Arran’s Obsession (Body Count, #1)

The pulse of the music moved through me, my spirit rising, a natural high battling the sour mood I’d picked up from Arran. I’d made the mistake of nurturing the cosy feeling he’d given me, excited to show him how I’d looked after my makeover, then gutted when he didn’t react.

Hadn’t he told me he’d be faking?

I had no reason to be pissed off with him, and yet there it was, a tight ball in my belly. Returning to the city was making me remember who I was. The song thrilling me—‘Cola’ by CamelPhat and Elderbrook—one I’d play when I sped through the city on my scooter, was bringing me back to life. To Arran, I was nothing more than a combination of an asset and a liability. He liked fucking me but he hated having me around.

My hurt bled from all the little stab wounds I endured every time I thought we’d made a connection. None of it was real. Why was I pretending to myself?

After a while of losing myself in the DJs mix, I was gasping for breath, overheated. Lara grabbed my hand. To dance with me, she’d stripped her waistcoat, leaving her in a skintight hot-pink slip and the black-and-pink shorts of her uniform. Hot as fuck.

She indicated back to the table. Drinks? God, yes.

We returned, and I took the cocktail glass in front of my place and knocked it back. Arran had called it an espresso martini. All I tasted was the caffeine. Absolutely delicious.

Then I chanced a look at Arran. His gaze found mine, but still that coldness held.

It made even less sense how my body cried out for his, and I rejected the pull. As if he felt it, too, his focus slipped down my form. It delivered images of sex. Me flat on my back and him thrusting into me. Me on my knees. His hands all over my skin.

A rush of anger slid through me for all I wanted and that would never be mine.

“I want to go to Divine now,” I called over the thumping music. “You don’t have to come.”

Arran barely reacted. “I’m taking you.”

“Wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

Those eyes of his were almost black. “I said I’d give you the tour, and I’ll fucking do it.”

Right. Because the show had to go on.

“Fine.” I spun on my heel and stalked away.

Back down the steps from the VIP area, I stomped, Manny dashing past to take the lead. Then a hand grasped mine hard. Arran, demonstrating his possession to all.

We left the club for the quieter corridors, crossing the central office space for the strip club entrance on the other side. But I’d been here and had seen all of that. I needed something else. My buttons to be pushed. My knowledge of his world to be complete.

I stopped him. “Upstairs.”

His eyes held a challenge, but he gave a shrug and changed our direction for the stairs. Another passcode opened the door. My heart was in my mouth. It felt like the longest time ago that I’d had the third part of his business in my sights. Since I’d snuck around and been on the other side of this world. Now, I was tits-deep in it.

Temporarily, my brain supplied.

Before we entered, Arran gestured to Manny and Lara, indicating for them to return to work. Lara squeezed my fingers quickly then trotted down the corridor, Manny going the opposite way.

Leaving Arran, Shade, and me to climb the steps.

At the top, the atmosphere shifted.

I’d wondered so much about this part of the warehouse. How it operated, who was up here, though not what they got up to. I had a good idea of that.

We entered a muted, darkened space. The private strip rooms Alisha had shown me downstairs had padded walls and low lights. This was like that on crack. Thick, plush velvet gave way under my heels, the corridor stretching in both directions. Low, hypnotic music played in the background like a heartbeat. Still gripping my hand, Arran took us left, and we passed several rooms, all closed to prying eyes.

At the end, the space opened out into a wide room with a bar. Women stood or sat on chairs, some in skimpy outfits, others almost naked, and on the bar were baskets of shiny packets and small bottles. Condoms and lube, I realised. Wow.

A lift opened, and a man exited. One of the women stepped forward to greet him. He said something to her, and she led him to a group of younger women. With his hands shoved in his pockets, he nervously indicated to one who bounced on her heels then beckoned for him to follow with a coy smile.

Arran put his lips to my ear. “This is where the clients enter. Anyone who comes up here has been vetted by my team and permitted membership. They want to fuck, or watch others fucking.”

“Vetted?” I asked.

“We make a file. Test results, headshots, background checks, and full payment upfront.”

The doors to a stairwell opened beside the lift, two men emerging this time. A slender woman with huge boobs held in a tiny gold bikini beamed and moved to claim them. The first, a man in his thirties and in a sharp suit, cupped the back of her head and spoke in her ear. She pursed her lips then centred herself on the other man who was perhaps ten years younger.

Then she kissed him.

