Illicit Passions (Den of Sin)

T
he Den
of Sin is a multi-author shared world series. That is to say although each story is unique and the author voices are different, the rules are the same, so the fictional Hotel Beaudelaire is always familiar.

E
ach story stands alone
, though there may be some character overlap and recurring themes. The stories need not be read in order, but they may reference past events and previous guests of the Hotel Beaudelaire. To learn which stories are connected, please visit the Den of Sin website at
http://www.denofsinseries.com
, click on a story title in the menu, and scroll down to the section titled “Related.”

P
aige Houston is a bookworm
. Reading is her escape and the hotter the plot, the better. Unlike the heroines in her sexy stories, she has had little luck in the romance department. Her sorority sister dares her to indulge in a one-night stand at a secret club where strings are never attached and holds are rarely barred. Paige's adventurous side won't allow her to pass up the opportunity.

C
orey Shelton has
his hands full these days. After inheriting a car repair shop from his late grandfather, he's been working day in and day out on a business re-launch. He has no time for needy women and he'd encountered a string of them in this town lately. When one of his most respected clients convinces him to fill out a matchmaking profile to attend a secret den of sin, he blindly agrees.

W
hen Corey gets
the invite to the Hotel Beaudelaire along with a note from Paige about her erotic fantasies, his libido goes into overdrive and he has to have her.

W
hen Corey Shelton
was first introduced to the prospect of attending the annual Bacchanal event at the Beaudelaire Hotel, he'd thought nothing of it. Partying a couple weekends a quarter was a pastime that allowed him to clear his mind and relax his nerves. There was always something going on in the city of New Orleans, which was located just a few dozen miles south of his hometown, and it was no big deal for him to make the drive out to enjoy himself once in a while.

According to his cousin—who'd referred him to the establishment in the first place—this wasn't a regular party. Several times a year, the hotel turned into a den for playing out one's sexual fantasies.

As Corey brought his truck to a halt into one of the parking spaces in front of the hotel, he looked out of his window at the splendid sight before him.

The property on which the Beaudelaire sat was massive and was said to have been a little over an acre. About two acres of undeveloped land surrounded the hotel. The grounds were immaculately kept and well manicured. In conjunction with the hot and humid season, the floral arrangements consisted of colorful tulips, azalea, and hydrangea bushes. A pristine waterfall arrangement in the center of the driveway seemed to be the grand display aside from the hotel itself. There was no doubt that only the finest building materials and embellishments were used in both the construction and renovation. Square footage of the hotel and surrounding buildings were said to be well over 50,000 square feet with 100 guest rooms and suites. It was not made clear how many other rooms or levels the hotel contained, especially for these private sinful parties. Except to those members like his cousin who frequented the Den, the many levels were a well-kept secret.

Nothing about the exterior of the Beaudelaire gave the impression that people came here for something as scandalous as a one-night stand in a hotel filled with strangers indulging in the same. From what he'd been told, the interior held a different story altogether.

Corey took the key out of the ignition and stuffed it down into the duffle bag sitting next to him. He didn't need much when it came to overnight stays. Hell, he hoped he was intrigued enough by the event to stay. Bottles of wine wouldn't keep him satisfied for the whole night, but the personal note from the woman matching his profile detailing her scandalous fetish certainly might.

He swallowed down his reserves, grabbed his bag, and exited the truck.

P
aige Houston's
palms grew moist as she tightly clutched her room keys. She'd changed from her usual business attire into a dress, so her rising heat wasn't because it was hot in the room. She was nervous, very nervous, as she walked into the main ballroom where the dinner celebration was being held to kick off the Bacchanal event. This was also the moment that she was to meet her match—the man who would accompany her for the duration of her stay.

In the days right after the invite had been presented to her to attend the secret event, Seraphina Gibson had called informing her that the profile she submitted and detailed request for a companion had produced a match. Of course it had been up to Paige whether she came to the Den and profiled men freely, or if she already had one lined up. She chose the latter.

