Collision

He'd broken away from everyone else and found a secluded balcony facing the lake. She watched, waiting for the right moment. No one else passed by, most guests had no idea this balcony existed. His drink was two thirds of the way gone and she had a fresh one ready. It was the best way to approach him. When men came here they expected their needs anticipated. They wanted the complete catering to their desires and egos that comes with innumerable money and power, and these particular men were a breed unto themselves, with power unlike anyone else.

He took a large sip of his drink and put the glass down. Placing both hands on the railing he looked out into the night. The lights from the dock were barely visible, but the dim lights around the property lit up the area festively, and carried on the breeze, were those enjoying the evening from the veranda, just out of sight. The mansion was a place of pleasure and vise, and their party of forty had the entire house to themselves. Food, drink, music, dancing and everything else that could be imagined, was theirs for the taking, along with the bodies of young men and women. One of her matrons called them offerings, like they were part of a meal, which she figured they were. It was the appetites of these men they existed to sate.

This night was what she'd been groomed for. It could be wondrous or awful depending on the man, and the majority of them made her stomach flutter with unease. They were predators, even without knowing what she did, that was obvious in every gesture and every look. But he was different. She'd watched him with the others, making them laugh. She could tell while many of them didn't like one another, they all liked him. His smile and laugh were infectious and he showed a kindness to their offerings that made her want him to be the one.

He finished his drink, and she ran a hand through her loose brown curls, her copper highlights, catching the light. Her makeup was perfectly done to appear as if she barely had any on, making her green eyes pop, especially against her slightly almond complexion. She was the perfect blend of her Saudi Arabian mother and Irish father. Her red wrap dress and heels made her hair and eyes stand out even more. None of them were dressed like whores in a bordello, they looked classy and elegant, something these particular men liked. Their appetites were all over the scale, but they always wanted the appearance of class and sophistication.

Stepping out from the behind the pillar, she walked the short distance to the balcony. Just as she was about to offer him the drink he said, "I was wondering how long you were going to skulk in the shadows."

He caught her by surprise and then she remembered, they could hear more than the average person. He'd known she was there the entire time. Fixing a sultry smile on her face, she stepped up beside him and held out the glass. "I thought you might be ready for another."

"Thought I might be ready or waiting till I was ready?" he asked, standing up straighter. At his full height he had to be 6'3, maybe even 6'4, and burly, with a barrel chest that dwarfed her. His dark blond hair was cut short, and his blue eyes focused on her with thinly veiled amusement.

She looked at him coquettishly through her eyelashes and held out the drink. "You caught me."

He looked like he was about to laugh, but took the drink. "Thank you..."

"Laurel," she said automatically, and almost lost her smile. Her real name hadn't slipped from her lips in a long time.

"And why dear Laurel are you stalking me this evening when there are men inside who'd love the attention of such a beautiful young woman?"

"You're not like them," she said, her slips continuing. "I mean to say...you're...you..." She floundered, and he took a sip of his drink trying to hide his amusement. "You have kind eyes," she said, throwing caution to the wind. "And I was hoping for kindness tonight."

He was puzzled for a moment and then it dawned on him what she meant. "A virgin," he breathed, looking her over, not with longing, but regret. "And what do you want to happen Laurel? A night of whatever I choose? What if that means hurting you? What if that means making you scream?"

She looked into his bright blue eyes and said, "That's not who you are."

He barked a laugh and said, "It's exactly who I am. I'd produce women to back me up, but I killed them. All except one, and she wouldn't step foot in this place."

She could see the truth in his eyes and for a moment she felt afraid, but behind the bravado was so much pain and sadness, the fear melted away. "It's not who you are now," she said, resting a hand on his cheek.

He regarded her with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. When she stepped closer, he gently but firmly removed her hand and stepped back. "You don't know me, and I have no interest in taking you to bed. You're a beautiful girl, you'll have no trouble finding company."

"I want you," she said.

"Ah, the innocence, the pouty lip, you're good. But you're feminine wiles are wasted on me."

