Two Months Later
The moment our lips touched, I knew only joy. “I love you,” I whispered against Olivia’s full, soft mouth, my heart pounding in my chest.
“I love you too,” she sighed, the words intoxicating me like a drug. I couldn’t get enough of her. My lips traced a path from her chin, down her neck, pausing to explore the hollow between her breasts before continuing over her ribs and across her navel. With each kiss, I left a mark, claiming her as mine.
As I reached the apex of her thighs, my breath hitched at the sight of her glistening arousal. The scent of her desire filled my senses, making my cock ache with need. I dipped my head, capturing her clit between my lips. “God, you taste so good,” I murmured between teasing nips and licks. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“Marcus,” Olivia moaned, her fingers tangling in my hair, urging me closer.
My tongue slipped inside her, savoring her sweet heat, a taste of heaven. Her hips bucked wildly, her orgasm cresting like a tidal wave, crashing over both of us. I held on, riding it out with her, feeling the intensity of her release reverberate through my entire body.
But I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to be inside her, to feel her wrapped around me. I shifted, covering her body with mine, my hands pushing her thighs apart. As I entered her, Olivia gasped, her eyes opening wide. I paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of her beneath me, so vulnerable and beautiful.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” I groaned against her lips, beginning to thrust into her. She was so wet, so tight. It was all I could do not to lose control right then and there.
Olivia’s legs locked around my hips, urging me deeper, harder. “Please, Marcus,” she begged. “Fuck me harder.”
As if I could refuse her anything. Our eyes locked, the connection between us electric as we moved together, each thrust bringing us closer to the edge. My hands gripped her hips, pulling her against me with every motion, desperate to bury myself completely inside her.
“Come for me, baby. Now. Right now.” Olivia’s eyes locked onto mine as she let out a scream, her pussy clamping even tighter around my cock. The sensation sent me over the edge, and I came with a shudder, our bodies shaking together.
As we lay there, spent and happy, the sound of my phone on the nightstand caught my attention. “Shit,” I muttered, glancing at the screen. “We better get dressed before we miss the party.”
Olivia stretched beside me, her smooth dark skin and curvy form always a welcome sight. “They can’t start the party without the host,” she teased, grinning at me.
“Host and hostess,” I corrected her, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. “We’re a team, Olivia. Everything that’s mine is yours.”
With that, we scrambled to get dressed. I pulled on a tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, and a deep red tie, while Olivia selected a stunning, low-cut dress that matched the shade of my tie exactly and hugged her curves in all the right places. She completed the look with strappy heels and tasteful jewelry.
“Damn, you look good,” I told her, taking her hand as we made our way to the elevator.
“Right back at you,” she replied, squeezing my hand.
The elevator doors opened. The pulsating beat of the music vibrated through my chest as Olivia and I entered Desire, hand in hand. The energy in the room was electric, filled with laughter and lively conversation that melded with the hypnotic rhythm of the DJ’s mix. Multicolored lights danced across the walls and floor, creating a kaleidoscope of patterns that accentuated the decadence of the club. Brand new glittering chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting light on the guests dressed in their finest attire.
I clapped my hands loudly, and the room turned to face me. A waiter handed me a glass of champaign and I raised in a toast. “Welcome to the reopening of Club Desire!” A cheer rippled through the crowd.
“Ready to celebrate?” Olivia asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Absolutely,” I replied, pulling her close. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”
I took in the glamour and luxury we’d created. My reputation had been restored, and it felt damn good. There was a time when a party like this thrown by me would have been avoided by everyone, but all that had changed. A lot of hard work paid off, and I was on top of the world again.
“Marcus!” Tommy called out from across the room, raising his glass in salute. He looked like a mountain of a man, dressed in a slick black suit that showcased his broad shoulders and muscular build. A genuine smile lit up his bearded face, and I nodded back in acknowledgment.