There was a VIP corner sectioned off in the ballroom where the tables were numbered. She was instructed to proceed here if she wanted to follow through with the pre-arrangement.

Her heart thumped erratically as she maneuvered through the tight clutter of small round tables. She reached a podium where an attendant took her name and confirmed that she was on the list to enter the section.

"Right this way." Another attendant gestured for her to move forward into the dimly lit ballroom.

As she passed by, it seemed that she wasn't the only one who had elected to indulge with someone matching her profile or "secret admirer" as Seraphina had called it.

Paige glimpsed a lone stranger seated in the corner at the back. She caught the gaze of the blue-eyed man at the same time she realized he was seated at the table where her number was displayed prominently. 67. He was handsome as all get out. The plain physically written profile hadn't done him any justice. She could have been staring into a tranquil deep blue sea for his eyes calmed her instantly as she came to a stop by the table.

The man rose from the table and her stomach did a double side flip. Adrenaline pumped through her quickly even though she was rooted to the spot. Compared to her five feet seven inches sleek frame, he looked like a linebacker. Dark brown hair was groomed nicely on his head. The five o'clock shadow on his face added a touch of edge to his boy-next-door appearance. Just like her, he was dressed up appropriately for the formal dinner hour. His profile said he was a blue-collar worker, did not sit behind a desk, and used his hands every day in his profession. At the thought of hands, her gaze dropped to Corey's hands. They were big and calloused.

Paige licked her bottom lip and her gaze roamed up to meet his enchanting stare.

"You're truly beautiful, ma'am."

Her pussy warmed at the southern drawl in his deep-toned voice and the row of pearly whites behind those wicked grinning lips.

She swallowed. What was she supposed to say? Oh, for goodness sakes. She was finally here to fill out her fantasies, but she was clamming up.

His smile widened. "My name is Corey."

"I'm Paige."

"Paige..." he whispered. "Nice."

Like a gentleman whose parents had obviously taught him manners, he came around to pull her chair out for her. She sat down clumsily and dropped her room key on the table. He pushed her chair under the table and went around to take his seat.

"Wine?" he asked, lifted a bottle of chilled Chardonnay from the ice bucket.

She nodded and watched as he filled her glass halfway. She lifted it to her lips in a hurry, hoping that the beverage would wash down the frog that was obviously stuck in her throat disabling her ability to hold a conversation like a normal person.

"So, Paige..." His gaze shifted across her face. "I've been eyeing the buffet out front, but nothing on it looks as delicious as you."

Her panties dampened and she almost choked on the wine sliding down her throat.

This man's voice was an instant panty wetter, and she had just become a willing panty dropper. Wasn't this what she had come for? She crossed her legs and tried to simmer her heated pussy. All that did was cause the walls of her sex to clench...absolutely nothing...when she would rather it clench the big thick head of a cock.

She realized that she hadn't even responded. Not in words, at least. She'd promised herself to shake off her uptight exterior at the door and play out her fantasies just like one of the heroines in her romance novels.

He tilted the rim of his glass to his lips but never took his eyes off her. His Adam's apple bobbed as he drank. He downed the whole glass in a few gulps. His lips looked striking when wet and the telltale signs of the wine coating them had thoughts flying around in her head about what that mouth could do to her.

She only had to act the part of a wanton sex fiend for one night. For one night, she would be naughty Paige. Plus, she wanted to fuck him...badly.

He placed the empty glass on the coaster, leaned back in his chair, and lifted an eyebrow. "I'm very hungry."

There was a time and place for all things. This was a place where all inhibitions were left at the door.

“What are you waiting for, sir?" She matched his southern drawl with a tease.

"Yes ma'am." Corey rose from his chair, taking her hand gently and lifting her to stand. "Let's say we indulge and get to know each other in your private suite. Break the ice...and then see where that takes us."

"Follow me."

C
orey couldn’t help
but to linger a step or two behind to enjoy the view. Paige's written profile hadn't done her any justice. She looked better in person than she sounded on paper. Was this the same woman or were tricks being played on him? His matchmaker said she was the brainy-type with a Ph.D., had never been married, and had no kids. The short dress she wore with the thin fabric hugging her backside told him that she had a different side to her and perhaps it was the side she wanted to explore with him further today.