He started walking away and she watched his back for a moment then took a chance. "The except one, you're in love with her aren't you?" He turned around surprised and she said, "Your heart is in your voice."

"You're very astute Laurel," he said, suddenly suspicious. "Did Fisher or maybe Antonio tell you to seduce me? Spill secrets to a young nubile girl; it's an old trick, and I'm not that foolish."

"No," she said, taken aback. "Only a few of us were chosen for specific men, the pretty king, jovial giant, snake, dark heart, and the cold one. No one was chosen for you."

He instantly went from suspicious to amused. "The jovial giant," he chuckled. "Solomon. Snake and dark heart I can easily figure out, but the cold one...ah, David. Not as cold as he appears, although he's cultivated it well."

"Scilla and Amber are flummoxed. He's barely acknowledged them since being introduced. The cold shoulder is all they're getting."

"David's a one woman man, and from what I've ascertained over the past few days, one woman is already in his life. Those men have names you know."

"We aren't supposed to know names. If we hear them, we're to immediately forget them. To say them out loud is dangerous, although there isn't a man or woman among us who doesn't know the name Alexander. Honestly, pretty king takes away some of the fear." He raised an eyebrow and she said, "Not all who are chosen for him return."

He shook his head and looked back out at the night. "Alexander gets what he wants."

"Where is she?" she asked softly.

He was silent and she thought he wasn't going to answer. "Far from here," he said without looking at her.

"She must be extraordinary."

"Yes she is."

She picked up his drink and stood before him. "You love her, but she doesn't love you."

He glanced at her and she offered him the drink. He took a long pull and walked back the railing. She stepped up beside him and leaned on the stone, enjoying the soft kiss of the breeze.

He was quiet for a long moment and then softly said, "She never will. I am reaping what I sowed." He downed the rest of his drink and put down the glass.

"Never is a long time," she said, resting a hand on his.

He laughed under his breath and said, "Yes it is. And she likes me, now anyway, it took quite a few years to get there, and honestly I never thought she would. That in and of itself says more about her than me. That she could come to like a man she so thoroughly despised, and with good reason, shows unfathomable kindness. But to fall in love with me, to let me touch her..." He shook his head and focused on the lake. "It will never happen."

"You hurt her."

Closing his eyes he gripped the railing even tighter. "I devastated her," he whispered finally.

"I'm sorry."

"For me?" he said, looking at her. "Don't be."

"For both of you."

He was genuinely surprised and she let him go, her own memories jumping to the fore and making her heart ache. Love destroyed and twisted into hate was something she was very familiar with. Its destruction was how she'd ended up here, where love was an illusion, a commodity bought for a day or a night. "I'm sorry to have bothered you," she said. "I overstepped my bounds and should have listened instead of pestering you. Please forgive me."

She turned to go and he grabbed her hand. "No more interest in seduction?"

She tried to pull her hand free but his grip was like granite. She kept her eyes on the ground, her façade in tatters.

"You're never supposed to let personal feelings interfere. It shatters the illusion."

"I said I was sorry," she breathed.

"Look at me Laurel." When she hesitated he cupped her face in hand he said, "Look at me."

Taking a deep breath she met his gaze.

"Never leave yourself vulnerable, not here, not among us. Lock away your past and your pain so they can't be used against you."

"Like you?" she asked.

He stroked her cheek softly. "We all have our crimes and our ravages."

"Is that why you've avoided taking comfort in the arms of an offering?"

"Offering?" he said, arching an eyebrow. "I suppose that's a fitting description. It strips you of your humanity in just the right way. And I don't take comfort in the arms of anyone. Not for quite some time."

"Why? Because of her? If she'll never love you, then-"

"Bad memories," he said, letting her go.

"You've sentenced yourself to a loveless, lonely life and you don't deserve that."

He smiled wryly and said, "You're sweet Laurel." Suddenly he was looming over her, and when she instinctually tried to step away, he grabbed her arm. "There was a time I would have taken you. I would have broken and owned you, and you would have loved me for it."

"That's what you did to her."

