Corrupt Prince by Ivy Mason

Nine

I was hella uncomfortable.Not only were my boobies popping out of this tight velvet bra, but the panties were riding up my ass.

"What are we doing?" I hated being in the dark about everything. I trusted Coulter enough to be in the car with him right now but the images of those girls on the screen had my stomach cramping.

"I need you to do something for me."

I crossed my hands across my chest and turned to stare at him. “I’m not fucking someone.”

He glanced at me, a half smile on his face. "That's not the kind of favor I'm talking about."

“Then what?"

“I’ll tell you when we get there."

"Why?" I gripped the car door handle, considering jumping out. We were stuck in the middle of downtown Vegas traffic, and cars lined up in front of us at the stoplight.

"Because." Coulter reached forward and grasped my chin, turning my face towards him. "Aster, be a good girl and trust me."

I snapped my teeth at his fingers, catching one in between them. I bit it softly. "I don't like being a good girl."

“Then pretend you can behave until I can trust you enough to bring you to Rose.”

"Maybe you're the one who needs to learn to trust me and just tell me right now." I wrapped my tongue around his finger and pulled it into my mouth, sucking on it.

Why I couldn’t stop myself from flirting with him was beyond me.

His face jerked towards mine, his eyes landing on my lips, where they sat, frozen.

He tasted forbidden. The shadowed man leading his little nightmare to hell.

He sighed and pulled his finger from my hold but, instead of putting it back on the steering wheel, he wiped my saliva across my lips. I flicked my tongue out, tasting his finger again but he lowered his hand to my neck, wrapping fingers around it. His thumb sat on the knot of my throat, pressing there.

I tilted my head upwards, allowing it. Inviting it.

There was something so dominant about him when he did that to me.

It commanded my attention, demanded my obedience.

It also made my heart race.

I liked it.

“Tell me.” I stared into those beautiful, troubled eyes, demanding the truth. “Why am I dressed up like this?”

“I need you to seduce the truth from someone.”

“I said—”

“I said seduce, not fuck.”

“Who?”

“A woman. She’s a doctor, and an up and coming Nevada senator’s wife. She has information I need, and you're going to get it from her."

A doctor and a senator’s wife? “Seriously? Me?” I was all for using sex appeal to get what I wanted, but I’d never tried it on a woman before.

I was trying to ignore the feel of his palm across the sensitive pulse of my throat and the way it made my cheeks flush.

Thank God it was dark out.

"Yes.” Squeeze. “You."

"Yeah, I’m not doing that." I put my hand over his, slowly lowering it from my neck, and turned away from those golden eyes that captivated me. Instead of arguing with me, Coulter parallel parked in between two cars, then turned off the car.

I stared out the window, watching the people crowded around a man drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. I watched him curiously, trying not to think about the tension filling the car.

"I think you will, Aster.” Coulter’s voice was calm and confident. "I think you will, because you need to do it for your sister."

“You keep saying that.” I jerked my head back and twisted in my seat towards him, narrowing my eyes. “Maybe you’re lying just to get me to do what you want."

He shook his head, the golden mop of hair fell into his face. My cheeks heated again as Coulter's hand went to my shoulder, his finger tracing softly over my collarbone. “I’m not lying."

He traced his finger down my collar to the swell of my breast.

Pressed against Coulter’s warm body at night, handcuffed to the bed, I’d had a sex dream about him last night. The image of him hovering over me flashed through my mind, the thought of him sliding in and out of me while I was still tied to the bed, helpless to stop him. I was growing wet just thinking about it.

This man was dangerous. Too goddamn sexy for his own good.

I flicked my tongue out, wetting suddenly dry lips. “Then tell me, what's it for? How will this help Rose?”

I couldn't see his eyes, they were shrouded in the darkness of the car, but his finger continued to travel in between my breasts, making my nipples perk.

“When Rose, Bourbon, my brother, and I arrived, my father took some of Bourbon's blood. You're going to find out what he's going to do with it. You’re going to convince the doctor to tell you what.”

I sucked in a breath as his finger began to move down to my stomach towards the vee of my thighs. "And how am I supposed to do that, when even you couldn’t?”

“By now, she'll be drunk. Buzzed, at least.” A shoulder came up. “Her husband’s asked for a woman for his wife. You're a woman. Seduce her enough to get her to open up to you.”

“I don’t know if I could do that to a woman.”

“If she’s into women, you can. Even if she’s not…” His hand moved to my side, his fingers wrapping around my waist. He finally looked up, staring into my eyes as he slowly pulled me towards him. “You’re beautiful, Aster. Sensual. My own personal nightmare.”

