Page 59 of Pandora's Pleasure

“What kinds of things?”

“I’m talking of ways to protect you.”

“What if we’re recognized?”

“We’ll be wearing masks. The lights are dim at Vanguard. The events are different for each room.”

“How do we choose which one to enter?”

“I choose.”

She reached down and held my foot between her thighs which was her way to keep my toe playing with her pussy. “I’ve been kept in a glass cage. Never allowed to do what my friends did. No sleep overs. No getting drunk. I literally had to beg for a library card.”

I chuckled. “Did you get one?”

“Eventually, but I’d trail in there with my father’s security detail and it got old.”

“What kind of books were you searching out?”

A blush rising on her cheeks.

“Maybe it’s time to lock you back up in that glass cage, young lady,” I said sternly. “I can see you becoming trouble.”

Her thighs splayed even more. “I want you to show me everything.”

“Where would you like me to start?”

She bit her lip suggestively. “Just take me over the edge.”

The thought of taking her to Vanguard caused a torrent of euphoria to rush through me—the real me didn’t need to be hidden from her anymore.

My toe rewarded Pandora’s clit, indulging her need for my brand of debauchery.

Seemingly dazed, she was already gone, riding through a heady climax, her body shuddering and her breasts trembling, her pink nipples pert. Her soft sighs filled the room and then she screamed my name.

“Take me to Vanguard as yours,” she begged a moment later, gasping. “Promise me you will.”

“Not yet, but soon.”

I’d never had the chance to look around Damien’s home. With nothing on me but one of his white shirts, I went exploring—my mind dragging me back to last night. To that room below.

God, that room and all that went on within its walls. Those endless orgasms. Him taking me for the first time, making it as memorable as he’d promised. And that leisurely bath we’d shared during the wee hours.

Afterwards, feeling shaky and overwhelmed with so many emotions, I’d let him take my hand and lead me to his bedroom. He’d climbed into bed beside me and pulled me close. Spooning, we had slept together all night.

I’d woken up just after 7:00 A.M. to the sound of him showering, and decided to take a tour of the house.

A rush of excitement hit me when I walked into his impressive study. I’d stepped inside the reflection of a man, noting the simple modern desk surrounded by tall shelves of books covering a wide range of subjects. Reading some of the titles, I recalled that Damien had studied history at Yale.

He also had what looked like a full collection of Chuck Palahniuk novels on the far shelf, along with some Tom Clancy books, too. That was a nice surprise.

“See anything you like?” Damien was leaning against the doorjamb, his hands around a large mug.

He was already dressed in a white shirt and black slacks, looking so damn suave and fresh.

The memory of what he did to me caused me to shiver.

“I’m making myself at home.”