Pool of Desire

(Joe’s POV)

The salon smells used to hit me like a wall; too many competing florals, chemicals; but now, with my senses sharpened, I could sift through them effortlessly. Vanilla curled soft and warm around me, lavender soothed like a slow exhale, jasmine teased from somewhere deeper in the room. Every note landed clean and separate, relaxing me in a way I’d never experienced before. I’d tagged along for Emily’s mani-pedis plenty of times, but I always stayed in the lobby, scrolling my phone, waiting. Today I let myself sink into the plush recliner, robe loose around my shoulders, hot towel draped across my face like a warm, damp kiss. A long, contented sigh slipped out of me. “I could get used to this.”

Laughter rippled around me; light, feminine, appreciative.

When Skye peeled the towel away, her baby-blue eyes were waiting, swimming in that heavy smoky shadow, pupils wide. Her dark burgundy lips shone wetly as she smiled down at me, slow and almost shy. It felt obscene that someone this stunning existed in real life, let alone three of them. Skye, Kayla, Cherry; each one looked like they’d been pulled straight from the most decadent editorial spreads. My mind raced, framing them: Skye arched against marble, pierced nipples catching light; Kayla’s curves spilling over black silk; Cherry’s tiny frame bent forward, heart-shaped ass presented like an offering. Hundreds of motifs flashed behind my eyes, each one filthier than the last.

I smiled up at Skye, and heard the tiny, involuntary gasp that escaped her parted lips. Her breath hitched. Emily and Iris exchanged a quick look across the room; I caught Iris’s knowing smirk, Emily’s pupils dilating as she bit her lower lip.

Skye leaned over me to reach for the shaving-cream bowl. Her pert breasts pressed firmly against the crown of my head, lace bra dragging across my damp hair, her pierced nipples unmistakable even through fabric. She shifted, lost her balance for half a second; and her palm landed flat against my bare chest, fingers splaying wide through the open V of my robe.

Heat shot straight to my cock.

She jerked back almost instantly. “Sorry,” she whispered, cheeks flaming.

I felt my face heat too. Emily had never seen another woman touch me like that; not in front of her, not so openly. For one dangerous heartbeat I let myself wonder what the rest of Skye’s body would feel like pressed against mine, slick and eager, those long legs wrapped around my waist...

Then the world stopped.

Time froze. The air thickened, charged. The familiar doorway to my Domain unfolded in front of me, a perfect rectangle hanging in midair, promising everything.

I rose from the recliner. Emily, Iris, Skye, Kayla, Cherry; all of them locked in place, statues of beauty mid-breath, mid-motion. I walked past them without a word and stepped through the glowing threshold.

The transition was instant.

Marble floors stretched beneath my bare feet, seamless and cool, veined with gold. High columns rose into a vaulted ceiling open to endless blue sky. In the center of the space a large, rounded pool recessed into the floor, water swirling lazily, steam rising in delicate curls. The walls parted into lush villa gardens; hanging vines, blooming jasmine, sunlight filtering through leaves, birds calling in the distance. Ethereal. Timeless. A private Eden built for sin.

At the far edge of the pool, a massive reclining chaise waited; gold frame, deep crimson cushions, sized for a king. Or, more accurately, for me.

In the water, three figures materialized.

Skye, Kayla, Cherry.

Sheer silk robes clung to their wet skin; translucent, useless as cover. The fabric molded to every curve, every dip, every hardened nipple. Skye’s barbell piercings glinted beneath the soaked silk; Kayla’s full breasts rose and fell with each breath, dark nipples stark against pale fabric; Cherry’s tiny frame looked almost fragile, the robe riding up between her cheeks.

They stood in perfect unison, water streaming down their bodies in slow, glistening trails.

Skye stepped forward first. She climbed the shallow steps out of the pool, water sluicing off her long legs, cascading down her taut stomach, dripping from the silver charm at her navel. Her blue eyes burned into mine; hungry and submissive.

The others flanked her, hands resting lightly on her shoulders, three willing members of a harem.

Skye stopped a single step away from me. Water pooled at her feet. She tilted her head, wet pink-and-black hair clinging to her neck, droplets sliding down the column of her throat.

“Hello, Master,” she whispered.