As they locked lips, the suited guy crowded her from behind, one hand grabbing her breasts, the other cupping her between the legs. He pushed her bikini bottoms aside and revealed her bare pussy, fingering her right there in the centre of the room. She smiled into her kiss with the first man then broke away to whisper something to them. The three disengaged, and she brought them by a hand each in our direction, passing us to enter the corridor.

I wondered how they chose who went first. She didn’t mind them both touching her. Obviously I knew things like this happened, but I’d never seen it.

I stared after them then twisted back to Arran. “Did they get a two-for-one deal?”

Not even a laugh. “Tammy specialises in double penetration. Her regulars come from all over the country. The older man is a regular and has brought several different men in with him. Business partners, he calls them.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Weird way of deciding who to do business with.”

He just watched me. “Seen enough?”

I hadn’t, not really. Witnessing men buy sex wasn’t all that hot, even if my body was responding and warming up, my dress too tight and my skin tingling.

At my headshake, he exhaled and turned us around. The whole time, Shade had waited by the far wall. The fact that neither man had reacted in any way to the bounty of semi-naked women or the smell of sex in the air spoke volumes.

They were immune to this. I wanted to be as well.

At the next door down the corridor, Arran showed me in, Shade remaining outside. It was a theatre, with pairs of loveseats arranged in front of an erotic movie, full sex playing in black and white on the screen. In the seats, couples kissed or groped each other in full view of each other, some copying what they were watching, one older guy getting blown by his lady.

Arran squeezed my hand in question, but I shook my head. This still wasn’t enough.

We left, and he took me inside the next entrance. This was different again. A room ahead behind panelled glass, clear in front of us but blacked out the rest of the way around, and doors to the left and right. Behind the glass, two women were under a spotlight on a velvet plinth. Both were glamorous in full makeup and with gorgeous hair, their completely naked bodies gleaming. Arran opened the door to the right, revealing a private booth. He locked us in and sat on a leather sofa, waiting on me. I perched next to him.

An announcer spoke over the PA system. “Kissing with nipples pressed together.”

Behind the darkened glass that separated our booth from the central area, the two women rose upon their knees and followed the instruction, slow caresses of each other’s breasts until their nipples met, their tongues tangling at the same time.

A shot of lust burst through me. I wanted my nipples played with and hot kisses, though not by another woman but the hulking man at my side. Except he’d never do those things for my pleasure, just his own. It had only happened when I was unconscious.

After a while of their display, the announcer spoke again.

“Scissoring.”

The women adjusted their positions. They brought their pussies together and started grinding, going slow, and both moaning.

My breathing turned shallow, and my lips parted.

Damn, they had skills.

“Blondie, lie back. The other woman should stick her tongue in her cunt.”

They shifted again, one reclining so her hair draped off the end of the plinth and touched the floor, the other making a show of spreading her legs and dipping her tongue to her wet pussy.

Arran’s voice made me jump.

“In the other booths around us, people are bidding on the next instruction for the couple onstage. The winning bid is what gets read out. A good money-spinner.”

I imagined the single men behind each of the other panes of glass, all with their dicks in their hands. Or maybe buried in a bought partner.

“Want to place a bid?” He indicated to a small screen and keyboard just beyond the sofa.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I kept my focus on the sex show.

Arran reached and picked me up, setting me down on his lap. I took a shocked huff of breath but relaxed back. If he wanted to be an armchair again, fine.

At another instruction from the announcer, the woman on top turned to face the other way, kneeling over her co-worker in a sixty-nine position. She returned to tonguing duty, and the one below palmed her ass cheeks, grazing her fingertips over the other woman’s pussy.

Damn, this was sexy as hell.

Arran slid his hands down my thighs then parted my knees, spreading my legs over his. Then he widened his knees so my dress rucked up high. My breathing came faster. The women couldn’t see us, I was certain. I couldn’t make out even an outline of any other person behind the darkened glass panels. That didn’t mean this felt normal, exposing myself to two people having sex.

Under me, Arran was hard.

I wriggled, getting a bolt of pleasure at his soft exhale into my hair. His fingertips grazed the tops of my thighs.

“Bring in two men for them to suck on,” the announcer said.

There was a short pause, then a door opened and two naked men entered the space beyond the glass. The women both sat up, smiling. A buff guy with a shaven head circled the two, his dick rising from half-mast to fully erect, his colleague’s already there. Buff-Guy stood in front of the blonde woman and rubbed the head of his dick over her lips. The second woman took the initiative, pulling her man in with a happy, obviously faked sigh and her tongue out to guide him deep in her mouth.

