THREE: Meeting Raguel Whitebrock

 LYRA

Two hours ago, I was full of hope and excitement about how the night would play out, but now, my body was as heavy as lead, and my thoughts were in disarray. 

For the rest of the drive, Aaron had coached me about what to do and what not to do. He told me to do whatever Raguel requested of me and to make sure he was happy, but I just zoned out of the conversation. 

I haven't met Raguel yet but I already hated him for doing this to my marriage. 

My temperature rose when Aaron finally drove through an automated gate into a sprawling mansion in the middle of nowhere. I'd have gotten lost in the beauty of the mansion if my body wasn't trembling at the thought of the nightmare the night already was. 

I stepped out of the car, and the wind blew so hard I stumbled back and had to grab the door to steady myself. The air here was different in a way I couldn't describe, and I could have sworn there was a pair of red eyes in the garden before Aaron rushed over to my side to lead me to the slaughterhouse. 

“Remember what I told you, Lyra: don't be frigid tonight. Fake your moans, fake your orgasms. Scream. Stroke his ego. Do whatever he wants you to do. Just do everything right. Remember, everything depends on how you go tonight.”

“Yes, Aaron.”

I just had to pretend he was Aaron. I just had to close my eyes, and everything will be over before I know it. 

We got to the door then, and before he could press the door, it opened, and a butler welcomed us with a polite smile. 

“Good evening, Mr. Aaron Volkov and Ms. Lyra Davis. Please come in.”

He ushered us into what was the grandest and loveliest house I've ever seen. The sitting room was sprawling, like an actual hall with huge sofas and couches, and everything was made of gold and black. It was stunning. 

“Please have your seats,” he pointed us towards the chairs, “Alpha Raguel will join you in a minute.”

Alpha Raguel? Was that another name of his, or was it a nickname? Well, what did I expect from an older man who requested to sleep with another man's wife as part of a business deal? 

We didn't make it to the chairs when we heard footsteps behind us: slow and commanding. I instinctively turned back, and my mouth fell open at the man who had just descended the stairs and was walking towards us. 

All night, I've thought of what this Raguel Whitebrock could look like, and in all of my imaginations, he was an old, frail man who had too much money and a fetish for using his wealth to sleep with young married women. 

He didn't look like this in any of my imaginations. He didn't look like someone who was about to walk the runway, even though he was dressed in a pair of black overalls. He didn't look like someone who was a blend of Chris Hemsworth and Aaron Pierre. 

He didn't look like someone whose eyes make love to you even from a distance.

 Someone who makes every other presence in the room fade out till you're overall aware of your heartbeat and the blood pounding in your ears. 

“Good evening, sir.”

“Ohh, Aaron. Drop the formalities and call me by my first name. We agreed on that, didn't we?”

“Yes, of course we did,” Aaron spoke in a rush that communicated his anxiety and desperation to please this man, “it's just nerves, I guess. Good evening, Raguel. Meet my wife, Lyra.”

“Ms. Lyra,” he stopped right in front of me, a small, polite grin tugging at the corners of his lips, “I've heard so much about you. It's amazing to finally meet you. And I must say, you look even more stunning in person.”

My tongue remained glued to the roof of my mouth, and my mouth dried even more when he took my hand and slowly pressed a kiss to the back of my palm.

It was slow, sensual, and the feel of his lips against my skin made my body jolt and made a sound bubble at the back of my throat. He kept his eyes on me throughout, and even though the contact lasted less than 30 seconds, it felt like an eternity. 

What the… 

“So about the deal, I'm just going to wait…”

“Why don't we eat first?” Raguel interrupted him without looking at him, and his eyes roamed over the black, long, body-hugging gown I was putting on, “You're dressed for dinner.”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Aaron agreed a bit too enthusiastically, and Raguel led the way to the dining room, where the table was already set for three. 

He put out a chair for me to his right, and his fingers brushed against my bare skin when he pushed back my chair. 

My heart was still pounding, and my body was still trembling, but unlike earlier, it wasn't out of fear of how this night would unfold or the betrayal of how easy it was for my husband to sell me. It was rather out of fear of this visceral need coursing through my veins, this overwhelming awareness of this man who looked like he ran the treadmill and lifted weights for a living, with his raven-black hair and red eyes, and lips that might be well fastened around my… 

Oh my god! I was mortified by my thoughts. I've never been like this, not even when thinking about my husband. 

What is going on? I was panicking inside, trying to make sense of how I felt like a completely different person from the Lyra who walked through that door to the Lyra I became after seeing this man. 

“So, Lyra, tell me about yourself.” Raguel started after the maids left, having served the food. 

“Oh, my wife is from…” 

“I asked Lyra the question, Aaron.” He interrupted Aaron again without looking away from me. I looked at Aaron, and he nodded at me even though he looked a bit wounded. 

“I'm from a very small town near Dallas. I moved to California for college, and that was where I met my… Aaron.”

“And your parents?”

“My parents got a divorce when I was around five, and I was raised by my mother, who still lives in that town.”

“Hmmm,” he took his time to chew with his eyes partially still on me, “so what do you do?”

I glanced at Aaron again. He was practically crumpled in his seat, but he nodded at me to go on. 

“Nothing,” I replied, and forced myself not to think about how stupid it sounded. “I'm a stay-at-home wife, and I sometimes help Aaron with the company.”

“A bit understandable. If I had a wife that looked like you, I would want to keep her hidden forever, but then, I'd also encourage her to build an empire.”

I smiled again as he asked more and more personal questions. I glanced occasionally at Aaron, who nodded at me to keep answering. He was completely left out of the conversation, and whenever he tried to butt in, Raguel would interrupt him. 

Raguel didn't look at him for once. 

I wasn't sure why the conversation was necessary, but I knew that the more I spoke, the less anxious I became and the more at home I felt. The dinner went on forever, and when the plates were finally cleared, Raguel announced that Aaron should see himself to the door.

“I'm just going to wait here in the sitting room while you go to the bedroom to do your… to just…” he couldn't say it, but he lacked the decency to look away from me as my stomach churned at the reminder of what we actually came here to do. 

Was that really going to happen? Would I really sleep with this man? My body might be reacting to him, but it was just a short lapse in judgment. It meant nothing. I didn't want to do this… I can't do this. 

“I wouldn't advise that, Mr. Volkov,” Raguel replied in a cold voice before lifting his head to look at me again, “I have a lot of things planned for your wife. I'm not going to advise you to sit in my sitting room and listen to her scream from the force of the orgasms I intend to give her. That'd be disastrous, wouldn't it?”

The ease with which he said those words made my heart skip as my pussy pulsated and soaked the fabrics of the lacy lingerie while the color drained from Aaron's face. He grabbed an empty glass of water and drank from it as he looked at me, then at Raguel. 

“You didn't have to…” His voice suddenly sounded strained, which was weird because he was the one who brought me here. And he brought me here for exactly that to happen. 

“Hmm, I…” He stood up awkwardly, and I automatically stood up too, “I'm just going to wait in the car then. So we can go home together later.”

“Don't wait,” Raguel replied to him, “Just go home and watch a movie or do whatever because I intend to fuck your wife all night long.”