Taken By Terror - Lolita Lopez Page 0,86

for anything that happened once inside. She glanced at Terror who gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

They passed through the double doors and into a wide-open space with muted lighting. The main floor of the club was decorated in shades of purple and gray with gleaming dark wood accents. There were bars on each side of the room as well as seating areas. Toward the rear of the space, there was a grand staircase that led up to a second floor with multiple hallways.

She read the rules posted just inside the entrance in large and easy to read font in a handful of the most common languages. The diagrams next to the rules showed where certain types of kinky fun could be found in the club. There were some terms on the floor plan she didn’t know, but she couldn’t ask Terror without attracting the wrong kind of attention.

Completely new to this experience, Maisie trusted Terror to lead the way. Holding her hand, he weaved through the crowd to the nearest bar and ordered them both drinks. As they waited for the bartender to finish mixing them, she indulged her curiosity. All around them, people were laughing, touching and drinking. Some of them were more amorous than others. Everyone looked happy and carefree.

For one night, she wanted to feel that way. She wanted to have a drink, maybe dance and definitely do wild, wicked things with Terror. She didn’t want to think about the Splinters or Devious or any of the other bullshit that threatened their lives. She wanted to live.

Terror touched her arm and handed her a glass of something outrageously pink and fizzy. She cocked an eyebrow, and he said, “Trust me.”

She sipped the cocktail, expecting the unpalatable sear of black-market booze or the sour, stale bread aftertaste of beer. Her eyes widened as the delicious burst of ripe berries bubbled across her tongue. She grinned at Terror and took a bigger sip of the drink. He seemed pleased as he tasted his own glass. It was clear like water, but she could smell the alcoholic fumes wafting toward her. The corners of his mouth tightened when he swallowed, and she could only imagine how much it burned going down his throat.

With his hand on the small of her back, Terror led her to an out of the way oversized club chair. He sat first and then patted his lap, beckoning her to perch like a pretty little bird. She settled in, scooting back until they were pressed as close together as possible. He draped one arm around her waist and let his hand curve along her thigh, his fingers brushing featherlight along her sensitive skin.

Any higher, and his hand would move enough of her skirt out of the way to show everyone in the room that she was bare underneath. Somehow that made her feel even more excited. It was naughty in the most wonderfully delicious way.

As she enjoyed her drink and his body heat, Maisie watched the crowd. She couldn’t hear the music, but it was so loud and had enough bass that it thumped through her chest. Some of the dance moves on the floor were vulgar, but no one seemed to mind. After a lifetime tucked away and forbidden from having any kind of relationship, Maisie found it jarring to see other couples touching and squeezing and kissing like that. Admittedly, she was a bit jealous of their freedom.

The combinations of trios and even quads intrigued her. Two men or two women together wasn’t anything unusual. Seeing three and four lovers dancing so sensually left her pondering the logistics of such a relationship. Was there jealousy? Did they share equally? Were some things off-limits? What happened if they wanted to have children? Did they share responsibilities? Or did their arrangements only extend to the bedroom and nowhere else?

For a moment, she tried to imagine having two Terrors to love her. As intense as he was, she wasn’t sure she could handle that much attention. I think one is enough for me.

But was it enough for Terror? He had spoken of his love for her in absolute terms. He wanted her and only her. Thinking of how much experience he had, she began to fear that she might not ever be enough. Sometimes, he overwhelmed her with his rough, fiery passion. She could see how easily he might grow bored with her.

She glanced back at him, and his eye sparked with understanding. It was as

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