Page 6 of The Darkest Hour

“Thank you.” I reached out, opened the door, and stepped into a space that was nothing shy of pure decadence.

The air was heavy with the scent of new leather and orange spice.

The decor was otherworldly, a fever dream of extravagance and sensuality.

Glass panels were embedded into one wall, revealing the silhouettes of actual naked men and women as they moved seductively in front of shifting lights, putting on a show just for me.

They were part of the decor, living art installations meant to tantalize and intrigue my senses while I fucked to my heart’s content.

This was what a $100k-a-night room provided on the island.

Not bad.

Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The crystals caught the light and scattered it in a thousand directions.

On the other side of the room, four women stood in a line, their bodies adorned in black lace that hugged their curves and revealed tantalizing glimpses of skin.

Their long hair cascaded down their backs, framing their seductive faces. Their makeup was bold, lips painted a deep red and eyes lined with smoky black.

Soon, I would mess all that up with my cum.

Mmmm.

However, there was that moment again where I scanned my surroundings with heightened awareness, every sense on edge, as if expecting danger to strike at any moment.

I’m safe here. Remember that.

I closed the door behind me, locking us into our private world where the erotic promise of ecstasy hung in the air.

A massive bed dominated the center of the room.

A large plastic sheet covered it.

On a small table next to the bed, there were tons of empty water bottles.

Perfect.

I took my jacket off along with my holstered guns, I swept my gaze over the women. “Good evening, ladies.”

Each one was a vision of beauty, but it was their eyes that captivated me—eyes that held a hint of wickedness that mirrored my own.

“Good evening, sir,” one of them purred. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Is that right?” I stepped closer, my towering figure casting a long shadow over them. My muscles tensed with controlled power—a predator surveying his prey. “I trust you’re ready to entertain me?”

They nodded.

“Who drank the most water?”

The first woman approached, holding out a length of red silk rope. “I did, sir.”

I checked the other side of the bed. Another small table held a small blow torch, blindfold, several knifes, paddles, and whips.

The woman held out the red silk rope. “May we?”

I smirked. “Of course.”

But it wasn’t me they intended to bind.