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Vince Buchanan was a restless beast without a discernible outlet. His sharp gaze wandered the dim haze of the opulent underground and exquisitely private club, Malvagio, and a mildly amused but ultimately dissatisfied smile curved his lips as couples in various stages of undress fondled and teased one another with abandon. The sounds of gasps and moans mingled with the wild thump of the gothic music pumping in from hidden speakers and an occasional muffled scream echoed from a play room. He could easily imagine what was happening behind one of the few closed doors because often, he was the one meting out the punishment for the lovely subs begging for the kiss of his lash or the slap of his hand on pristine flesh. Was there anything sweeter than the sound of flesh meeting flesh and the resounding cry that followed as a round, bountiful ass jiggled from the impact? Vince didn’t think so. He loved a woman’s ass — more so after his palm had heated it. Malvagio was his den of iniquity, his blissful acceptance of sin in its myriad of forms and the balm to his ragged psyche — most nights.
Tonight was not one of those nights.
His life as of late had turned to utter chaos and not even the promise of a good, dirty fuck could set things right again.
He sighed and threw back the scotch in his hand, attracting the attention of his friend and fellow business partner, Laird Tiechert, who’d previously been enjoying the talents of his favorite pet, Sapphire, which wasn’t her real name, of course, but her Malvagio personality.
“Saff,” Laird drawled, motioning to Vince before he downed the contents of his own tumbler. “My friend could use a pick-me-up. He’s been pouting all night. I’ll bet you can put a smile on his sour face.”
Sapphire, a young woman born to ridiculous wealth and perennially bored with all life had to offer by the tender age of fifteen, had finally been invited to Malvagio for her eighteenth birthday. The invitation, of course, had been secret and received with breathless anticipation as an invitation to the underground club was a closely guarded honor. And thus far, Sapphire hadn’t disappointed her sponsor. The succulent little harlot had a tight body, loose morals, and an insatiable appetite, which ordinarily would’ve represented Vince’s favorite qualities in a woman but these days, he was completely out of sorts. He blamed his brothers. Laird grinned as Sapphire, clad in a sapphire choker, matching heels and little else, knelt before Vince and her nimble fingers plucked at his trouser button, eager to free his cock for her greedy, red mouth but even though he enjoyed the idea of having his cock sucked immediately after the woman had sucked off his best friend — such a perverted bastard he was — his cock barely stirred.
“Someone doesn’t want to play?” Sapphire pouted when she saw his flaccid cock.
“Maybe another time,” Vince said.
“Maybe you just need some more encouragement,” she countered with a coy smile and Laird chuckled.
Before Vince could dissuade her, Sapphire’s lips covered his soft cock and a riot of pleasurable sensation followed. Laird signaled for the hostess and ordered two more rounds, all the while Sapphire sucked and licked, dutifully trying to rouse his cock. Although his member finally sparked to life, Vince knew it would take a while before he’d come because his mind wasn’t engaged and gently disengaged Sapphire with a smile. “Darlin’, it’s me, not you,” he said and she climbed to her feet with an unsure expression, her gaze darting to Laird as if she were afraid she’d displeased him. “Laird, assure your pet, her talents are sweet. I’m just in a shitty mood.”
Laird sighed and nodded, reaching to pull her close by her collar. “I will punish you later,” he promised in a dark but silky tone and then slapped her on the ass, sending her away.
“You’re such a cruel Master,” Vince said, chuckling. “Go easy on her.”
“Don’t worry about Sapphire. She puts on a good show but she loves getting paddled. She is the quintessential brat with daddy issues. God, I love her. You’re missing out,” Laird warned playfully, his gaze following his pet as she made her way through the throng of people to a private room to await her master. “So, what’s really eating at you? I’ve never known you to turn down a blowjob from one of my pets. You know I have discerning tastes and would never offer you anything of a sub-par nature.” Laird’s expression turned to mock fear. “Good God, you’re dying, aren’t you? Joining the priesthood? Or worse yet, still whining about your little investment going down the drain thanks to that pesky older brother of yours?”
“Don’t talk about Dillon or Penny. The walls have ears and besides, I don’t even think about Penny that way anymore.”
“Because she’s about to burst with your brother’s progeny or something else?” Laird asked solicitously. The man was an incorrigible bastard and one of the many reasons he and Vince got along famously. “I never knew you to be so squeamish.”
“My lack of desire for Penny has nothing to do with the fact that she’s pregnant, but rather the fact that Dillon would remove my head from my shoulders if I so much as glance at Penny in a sexual manner. And seeing as my relationship with my older brother has only recently become civil once again, I don’t see the point in challenging his orders. Besides, Penny is now like my sister. And I don’t go that way.”
“Pity. Some sisters are hot,” Laird responded with a shrug, his gaze alighting as the scantily-clad hostess returned with their drinks. “Ahh! Perfect timing. Tell me, gorgeous, what’s your name?”
Her big eyes widened and she actually stammered a bit, which Vince found oddly endearing, and he took an extra second to regard the girl. “J-josie,” she answered, placing their drinks on the small table between them. “Is there anything else you need?” Laird patted his knee with a lascivious glint in his eye and the girl’s mouth fell open as she shook her head. “Sir?”
“Darling, have you forgotten where you are? You’re in Malvagio. You can’t play the blushing virgin within these walls because there’s nothing more tantalizing to jaded wretches like us than a woman who hasn’t had a cock between her thighs yet; we might devour a tasty morsel like that…”
“I…”
Vince could nearly see her shaking. The sequins on her hostess costume twinkled in the dim light, winking, as she trembled. Her blond hair tumbled in waves down her back, encouraging a good hold at the scalp, and he wondered briefly if she were in fact, a virgin. Admittedly, he had a thing for virgins — a weakness, one might call it. But, just as the idea sparked his slumbering libido, reality intruded. There was little chance at all this succulent piece of ass was untouched. No one came to Malvagio so sweet. Laird was right; they’d be eaten alive. But she was plainly nervous and Vince wasn’t interested in forcing himself on a quaking girl with little sense in her head for putting herself in harm’s way. “Leave her be, Laird. Go fuck your pet. This one isn’t interested,” he said with a bored drawl, motioning for the girl to be gone.