To the side, Ash and Azalea stood huddled together by their equipment, their eyes keenly watching the crowd. Azalea’s vibrant hair seemed to glow under the flashing lights. Rave held court at the bar, regaling a group of captivated listeners with one of his tall tales.
Benjamin, my head of security and right-hand man, stood near the entrance, surveying the scene with a hint of a smile on his face. He caught my eye and gave a nod, signaling that everything was under control.
“Quite a party you’ve thrown,” Gregory said as he entered alongside Jonathan Ware. They made for an odd pair – Gregory’s Scandinavian features and casual demeanor seemed at odds with Jonathan’s polished, prissy aura. The tension between them was evident, and I watched their interaction with interest as they walked together, then split off. Ware made a beeline for a corner filled with stuffy billionaires, and Gregory came right to me.
“Marcus,” Gregory began, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’ve outdone yourself. A well-deserved triumph.”
“Thanks, Gregory,” I said. He had some fucking nerve acting like we were best friends, but it didn’t matter tonight.
My eyes drifting over to where Olivia was mingling with a group of guests. Her infectious laugh filled the air as she effortlessly charmed everyone around her. I felt a possessive pride swell within me – she was perfect. And mine.
“Enjoy the party,” I told Gregory, unable to stand being away from Olivia for another second.
I watched Olivia twirl around the dance floor. The scars from our recent ordeal had faded, leaving her smooth dark skin flawless once again. She was a vision in her form-fitting red dress, and seeing her so unburdened and carefree filled me with a kind of happiness I’d never thought possible.
“Cheers to you, Marcus,” a guest said, clinking their glass against mine. I nodded, my eyes still fixed on Olivia as she laughed and chatted with other partygoers.
A waitress approached Olivia with a tray of champagne flutes, offering one to her. To my surprise, she shook her head with a polite smile and continued dancing. My brow furrowed as I wondered why she hadn’t been drinking lately – it was unlike her to turn down a celebratory toast. Before I could ponder further, a throat cleared behind us and someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, Mr. Moore?”
“What?”
One of the new bouncers – I couldn’t recall his name – shifted his weight. “There’s a man up front asking to speak with Miss Robinson. He says it’s important. Do you want me to have him removed?”
“You know the rules.”
“Of course, sir,” he said.
Olivia reached out and stopped him. “Who is it?”
The bouncer hesitated. “He said his name is George Hughes. He’s not on the list, but he said he knows Miss Robinson, so…”
“Hughes?” Olivia paused, thinking. “That’s Elle’s boss. What would he be doing here?” Her brow furrowed. “This is weird. I wonder what he could possibly want.”
“Let’s find out.” I sighed. “Let him in, but stay close. Tell Benjamin to send a team outside to the parking lot to make sure there aren’t any surprises following Mr. Hughes.”
“Right away, sir,” the bouncer said.
Once he was gone, I led Olivia over to a bench and we sat down. “I’m not sure this is a good idea, Liv.”
She shook her head. “I know, but I need to know what’s going on. Things didn’t end on a great note with me and Elle, but there must be some reason her boss is here.”
I clenched my jaw, but didn’t argue. A man a bit older than me approached. Tall and thin, hair slicked back. His suit was bespoke, but his nerves were clearly on edge, gaze darting around the room.
“Miss Robinson,” he began, practically bowing at Olivia. “I apologize for interrupting your, er, celebration. I’ve been trying to reach you, unsuccessfully. I saw on the news that you’d be here tonight, so… um. Yes, sorry.”
He held out his hand, and Olivia shook it. “Marcus, this is Mr. Hughes, Elle’s boss.”
I nodded, still wary of this man. “Welcome to Desire. How is Elle?”
Hughes’s face fell, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s just it. I was hoping you’d tell me. I haven’t seen or heard from her in months. I tried the police, her family, even a private detective. She’s vanished without a trace.”
Olivia gripped my hand tightly. It seemed there were still some big questions to be answered.