Empire of Lies
my things from the security check. I rushed outside, stopping when I saw the sea of slow moving cabs. The music was now gone, and I could breathe again. I could also go home and try to forget about fucking up this night.Stepping close to the curb, I held up my hand to hail a cab, but I felt someone pulling it down. A set of hands gently grabbed my waist from behind and spun me around.
“So, this is going to be a pattern with you…” Michael said, smiling. “Running away from things you want?”
“No, it’s—” I shook my head. “It’s a lot of things.”
“Tell me the most important ones.”
“Well, for one, what type of DJ plays Adele at a fucking party? Like what the hell is that?”
He raised his eyebrow.
“What type of best friend tries to talk you out of having sex after you’ve been in a dry spell for two years because she thinks that deep down you want more than that?”
“Do you?”
I didn’t answer that. “I just wanted to get fucked tonight. Really hard, really rough, and then really soft, too. I just wanted to feel something other than the feelings that are in my chest right now, and I was so close to getting it, and—” I stopped talking. I was baring my soul to a man I hardly knew. “Your club is beautiful,” I said instead. “It deserves all the praise it gets in the press and—”
He pressed his fingers against my lips. Then he tilted my chin up with his fingertips.
“The Four Seasons or The Waldorf Astoria?”
“Four Seasons.”
“Penthouse suite or sky suite?”
“Penthouse.”
He clasped my hand and led me into the alleyway that was next to his club. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and the bright lights of his Jaguar flashed in the darkness.
A gentleman, he opened the door for me and waited until my seatbelt was secure before walking to his side of the car.
The drive to the hotel passed by in a hazy blur, and the next I thing I knew, Michael was leading me through the doors of the penthouse suite.
He hung the ‘Do Not Disturb’ hanger on the double doors and made sure they were locked. Pinning me to the spot with his gaze, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He took his time taking the things off completely—teasing me with his every move.
When he was down to his dress shirt, he took his time unfastening every button, and I gasped once his chest was completely bare.
His six-pack of abs led down to a beautifully carved “V,” but the grey and black tattoos that snaked around the sides of his torso took my fucking breath away.
Without saying a word, he pulled me against his chest and kissed the fuck out of me, until my knees went weak under his sensuous assault.
“Ah…” I moaned against his mouth when he finally allowed me a few seconds to breathe.
Sliding his hand against the side of my dress, he grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it down.
Staring into his captivating eyes as he took his time, I held up my arms a bit. He smiled and pushed the dress down to the floor, the green fabric falling to floor in a silken pool.
He unclasped the hooks of my strapless bra and let it fall next, then he kissed my forehead.
I fumbled for his belt buckle, and he let out a low laugh. Pulling out a few condoms from his pocket, he waited for me to finish the job, running his fingers through my hair until I was finished.
The moment his pants hit the floor, my jaw dropped as I caught sight of his cock.
He claimed my mouth once more—making my knees weak all over again.
Lifting me up, he carried me into the living room and pressed me against the windows—my ass pressed against the glass. Using his hips to pin me still, he put on the condom and slid into me all at once, giving me every inch of him.
I cried out as he went deep, as he hit a spot no man had ever hit before.
I gazed into his eyes as his fucked me, and he gazed right back.
He fucked me senselessly. My entire body shook against the glass, and he held me still—pulling me onto his cock a few more times before finding his own release.
He set me down and I shut my eyes, my body still shaking. I felt him picking me up and carrying me, and then setting me down on something soft, laying me across his lap as he ran his fingers through my hair.
He trailed his palm against my back, using his fingers to trail the outlines of the tattoo that wound down my spine, the vine of black roses with thorns that bore small grey cursive with my initials.
“You know that black roses signify death, right?” he said.
“I’m well aware,” I said, sucking in a breath as he gently cupped my ass. “People kept sending them to me long after my mother passed, and I started to actually like them.”
“Hmmm.”
“Do your tattoos have any meaning?”
“Every single one.” He continued tracing the petals on my back.
“Want to tell me what that meaning is?”
“Same as yours,” he said. “Loss, pain, and regrets.”
“Mine are for loss and strength.”
“No…” He pressed a kiss on my left shoulder. “That’s what you tell the people who happen to see them. You’re still obsessed with keeping a bit of the truth for yourself.”
I didn’t say a word. He was more than right, and I felt exposed.
Kissing my back one more time, he rolled me over so I was facing him. Guilt was etched onto his face, or at least that’s what it looked like.
“Is something wrong, Michael?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have fucked you…I shouldn’t have talked to you, or messaged you on fucking Tinder.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Exactly what I said.” He shook his head. “I’ve fucked up, and I never fuck up…”
“If you’re worried about me wanting