Page 137 of Decimation

I move to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, my hands roaming her body, exploring every curve, every dip. She is perfect. Flawless. A gift from God.

I spread her legs gently, my hands trembling with need. She is wet, her arousal evident even in her unconscious state. I stroke her cunt, my fingers sliding through her slickness, teasing her entrance. She moans, her hips lifting slightly, seeking more. I oblige, slipping a finger inside her, curling it against that sweet spot that makes her gasp. Her body responds eagerly, her muscles clenching around my finger, her hips rocking against my hand.

I add a second finger, stretching her gently, preparing her for me. She is tight, her body still recovering from the ritual but she takes me willingly, her moans growing louder, more desperate. I lean down, pressing my lips to her clit, sucking gently, teasing her with my tongue. Her body arches, her hands gripping the sheets, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I can feel her orgasm building, her muscles tightening around my fingers, her body trembling with need.

“Come for me,” I whisper against her skin, my voice thick with desire. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

She cries out, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashes over her. I continue to stroke her, drawing out her pleasure, savouring every moan, every gasp. When she finally stills, her body limp and spent I pull back, my own need burning through me.

I strip off my clothes, my hands trembling with urgency. I kneel between her legs, my cock hard and throbbing. I guide myself to her entrance, pressing against her. She moans softly, her body arching into mine, seeking more. I push inside her slowly, inch by inch, feeling the way her body welcomes me home.

I move inside her slowly, savouring every thrust, every moan. Her body responds eagerly, her hips rocking against mine, her hands gripping my shoulders. I lean down, pressing my lips to hers, kissing her deeply, pouring all my love, all my devotion into the kiss. She moans into my mouth, her body trembling with need.

“I love you,” I whisper against her lips, my voice thick with emotion. “You’re mine. My queen. My everything.”

She moans, her body arching into mine, her muscles clenching around me. I can feel her orgasm building, her body trembling with need. I thrust into her harder, faster, desperate to bring her to the edge. She cries out, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashes over her. I follow her over the edge, my own release tearing through me, my body trembling with the intensity of it.

And as I lie there listening to her breathing, I know what my next steps are, what I now have to do.

I have my queen, now it is time to secure my throne.

Now it is time to deal with Ezekiel fucking Sewell.

The Black Orchid Club hums with a low, sultry energy, the kind that wraps around you like a velvet glove. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume, cigar smoke, and the faint tang of whiskey. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room, and the sound of soft jazz mingles with the murmur of conversation. It’s a place where secrets are traded like currency, and power is worn like a second skin.

Leandra walks beside me, her arm linked through mine in a way that feels almost possessive. She’s dressed in a silk black dress that clings to her figure, the fabric shimmering faintly under the lights. Her braids hang loose, framing her face and for the first time in days, she seems… relaxed. Not entirely at ease, but less tense, less guarded.

I glance at her, noting the way her eyes dart around the room. Taking in the opulence, the decadence, the sheer excess of it all. She’s been locked away in the villa for too long, surrounded by silence and shadows. This, the noise, the movement, the life must feel overwhelming.

But she doesn’t shrink from it. She meets it head-on, her chin lifted, her posture straight. There’s a quiet strength in her, a resilience that I admire, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

Jacob, the owner of the club greets us at the bar, his face lighting up with a mixture of awe and deference. I haven’t seen him since that eavesdropping back at the villa. Before I always considered him a bit of a joke, a man who played at politics but never truly understood it. Now, I’m wondering if he is another problem to be dealt with at some point in the not-so-distant future.

“Grand Master,” he says, bowing low. “It’s an honour to have you here at last...”

I wave him off, my tone dismissive. “Is the booth ready?”

“Of course,” Jacob says, his voice eager. “Everything is prepared. There’s a bottle of fine whiskey waiting for you, and your guest has already arrived.”

He glances at Leandra, his gaze lingering for a moment before he addresses her. “And for the lady? Perhaps champagne? Something lighter?”

Leandra looks at me, her expression unreadable. I give her a slight nod, a silent reassurance that she’s free to choose whatever she wants here.

“Whiskey is fine,” she says, her voice steady.

Jacob nods, his smile widening. “As you wish.”

I take Leandra’s hand, leading her deeper into the club. The space is a labyrinth of booths and private rooms, each one more opulent than the last. The stage is occupied by a singer, her voice smooth and sultry, and the crowd watches her with a mixture of admiration and lust.

Leandra’s gaze flickers around the room, taking in the sights, the sounds, the smells. She’s quiet, but I can feel the tension in her, the way her fingers tighten around mine. This place is a sensory overload, a stark contrast to the silence of the villa, and I wonder if it’s too much for her.

But then we reach the booth, and I see the moment she stiffens beside me.

Ezekiel sits at the table, his posture relaxed, his expression calm. He’s dressed impeccably, his suit tailored to perfection, his hair slicked back. He looks every inch the powerful man he is, and I can feel Leandra’s reaction to him; the way her breath catches, the way her body tenses.

“Ezekiel,” I say, my voice cool and measured.

He rises from his seat, his smile polite but distant. “Lazarus,” he says, his tone equally cool. “It’s been a while.”