He nodded and said, "Except she never loved me. She never stopped seeing me for what I was, for what I am."

She didn't respond, just studied his eyes. After a moment she slipped her arm from his grasp and took his hand. She started walking, and he didn't resist, even though she could see the doubt and confusion on his face. Leading him through quieter halls, she opened the door to her room. When they walked inside he stopped. It was a simple room, with a king size bed, a Jacuzzi, a dresser and bureau, and through a door at the back was a small bathroom.

"Why are you so determined to bed me?" he asked, his eyes glassy.

Suddenly vulnerable all over again she looked down at the floor. Taking her face in his hands, he raised her eyes to his. The anguish was bared to her and she knew he was risking himself letting her see it, so she couldn't lie, not to him. "I and a few others were saved for this very night because of our virginity. We were coached and trained to be the perfect fantasy, innocent with just the right amount of smutty. A temptation to be indulged in." Tears welled up in her eyes and when she tried to look away, he held her fast. "I will lose my virginity tonight, and I knew watching you that you wouldn't hurt me. A couple others were eyeing me, and I knew they would, I could see it in their eyes."

"I can't change your circumstances," he said, quietly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not your knight in shining armor."

She smiled and a tear escaped. "I know. But you can save me tonight."

Laurel stared into his eyes as she rested her hands on his, and then dragged one down. When she reached her breast, she pushed it into his hand and lightly squeezed his fingers around her. He inhaled deeply and gently squeezed all on his own. A rush coursed over her skin, she really did want him. Shaking his head he pulled his hand from her breast.

"Let me save you too," she whispered.

"Me? From what?"

"I don't see a monster. I see a man alone and in pain."

The struggle in his eyes deepened and the anguish returned. The bad memories were tearing him apart, and she found herself truly wanting to help him forget, at for a little while. Turning her head into his hand, she kissed his palm. When she looked at him all the packaging was stripped away, it was just her. A young woman, a childhood once filled with love, shattered by spiraling forces out of her control until she was orphaned by violence. She'd run, being pursued by an uncle who wanted to rip her from this world and lock her away, strip her of her humanity and force her to marry a man twice her age. Fisher found her and brought her here with the promise of something better. She just had to be his hostess for twenty years, ten human, ten like them, then she would be set for life. So she'd signed the contract and learned to be a fantasy.

Laurel let go of his hand, she wouldn't push anymore. Another couple tears fell from her eyes, and instead of letting her go, he grasped her face more firmly and drew her to him. Very tenderly he wiped the tears away with his thumb. His gaze drifted over her face, and for the first time she saw the yearning become longing for her. His lips touched hers almost hesitantly, like he wasn't certain of himself, which made her wonder just how long he'd been celibate. His was a species of vice not virtue, and restraint was a hazy concept they discarded at will.

His uncertainty disappeared and the tender kiss grew in heat and hunger, until a fire was kindled within her. Running a hand down her back he held her pressed tightly to him as he kissed his way across her neck, whispering the things he wanted to do to her. She shivered and smiled the kindling stoked with every syllable into a simmering fire. His hands were large and strong, moving over her body with skill and a tenderness that bellied his size. When her dress pooled around her feet she was taken aback, she hadn't even felt him untie it. He stepped back and drank in the sight of her in a red lace bra, panties, and open toed pumps.

"You're breathtaking Laurel," he said, his voice filled with admiration.

She blushed and then stepped forward and started unbuttoning his shirt. He looked at her the whole time and then slipped his arms out the sleeves. Solid muscles rippled across his chest, arms and abs, and she took him in with as much admiration as he'd shown her. "Impressive," she purred kissing his chest and sucking a nipple into her mouth.

He let her explore for a bit and she could see the stiffness get larger in his pants. When she pressed herself against him she could feel it. He suddenly grabbed her hands and placed them at her sides. She looked at him curiously and he only smiled. The air changed and he slowly and reverently took off her last articles of clothing. When he dropped her bra, the air thickened around her and her already heated arousal rocketed. Her pumps came off and she felt close to high, his pheromones enticing and bewitching.