Her skin was soft and rich like caramel. Luxurious brown hair was cut in a blunt chin-length bob with cinnamon highlights running through it. She was pretty and fit, yet sporting curves in all the right places. He especially loved the way her ass filled out the skirt so effortlessly and the way her legs moved sensuously as she walked a couple feet in front of him. She was a gem in this hotel. He'd made his observations about the place and people within it shortly after checkout. He and Paige had known a bit about each other's fantasies weeks prior, courtesy of the profile match. He was glad he'd taken his cousin up on this opportunity. He only hoped that he didn't make any moves she disagreed with.

Paige stopped in front of her door. Her back was facing him as she fumbled in a small purse for her hotel room keys. "I can't seem to find my keys. I'm sorry." Her voice was shaky.

Was she really nervous or trying to get rid of him? Maybe she'd had a bit more time to contemplate the situation and his presence a little more. Maybe she was having second thoughts about their planned fantasies.

He placed his hand on the small of her back. She turned slowly, glancing at him with such innocence that he wondered if he was the one making her uneasy. After all, could he really satisfy these wicked fantasies of hers?

Corey swallowed. "No need for apology. Relax. We can always go back down for another key. Or head up to my room. It's the next level up." He cleared his throat. "If you still want to go through with this, of course. I'll understand if you don't find me attractive."

Not only did he find Paige attractive, but her fantasies and the quick written facts about her only fueled his curiosity.

She laughed nervously and her eyelids fluttered. "Are you kidding me? You're very attractive. I didn't expect...well, I don't know..." She bit her bottom lip and paused to search his face as if she were pondering her next words. "Your card said you didn't work behind a desk. That you use your hands for a living. I expected..."

He tilted his chin and fixed his gaze on her. "Someone rough around the edges?"

She smiled and nodded curtly.

"I've always been a business man first, Paige, but conducting business doesn't always mean suiting up every day for a nine to five, indulging in company paid luncheons, and answering emails all day long."

"I see." She blushed again.

"The suit and tie was mainly for you in expectation of the formal dinner, but my question to you is...would you rather me give off a false persona or be myself."

"Be yourself, of course."

Her lips were plump and kissable. She almost whispered when she spoke, but he wondered if she'd whisper like that with his cock driving in and out of her. He liked that her face wasn't painted drastically with makeup. After all, he was a natural beauty, and he preferred his woman that way. Natural. Everything about her was. No fake breasts or enhanced ass. It was all her.

Dammit, Corey. Your mind is in a naughty place.

"I promise to be myself if you promise the same," he said.

"I'm not sure I would be able to keep a promise like that," she replied.

"Why not?"

"I catalog books for a living. Does that sound exciting to you?" She pursed her lips and stared at him blankly.

"You can make anything exciting, Paige?"

She smiled and shrugged. "That's why I'm here with you, for that matter. I want to experience excitement...other than for my love of books."

"So, do it. Promise to be yourself here tonight and I will aid you with the excitement part of it."

"Okay. I promise. I just need to loosen up. Maybe a drink or two might help." She licked her bottom lip. "I just remembered... I think I left the keycard on the nightstand. Obviously I don't do this very often. Hook up to have a one night stand."

And that made her all the more interesting. He smiled wildly. She was so innocent and intriguing. Her voice was lovely. Her beautiful face and voice were one of the only things keeping him calm right now.

Corey chuckled. "Is that what you think, Paige? That this will be a one night stand?"

"Well..." she cleared her throat "...given the arrangements I don't expect anything else. I'm sure people don't come here looking for lifelong commitments."

"I'm sure you're right, but we're not those people. We have our own agenda here tonight, don't we?" They were only a few inches apart, and he took her hand in his and kneaded her palm. "My room has a view of the cabana. It's nice. We can have a few drinks to loosen up so I can discover more about the real you...what you like, how you like it. How does that sound?"

"That sounds like a plan."