The tranquil Gardens by Lyra Noon
“Office relations are too complicated, so I followed my rich CEO boss to a secret sex club called The Tranqui Gardens“
Chapter 1
Velvet
I followed my best friend down a rocky pathway, past the mansion of a wealthy old man. The path led to a separate building with two enormous black doors. My heart pounded against my ribs, sweat gathering in my palms. I swallowed and forced myself to breathe.
“ID?”
The bouncer was tall and broad, dressed in tight black leather straps that barely covered her nipples and private area. Her voice was flat, bored.
I reached into my purse, but before I could pull my card free, my best friend produced a dark red pass marked with an unfamiliar symbol. The bouncer glanced at it once and immediately stepped aside.
No questions. No hesitation.
We entered, and the doors shut behind us with a heavy thud.
The foyer was nothing like I expected. It felt more like the entrance to a luxury hotel than a club. The ceiling rose into a gleaming dome, a crystal chandelier hanging at its centre, scattering light across gold-and-white pillars. A grand staircase curled upward on either side, leading to two massive doors above.
Paintings lined the walls. Green plants spilled from elegant pots. A tall vintage mirror reflected my masked face back at me.
I adjusted my dark curls and straightened my cat mask. A marble fountain murmured softly in the centre of the room, its calm presence grounding me.
Ahead stood a marble desk. Behind it, a woman in an elegant white dress smiled warmly.
“Welcome to the Tranquil Gardens. Number?”
My friend stepped forward and gave her a six-digit code. Confidential, clearly. I was handed a form instead—guest status, followed by an NDA. I signed and waited as she logged me into the system.
Around us, people drifted in and out. Some lingered on the staircases. Others relaxed in the lounge to my right, sipping cosmopolitans and scotch.
“We can remove our masks after the main doors,” my friend murmured. “It’s optional.”
I shook my head. I would keep mine on. This was not a place where I wanted to be recognised.
“Pick a name,” the woman said, fastening a dark blue wristband around my left wrist.
“A name?” I frowned.
She chuckled. “First time?”
My friend laughed. “Alias only—unless you want your real one?” She winked.
“No!” The word escaped me too loudly, earning a few curious glances. “Um… Velvet.”
My fingers brushed the burgundy dress clinging to my body, its fabric soft and smooth beneath my touch.
The woman wrote *Velvet* on the white strip of my wristband. Discretion made sense here. I felt an unexpected wave of relief.
“Fox,” my friend said smoothly, extending her wrist. “I was Crystal last week.”
Of course she was.
Fox moved through this place like she belonged to it. Tall, elegant, sea-blue eyes and golden hair, her body lean and toned from hours at the gym—she was completely in her element.
Beyond the doors, the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Lights dimmed. Music pulsed. Bodies moved together in time with the bass.
To my left, sweat-slick skin pressed together in a tangle of mouths and hands. Kissing, grabbing, licking—everywhere I looked. To my right, a man and woman writhed against a couch while others stood watching, touching themselves openly.
Heat pooled low in my stomach.
I imagined my boss there instead—imagined myself daring enough to be that exposed, that vulnerable. The thought thrilled and terrified me.
The club was divided into sections: loud, chaotic spaces and quieter, more private ones. Fox guided me through until we reached a calmer area.
Women lounged in a jacuzzi beneath soft golden lighting, fingers between their legs, wine glasses resting on the edge. A small bar nearby offered charcuterie and bottles of red.
“Do you think he’ll be here?” I asked quietly.
“It’s Saturday,” Fox laughed. “Of course he will be. But don’t wait around. Have some fun.”
She handed me a glass of merlot.
I worked for a global trade company. Personal assistant to the CEO. Or rather—the new CEO.
The old one had retired after his fourth marriage. His son took over at thirty, all confidence and command. Tall. Rugged. Silver-haired. Dark eyes that lingered longer than they should have.
I’d tried to ignore the crush. Failed completely.
Fox once mentioned seeing someone like him here—alone, drinking scotch, listening to jazz. That was when the idea took root. That was when I asked to come.
“Stop thinking,” Fox laughed, tugging me along. “Let’s dance.”
Inside the main club, the music roared. Screens played explicit videos. Almost everyone wore masks.