At the other side of the plinth, the second guy wasted no time in thrusting home.

My breath hitched, my pussy wet and my body wired for sex. Under me, Arran pulsed, and I sank heavier onto his body, picturing us doing more than the actors were demonstrating. Him jerking into me. Filling me. Stretching me so wide.

Arran rolled his hips.

“Remembering my lips around your dick?” I asked.

If he said no, I’d die.

He laid a slow kiss to the side of my face. “You blew my mind, so yes, I am picturing that. I want something from you.”

“Sure you do.” Except I wasn’t here to serve him. He’d taken and taken from me. I didn’t care if this was turning him on. In fact…

I leaned to grab the keyboard, tapping in my instruction.

“You’ll need to add a pin. Two-seven-six-eight,” he growled against my neck, then delivered an open-mouthed kiss to the juncture with my shoulder.

I entered the code at the prompt, a timer showing me how long I had to place my bid. It looked like two-minute intervals. In my mind’s eye, I imagined all the other bidders hustling to advance the sex show into something more. The obvious next step was both women getting dicked down, but there were so many other ways this could go. Maybe both men fucking one woman. Or the women both servicing one guy. What to choose.

But I’d woken up today and chosen violence.

Hiding my smile, I tapped in my ridiculous amount then turned the screen away. If Arran wanted to give me twenty grand a week, good for him.

“What did you ask for?” Arran murmured.

“Something just for you.”

He thrust against me. “Is it what you want from me?”

“Wait and see.”

The timer counted down, the women sucking away, moans and groans and ecstasy on every face.

Then the announcer returned. “The women take five and the men kiss.”

On the plinth, the four gave each other surprised glances but stopped. Dicks left mouths, and the women slipped out of the door. Now, only the men remained, the two dudes locking lips, their wet dicks standing to attention but untouched.

In every other booth, I pictured outrage. Furious men jumping up to leave, or maybe frantically putting in a counter bid.

I cracked up, cramming my hand to my mouth to keep in the sound though my shoulders shook. Then I risked a glance up at Arran. “Sorry to ruin your fun.”

But there was no frustration in his expression. Only the same dark need that I hadn’t ruined with my guy show. “Thanks for the bid on my behalf, but what made you think my fun involves what’s out there?”

I pressed against his erection, grinding my ass into him. “This says otherwise.”

Abruptly, he grabbed my hips and spun me around so my knees landed on the sofa either side of him, my core right above his lap. My dress was around my waist, only the thin material of my gauzy underwear covering me.

Arran slid one hand to my backside, the other cupping my face to make me look at him. “I want free use again.”

“I guessed that,” I breathed.

If I followed the demands of my body, I’d let him do anything he wanted right now. Lay me back, strip me, and fuck me right here. But I’d been there and done that. It wouldn’t end well.

“Is that a yes?”

Slowly, painfully, I shook my head, my teeth gritted, and my body rebelling. “No.”

He worked his jaw. “Why not?”

“No is a complete sentence. I don’t have to give you a reason.”

Jumping up, I climbed off him, unwilling to risk something stupid like changing my mind.

Arran lurched to the door, but I exited faster. Back in the corridor, I tugged my skirt hem to make sure I was covered. Down the way, Shade lifted his eyebrows, but I had no attention to spare for him. Instead, I moved further down into the club.

Arran’s voice chased me. “That isn’t your scene, Genevieve.”

How would he know? I barely understood where my sexuality started and ended, and I’d be damned if he dictated it.

Busting through an exit at the end, I discovered a wide-open area, this one busy with people, two thirds women and the rest their male clientele, and a few couples in between. Some propped up the bar, drinks in hand, but most were involved in some kind of sex entertainment. Golden cages hung from the ceiling, naked women dancing inside to a seductive beat. A woman and three men were putting on a live show on a floor-level stage, the woman blowing one guy and getting fucked by the other. I squinted, wondering what the last guy was going to do. He got under her, one of the others tipped lube down her, then he thrust inside her ass.

Holy shit. My cheeks flamed.

A quick glance behind me showed me Arran and Shade had stuck close by, which despite everything, I needed. Unlike in the other spaces, this was full audience participation.

One of the nearby cage dancers beckoned forward a watcher, a younger man who had his hands behind his back as if not quite knowing what to do. The caged woman smiled and rolled her hips over the array of brightly coloured sex toys in her cage. Then she turned her back and spread her legs, moving to the beat that filled the room, the invitation she’d given plain. They were there for use in fucking her.