The older and more powerful they were the more potent their pheromones were, but with age and power also came skill for those with the strength and determination to learn control, and he was in complete control. She could smell the undercurrent of power layered with the masculine sexual arousal that was caressing her senses as his fingers and lips caressed her body.

Suddenly he lifted her up and cradled her in his arms. The way he was looking at her almost brought tears to her eyes. They were two people trapped, playing their parts, while inside they were screaming. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, breaking the submissive behavior rule. Being slightly aggressive during the seduction was fine, encouraged even, otherwise they were to be submissive and let the men take the lead. But with him it wasn't a fantasy, it was real, and she devoured his mouth with a fire she never knew she could feel. He held her even tighter, returning her passion. All at once he laid her down, and as he knelt on the bed she reached out and stroked him, squeezing just a touch at the tip. He inhaled deeply and a rumble reverberated through his chest. She licked her lips and pulled his hips towards her head, resting slightly raised on two pillows.

He only halfheartedly resisted, throwing a leg over her at the last and bracing one hand on the headboard. Laurel took in his length and girth with the studied glance of an expert, and set about making him moan with licks, flicks, and kisses. She was indeed a virgin, but not orally. All hosts and hostesses went through one year of training and one year of practice. For virgins, vaginal and anal penetration were off limits until their debut, but orally she'd been thoroughly trained to please and had put that training to great use. But he was the first one she'd ever been eager and excited to please. Running her tongue down and up the considerable length of his shaft, she stroked his balls and swallowed almost every inch of him. He groaned and grabbed the back of her head, his hips bucking forward. Keeping her lips tight around him, she pulled back until the head of his cock was resting against her lips and then devoured him again, taking more of his considerable length down her throat. She'd had an intense gag reflex when she'd arrived at the mansion, now she could take him in without any trouble, and she did, loving the feel of his cock filling her.

His hand curled in her hair until it was clenched and he said, "It's been so long I can't hold back sweetheart. If you-"

She nibbled on the head of his cock and he gasped, his hips spasming. She grabbed his ass with both hands and pumped his cock furiously into her mouth. In less than a minute his heavy breathing and moaning was accompanied by thrusts, neither of them holding back. All of a sudden he held her hair in two fists and semen poured down her throat. She squeezed his ass and opened her throat more so on his final thrust he filled her to the hilt. Shudders traveled up and down his body and he chuckled under his breath.

He eased his grip on her hair and slowly withdrew. As his cock left her mouth she gave it on last suck, eliciting a half laugh half groan. "Trouble maker," he said, quietly, the smile in his eyes full of wicked promise. He looked over her body and for the briefest moment his eyes shone. "My turn."

Turning the table on her, he licked and kissed his way down her body until he settled his head between her legs. Wrapping his hands around her thighs he opened them wider and dove into her folds stroking and sucking her into an exquisite oblivion. She cried out and clenched his hair as he kept her bucking hips still, his mouth ravaging her until her cries were all she heard. Her hips were lifted and the pressure of his tongue and fingers undid her. She came so hard tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes.

When he finally let her go he took one long last lick, making her tremble, and said, "That was just the appetizer Laurel. Now the feast."

Before she could say a word he moved to the soles of her feet and with a feathery tough and kisses worked his way back up her body. Finding each and every one of her bonfires he set them alight, stoking her arousal until the ache between her legs throbbed. She not only wanted him, she needed him. He took hold of her face and drove his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste her own juices. She only ran her hands through his hair and pulled him onto her loving the weight of him.

There was a slight discomfort, a small pinch, and then his hips were pressed to hers, his entire length inside her. He saw the look on her face and said, "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head completely stunned. "No. There was no pain at all. I thought the first time always hurt, that it was unavoidable."

"Not true," he said, smiling. "But it's a truth for many because the ones they're with are inexperienced, careless, or only focused on themselves." He smiled and kissed her, his tongue dominating, coaxing, and teasing. "I'm focused on you Laurel, and making your night special."