. The sensual kiss he gives me is so different to the animalistic madness that took us moments ago. It quickly becomes exactly that, however, taking me deeper down the rabbit hole.

And I allow him to.