Page 37 of Wicked Knight

He's walking slowly across balcony, reminding me of the jungle cat again.

Dmitri is too far away for me to read his expression, but I know this guy inside out.

I could be a million miles away and still know what he looks like up close when he’s up to no good. Or when he’s claimed something. In this case, the something isme.

He looks away, focus ahead on the door at the end of the balcony. It leads down to the labyrinth on the basement level of the club.

That's where he wants me to go.

The moment I think that, he opens the door and glances back at me over his shoulder before he walks through.

There's a door down here, too, that leads down to the labyrinth. If I go that way, it will meet at the intersection with the pathway from upstairs.

Swallowing hard, I continue through the crowd, trying to keep my nerves under control and my thoughts focused, but tension is curling around in my stomach like vines.

I rehearsed everything I was going to say tonight, but my mind is a wasteland of words and thoughts and emotions I can’t seem to gather together to help me.

Just keep moving.

Keep going and pray that the words will come.

I reach the door, walk through it, and step into a swirl of black and pink smoke rising from the floor in a sexy, dreamlike haze.

This area is dim, only lit by a warm, faint light just bright enough to just see my surroundings.

The path leads to a wide aisle with glass walls flanking either side. I proceed, and the moment I see naked couples beyond the glass having sex, I realize this is one of the classic exhibitions you’d find the Dark Odyssey.

Those guys are known for wild fantasies. This is one of them.

The people on my left are having an orgy. There are six of them. Three guys and three girls, each swapping partners.

When I was younger, this sort of thing would shock me. It doesn't as much now, but it's no less arousing because it’s so raw and in your face, you can’t tear your gaze away.

I continue down the path looking at the array of sexual fantasies unfolding on either side of me.

I’m almost near the intersection when I see a foursome of three guys sharing a girl.

There’s something hypnotic about their movements that fascinates and stops me. They have the girl blindfolded and her hands bound in front of her while each guy takes a turn to fuck her.

The way she parts her lips and strains upwards speaks of her pleasure.

Watching the way the tallest guy takes her has heat pooling low in my stomach and skin my warm, on fire.

“Have you ever been shared before?” comes a voice from behind me.

The voice curls my insides into my stomach, and I feel the weighted stare before I see him.

It's him. Dimitri.

I look away from the couple and turn to face him. He's standing across from me, leaning against the only concrete wall in this hallway. The smoke swirling around him makes his skull mask look unhallowed and demented.

I look him over, instantly recalling our kiss, but my cheeks are burning from his question. I try to find my voice to give him the answer.

“No,” I reply. That may shock some people because they think I’m into that sort of thing. I may have embellished the truth once or twice to shock my friends, but he just got the truth.

I won't bother to ask him about his sexual encounters. I've heard about them.

I know he’s done pretty much everything under the sun—including sharing.