The Devil's Mark (Book 1)

Chapter Sixteen: Sex, Leather & Chains

Lucifer

The twinkling lights of Los Angeles shimmered in the dark as I leaned against my office window. Bringing the half-burnt cigar to my lips, I inhaled slowly, savoring the smoky aroma as it filled my lungs and calmed my senses. Down below, the streets were lined with people. Each one of them going about their daily lives, living ordinary futures filled with hopes and dreams. My eyes scanned the city blocks with perfect detail as if I was walking amongst them. A young couple stumbled out from behind an alleyway, their laughter filling the air as they embraced in a romantic kiss that made me miss Jason even more.

I turned away after that, stabbing the cigar into the ashtray that sat on my desk. Then I walked over next to the fireplace and pushed a secret button that activated a makeshift minibar from behind the bookcase. Then I grabbed a small glass and a full bottle of my favorite drink and unscrewed the top, pouring the liquid courage until it sloshed over the rim and splattered on the floor. I threw the shot back like it was nothing and found myself sitting in front of the fire. A knock on the door sounded behind me as I called out to whoever was there to come in.

"Mr. Morningstar, will you be acquiring anything else this evening?" My personal assistant asked.

I waved my hand threw the air as I poured another drink. "No. Thank you, Abigail."

"Very well. Have a goodnight, sir."

As the door shut behind her, the sound echoing off the walls, it reminded me of a jail cell locking into place and my office was the prison. I finished off what was left in my glass before returning the bottle to its rightful place and turning gather any personal effects off my desk. When I reached the edge sidewalk, I stared up at the night sky and wondered if Jason was doing the same, if he was even thinking about me at all. No matter though. I can still sense him. See what he's doing. I can even sense his emotions from six thousand, three hundred and twenty-seven miles away. He sounds happy and is enjoying life. What more could I ask for?

I didn't feel the need to go home, why would I? There was no one to go home too since Jason left to go away on holiday in Rome. Instead, I decided to go out and have a bit of fun for a change. Driving northwest, I head into the Hills. The Santa Monica Mountains act as a hillside neighborhood for the elite including movie stars, basketball players, baseball players and business executives. But there's one place where everyone who is everyone dares to go on a Friday evening after such a long week. It is here that membership is strict, masks are worn to conceal one's identity, and that the party's clothing optional.

What is this place you might ask? Well it's quite simple, really. Welcome to Reaper Castle.

A majestic castle with breathtaking views while privacy is their utmost solitude. Surrounded by luscious gardens and nearly half a dozen ivory water fountains, Reaper Castle is truly a timeless piece of royal elegance and grace. As I pull up to the front of the castle, the guests start to arrive in drones of two and three and the occasional single lonely chap who's just here to get his beak wet, or that his significant other doesn't know about his weekly secret visits to a place that deals in swingers, orgies, and my personal favorite BDSM.

I lean over and pop open the glove compartment as my car door opens by a member of the valet team. He greets in welcome as I finish tying on the mask around my face. But once inside, the party is in full swing. Soft music filters from room to room. Couples, some naked while others are not, watch other patrons have sex. A waiter walks by holding a tray as I snatch a glass of champagne and enjoy the view. Seeing their naked bodies move around together in sync with each other, grinding and moaning, really turns me on.

An iron door to my left mysteriously opens up as I go forward and investigate its secrets. Spiraling downward, deep within the catacombs of the very dungeon that I now find myself in, an icy wind shakes me to my core. Torches align on either side of the limestone and stucco walls while the sound of dripping water pitter-patter's on the cobblestone floor. Multiple voices that which I can hear now start to grow louder with each new step that I take. Then I smell the taste of leather, smell the sweat that clings in the air, a man moans in pleasure as a female giggles like a bad little girl.