My cheeks burned at his compliment and I pretended like his words didn’t make me purr inside like a kitty. "Why wouldn’t the doctor tell you what she’s doing with it?”

"You would make my life easier if you just obeyed orders without asking questions." He leaned in, cedar and suede and musk filling my nose.

I stared into gorgeous eyes. “I’m not one of your little minions."

His nose brushed over mine. "No, you're my little she-devil, come to torture me."

His lips caressed my skin, nipping right next to my mouth, and I closed my eyes, overcome by the sensation of him. His masculine smell filled my nose. The whisper of his lips spread heat across my chest and a tingle in between my thighs. I was drowning in everything Coulter, unable to come up for air. "And yet, I'm your prisoner, instead of the other way around.”

He stilled, then pulled back. “No more questions. It’s time. Take off your coat.”

I opened my eyes; he was back to the hardened man I was very familiar with. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a strange looking set of handcuffs, this time with a longer chain between the two cuffs, and what looked like a grown up version of a dog collar. “Do as I instruct, and we just may save your sister.”

* * *

The club was crowded,the music so loud that it vibrated through my body like a pulsing, pounding heartbeat.

The air smelled of smoke and lust, coated with sweat and lascivious appetite.

Coulter led me by a chain, one end attached to his wrist, the other to the collar at my neck.

He’d explained that this was one of his father’s special clubs, where back rooms were paid for with hefty fees and taciturn discretion, and that the collar was a form of protection for me.

We made our way through the crowded dance floor, the air hazy with infused smoke and red lights, like the mouth of hell opening up before me. A pit of nervousness grew in my stomach but I continued onward, encouraged by the tugging at my throat.

Coulter led me through wandering corridors and rooms, until finally, we entered a back hallway.

Darkness shrouded over me like a wet, suffocating blanket and I pulled in a sucking breath, trying to see Coulter’s golden mop of hair ahead of me. Blobs of black filled the edges of my vision, the tugging at my collar still insistent, the only thing keeping my feet moving, one after the other.

The deeper I traveled into the belly of this underworld, the more intense the mood became. Fingers tickled my arms and legs, growing more bold. The darkness was too thick, the air too smothering. I couldn’t make Coulter out in the darkness. I couldn’t see anything.

Hands grew more insistent, grappling at my breasts and ass, lewd whispers pressed in my ear. Bodies packed tight against me, forcing me into a wave of indiscernible movement.

Fear sparked, smothering my lungs in a layer of cotton, panic crawling up my throat. “Coulter!”

My panicked words immediately dissolved in the chaos of the sweat and hunger surrounding my senses.

The cuff at my neck still urged me forward and I stumbled, trying to follow the unknown path as he urged me forward.

"Come to have a good time, little kitten?" A presence pressed into my side, a low, coarse voice in my ear. I couldn't see him, but I could feel his fingers sliding down my bare back.

"No, thank you."

There were rules here, of that I was sure.

Safe, sane, and consensual.

“That's not the safe word." Hands slid up over my ass, tugging my bottom with it and baring my flesh to the open air of the club. Lips pressed against my jaw as fingers trickled towards the space between my thighs. “You feel incredible, pussycat.”

I froze in panic, my terror making my feet like lead.

I couldn't speak; invisible claws tightened around my throat.

The only sound in my ears was my own heartbeat, pounding harshly in time to my rapid breathing.

The tugging at my neck turned into a harsh pull, jerking me out of my frozen state and into a firm chest. Fingers twisted into the collar, cutting off my air, stopping my panicked breathing. "Can't you see she's taken, asshole?"

The smell of cedar and suede surrounded my senses, overcoming the sweat and lust-filled air, replacing it with a warm and comforting feeling.

Safety.

I didn't need my sight to know that it was Coulter.

He affirmed it with his low growl by my ear, his fingers tugging on the collar at my throat. “Get the fuck away before I cut your dick off.”

"Oh shit, man. I’m sorry.” The same voice who, only a moment earlier had been coarse and crude, defended. "I can't see shit in here."

“Then you need to get your eyes checked." Coulter growled again. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he pulled me away, not acknowledging the man’s apology. As he hauled me off, his words echoed through the chambers of my mind.

Get your eyes checked…Get your eyes checked…

The hum of safety I’d felt at his reappearance dissipated, the sound of his derision reverberated through the skeleton of my body, clinking against bone after bone after bone.

Get your eyes checked.

Something I’d failed to do and was now paying the consequences for it.

Panic clawed at my throat again, tears rolling down my cheeks. I was losing my sight, with only a slight chance of gaining it back.