At the side of her cage, another man groped her tits, feeling up her pierced nipples. She craned her neck to kiss him.

The nervous man’s nostrils flared, and he stepped up and put his hand through the bars to collect a large pink dildo, holding it for a moment, his gaze stuck on the juncture of the woman’s legs. Yet he didn’t move. Like me, he was caught up. Probably new to this. Then another sex worker came up behind him and pressed on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. He sagged and closed his eyes then frantically nodded.

She put her arms around him. Together, fingers interlaced, they took the toy to the caged woman’s core and rubbed it up and down. Then they pushed it into her, spreading her pussy lips wide. The woman moaned and broke her kiss, her twisted ecstasy so hot to witness I had to look away.

Around the room, couples pressed together on sofas, some of them clearly sex workers, some in fetish wear, but others apparently normal couples who’d just come here to play.

Wide-eyed, I wandered through, taking it all in. Around a corner, a wall with the sign Glory Hole above it had a series of holes at groin height, presumably to stick dicks in judging by the guy palms flat to the wall and his trousers around his ankles.

Further on, a man was chained to a table, his chiselled, dark-skinned body bucking under the attentions of the woman fucking him. Two guys stood watching them, then one reached out to touch the man’s mouth, his other hand frantically moving inside his trousers.

A corner of cushions had an orgy going on, then there was a series of private rooms with peepholes, like I’d seen down in the strip club.

I tiptoed over and peered into one. A woman stood over a man on a covered mattress. She peed on his face, his tongue out for the yellow stream.

I recoiled. Okay, one of my limits had been found.

The room continued on, a sign on the wall giving me a clue as to what went on deeper down. Breastfeeding room. Fantasy rooms. Swings. Torture rooms.

A sign on one hall read: No clothes beyond this point. No refusal permitted. I inched away.

An arm curled around me. Arran. “Want to head back downstairs now?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Come on. You’ve seen plenty,” he said.

“Don’t presume.”

“All right, then I just want you alone.”

“And I want anything but that.”

Overheated and in increasingly desperate need, I broke free of him and stalked to an alcove with a strange kind of upright cross on it. “What’s this?”

The X-shaped cross had padded corners at the extent of the arms, and restraints on each.

A woman drifted over, her gaze touching the men behind me then coming to me. “This is a Saint Andrew’s cross. Would you like me to show you how it works?”

I nodded, and she backed up to the frame, demonstrating how the user would be tied onto it, arms out wide above her head and legs spread. “The occupant is restrained at her wrists, ankles, and around her waist.”

“So she can’t stop anyone from touching her?” I figured out.

She gave a pleased smile. “Exactly. She’d wear a mask to add to the sensory effect. She can’t see whose hands, mouth, or other parts are on her, or in her, but she can feel everything. If you tie me up, the three of you can play. Or you can hop in and I’ll show your guys the ropes.”

She trailed a finger down my arm. I sensed Arran behind me.

“That won’t be necessary,” he stated.

The woman startled. “Oh my God. Mr Daniels, my apologies. I didn’t recognise you in the shadows.”

She climbed down at a scramble, ducking her head to back away.

But she’d piqued my interest, and I touched the edge of the frame.

“I want to do this,” I said.

There were people nearby. Lurking men and so many working women. I was losing my mind with need and at the same moment wanting to piss off Arran more than I could say.

He made a sound that was a mixture of a growl and pain. “Letting anyone here grope you?”

“Why, what do you care so long as you’re one of them? You don’t give a damn about me.” I dropped my voice so only he could hear. No need to let the room guess we were in a lover’s spat.

His lip curled, his shoulder muscles rigid. Likewise, his response was just for me. “You’re right, I don’t.”

Hurt curled inside me. Fuck him.

With a swish of my hair, I climbed onto the Saint Andrew’s cross, beckoning to the helpful woman to tie me on. It was just about my size, and I adjusted my position as she tightened the wrist restraints, the sensation of having my legs so wide alarming.

My dress barely covered my ass.

My heart beat so fast, but I wasn’t backing down.

“How about the mask, honey?” she asked.

I nodded, and she collected a black eye mask with skeleton print.

She tugged it over my head, but I paused her so I could lift my chin in challenge at Arran. “Well, what are you waiting for? You wanted your hands on me. Come and get me or let the rest of them have a go. I don’t give a tiny fuck which you choose.”