I had a genetic disease affecting my retinas. It would eventually affect my eyesight to the point where I would never see the sun in the blue sky, the twinkle of city lights, the bright colors of the flowers in a garden.

With losing my sight, I was also losing the very thing that connected me to my mother: our gardening together. It was almost as if I was losing her for the second time.

I was suddenly drowning.

A sinking mermaid in the depths of the inferno’s fiery ocean.

As we moved, Coulter clutched me so tight that there was no space between me and the prince leading me through his kingdom. It was only because of this that I made my way through the crowd.

Get your eyes checked.

As he sat me down, I choked on a sob, my fingers clutched to my chest. Nails digging into my skin, pain striking like lightning, I tried to force my mind into the present. This isn’t the place for that.

"Aster." A demanding voice in my ear, but a gentle grip on my arm. "Aster." Fingers went to my throat, not squeezing, but grounding me. “Take in a deep breath, baby.” Pain sparked on my thigh, wrenching me to the present. I sucked in a choking breath, and though it felt like sandpaper over my ribs and lungs, I could suddenly breathe.

I blinked and the panicked blackness at the edges of my vision slowly subsided, revealing dim grey and red light shrouding the room.

Deep golden eyes stared into mine.

Grounding me.

“Coulter." My voice choked and I blinked several times, only now registering the concern in his eyes. Gone was the cold, the stoniness of his gaze. In its place, was a man, kneeling between my legs, worry in his gaze.

“Aster, what's wrong?”

I looked away, staring into the dark grey of the club and didn't answer.

I wanted to believe that he actually cared but fear made me press my lips into a firm line, closing up. I never spoke to anyone about my anxiety attacks. "Nothing Coulter. Is she here?"

Suddenly, his fingers clasped my cheeks, turning my face roughly towards him. His molten gaze was back.

"What,” he ground the word out, “happened?" The intensity of his concern softened something inside me but the experience of my past played like a broken record in my mind.

Men only cared when you were fun.

Carefree and happy.

Playing the character that they saw and liked in you, like a wide-eyed, cheerful Barbie, with no sadness or pain.

Anxiety attacks or panicking wasn’t convenient to their schedules.

They had no emotional space for dealing with something like that.

And a man like Coulter, who could switch his emotions on and off like a light switch...I couldn’t open up to a man like that.

We were also in the middle of the club, and he was expecting me to get answers from the doctor.

I swallowed down the words I wanted to say, the burden I’d carried for too long, and lied. “I told you. Nothing."

“Are you sure?” His fingers looped through mine and he pressed the knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly. “You can talk to me.”

I wavered, touched, tears sparking my eyes as relief flooded through me. I wanted to open up to him, to show him all the dark and ugly parts inside me.

But I couldn’t.

I was still too guarded and afraid.

I replaced the openness on my face with the mask I often wore, closing off my emotions and quickly wiping away my tears. “I’m okay, Coulter. Really.” He gave me a skeptical look, so I rushed to find an explanation. “That guy just freaked me out.” I smiled, touching his face. “Thank you, but I’m okay now. Is the doctor here?”

His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes traced over my face. His lips pursed but, after a moment, his fingers relaxed and he looked away, releasing me from his hold. He straightened, sitting on a chair next to me. Wrapping one arm around my waist, he pointed back in the direction of a hallway. “She’s in that room.”

I turned and narrowed my gaze, trying to see what he wanted me to see. "Where?"

“See that row of private rooms?” I nodded, and he continued. “There’s only one with someone standing guard.”

“Okay,” I nodded, part relieved that he hadn’t persisted, the other part of me disappointed. Insistence meant that someone actually cared enough to press me into telling them my truth.

I stood up, stumbling a little on my spiked black heels. With firm hands on my hips, Coulter caught me, balancing me, and I leaned into his steadying touch, taking a deep breath to refocus myself. I dug my nails into my palms, letting the warmth of his hands on my hips soothe my inner demons until I felt a calming center.

“I’m going.” I pushed away, walking towards the room on steady feet.

As I approached, the man guarding the doorway seemed to grow larger. He had a chest as thick as a large tree, arms bulging like small boulders at his side. He was relaxed, as if he was a little bit bored but, at my approach, he tensed, his eyes sharp as they took me in.

He did a thorough once over, not taking in my bikini bottoms or my boobs busting out of my top, but at my legs and hips, underarms, as if looking for a weapon. It was a short check, as I literally had few places to hide anything.

When I stopped in front of him, he stared me down with a stony glare. He didn't attempt conversation, just waited for me to speak.

"Chocolate spice cake." I told him the password that Coulter gave me in the car.

His stance immediately relaxed but his eyes swept over my face, studying me. Once he was done with his second assessment, he stepped to the side and opened the door.

I passed the silent muscle bound dude and stepped into the room. Coulter told me that he would be observing us through a hidden camera feed, though no one else knew about it. I wondered if he’d already pulled out his phone and was watching, waiting to see what I would do.

Grinning at all the ways I could fuck with him, I strode into the room, taking in everything around me.

The room was laid out like a bedroom, with a high, platform bed featured in the center, and sensual, black and white photos framed over it. A plush, blue velvet sofa rested against the black, bricked wall and a crystal chandelier hung from molded ceiling tiles. Blue lights softened the view before me: a naked man on the bed. He was on his knees, with one man fucking him in his mouth and another in his ass.

Even in his position, I recognized him from the picture Coulter had shown me. He was the doctor’s husband, and running for a Senate seat in the next election.

Just for fun, I thought about joining the three men on the bed, only to see how Coulter would react. Clamping down on my smile, I walked deeper into the room.

There was a table on the side, where a lone woman sat, watching them. She was fully dressed, with a tight, white business dress that had a deep cut, making her boobies pop out. Her hair was pulled back into a tight pony tail and she had on glasses. She had the whole, sexy librarian look down pat.

From where I stood, I could only see her profile, but her eyes were riveted on the men on the bed.

It was only when I walked closer that I could see her clearly. Her back was ramrod straight and she held a wine glass to her lips. Not drinking it but only pressing it there. In fact, her lips were closed, pressed into a firm line. A mixture of sadness and love filled her gaze.

I sat in the empty chair next to her and she startled, her eyes widening.

"Oh, hi. I didn't expect you so soon." Her fingers fumbled with the stem of her glass and she hastily set it down, the drink sloshing. She glanced at me then looked away, shifting nervously. "I've never done this before."

"Done what?" I picked up the new bottle of wine and poured more into her glass, then took a sip.

It was plush, smooth velvet down my throat.

I took another sip, and tilted my head at the threesome going on in front of us. "Watched your husband have a threesome with two men?"

She chuckled humorously, taking the glass from me amicably and took a long swig, shaking her head. "No, he's been with other men since before we married." She stared at them as they adjusted positions, not paying any attention to us. "He wants me to participate this time but I've," she glanced at me, taking in a deep breath, "I've never been with another woman."

I smiled to reassure her. "So it was his idea?" I nodded at her husband, "and you agreed? Did he have to talk you into it?"

“I think he feels bad and he thinks this will make it better.” A shoulder came up. Suddenly her eyes darted to me, panic in them. "It’s not that you're not beautiful or anything..."

“It's okay," I took her hand, my need to comfort her overcoming any shyness between us.

Her eyes fell to my hand, my thumb stroking her skin. When she looked back up at me, there was an openness there, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. She leaned forward, her eyes falling to my lips. “I’m willing to try it though…”

Knowing I had to gain her trust, I lifted my hand, pressing my thumb to her lower lip. Then I leaned in and kissed her, inwardly smirking at the thought that Coulter was watching.

Her lips were soft and sweet from the taste of her drink but, there was no chemistry between us. She stilled, not returning the kiss, so I pulled back to look into her eyes. She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. “Sorry.”

Smiling, I shook my head. "There's no reason to force it. We can just talk."

Her shoulders relaxed and she leaned back, newfound respect in her eyes. "Okay."

"So," I leaned back in my chair, taking another sip of her drink, then tilted my head towards her husband. He was wrapped in an embrace with the two men, taking turns kissing them. “Why do you put up with it?"

Her eyes moved to him, sadness filling them once more. She laughed humorlessly. "Most people would think that I'm doing it for the money or the prestige--"

"There's no judgement here," I cut in. "We all do things that, from an outsider’s perspective, others might not understand."

She nodded. "I’m sure you might know that more than anyone."

She was referring to the fact that she thought I got paid to have sex with other people. I just nodded in response, not answering.

She smiled grimly. “I really love him, you know?" I nodded my head, gripping her hand in a comforting gesture. "I've known him since we were in high school. We were best friends. I saw how he struggled with his sexuality. He doesn't even want to be gay."

"That's why he hides it like this?"

A shoulder came up. “That, and people would never accept a gay senator. Not when we got married anyways, though the world is changing. But serving in Congress has always been his dream.”

“I can understand that. Sometimes we just need hope and that’s enough.” I nodded. "And you? What about your happiness?"

"I am happy. He's my best friend. Of course, I wish things could be different," her eyes suddenly hardened, "but I learned a long time ago that we don’t always get what we want.”

I opened my mouth to agree, when suddenly the door to the room slammed open, startling us.