For the first time all night, I felt free.
I danced. Let go. Laughed at the DJ in a rainbow speedo adorned with dangling toys. Lost myself in movement.
Fox knelt closer and shouted something.
“What? I can’t hear you!” I shouted back, pointing at my ears.
She leaned in and whispered, “That guy by the bar hasn’t stopped staring at you since we got here.”
I turned my head. A man stood at the bar — tall, with jet-black hair and deep green eyes — watching me openly. A sly, playful smirk curved his lips as he leaned against the bar on one elbow. When he straightened and began walking towards me, I felt my stomach tighten.
“Hello there,” he murmured, bending down to my ear. He moved closer to my lips, smirk deepening.
“Hi,” I replied.
A shiver raced down my neck where his breath brushed my skin. He stepped closer, but I smiled awkwardly and took a step back.
I hit something hard.
I was certain I’d been in the middle of the dance floor — nowhere near a wall. Before I could turn around, I saw the dark-haired stranger’s smirk vanish, replaced by something far less pleasant.
Had my rejection offended him that much?
My body froze as a hand slid down my lower back, towards my left arse cheek.
Definitely not a wall.
The man behind me moved his hand to my waist, gripping tightly, and pressed his warm, solid body against my back.
“Mmm… who do we have here?” a raspy voice whispered in my ear.
My eyes widened.
I recognised that voice instantly. *Shit.*
If I could recognise his musky tone so easily, he would certainly recognise mine. I had to stay silent — at least until I could get away.
His grip loosened and he reached for my left hand, lifting it towards his face.
“Velvet,” he murmured. “Lovely.”
He chuckled softly, then bent down and buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply. My body felt like it might melt on the spot. With a satisfied sound, he looked up at the dark-haired stranger — the one I’d almost forgotten about.
“Sorry, Kas. This one’s mine,” he growled.
His thumb rubbed slowly over my wrist as he held my hand near his shoulder.
Mine.
Who did this man think he was — claiming women without so much as a conversation?
“Why don’t we let her decide that for herself?” Kas stepped closer, closing the space between us.
I’d never been caught between two beautiful men before — one of them someone I’d secretly desired for far too long. The choice exhilarated me… and terrified me in equal measure.
“What do you say, Velvet?” the silver-haired devil murmured, gripping my waist with both hands.
I turned my head slightly. Our eyes locked.
Heat flooded my cheeks and neck; my heart hammered so hard it felt ready to burst. I nodded — slowly.
“She’s decided,” he said, smirking.
Kas raised his hands in surrender and stepped back with a nod before returning to the bar.
I turned back to the man pressed against me. His dark eyes gleamed beneath his black mask, silver hair falling elegantly over his forehead, the rest tucked behind ears adorned with silver rings climbing from lobe to helix.
“Exton, found a little treat for me, did you?” another voice interrupted, a hand clapping his shoulder.
“No,” he replied firmly. “This one’s all mine.”
The man’s eyes widened in shock.
Exton.
So that was the name he’d chosen. Sexy.
Turning, I saw the newcomer clearly — no mask.
Oh no.
His best friend from the office.
The realisation hit me like ice water. I might be recognised. I might get fired.
Fox, meanwhile, smiled seductively at the man — exactly her type. Tall, muscular, dark brown hair, dangerous eyes. She’d watched the entire encounter unfold without once pulling me away. Of course she had. She knew Exton was exactly where I wanted to be.
“Fox,” she said smoothly, extending her long, elegant hand.
The dark-haired man took it and kissed her knuckles. “Vance,” he replied with a smirk. “And this is my friend Exton.”
Exton’s hands were still on my waist — and I didn’t mind at all.
“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more… private?” Exton suggested, fingers sliding to my lower back.
“Now that’s an idea,” Fox purred. “You two have fun.” She winked at me before walking away.
I panicked internally.
Vance took Fox’s hand and led her towards the private rooms. Exton guided me after them, his palm firm and possessive against my back.
I watched Vance spank Fox’s arse before disappearing into one room. Exton steered me into another, three doors down.
The whole walk, I held my arms close to my body, controlling my breathing.
I want this, I told myself.
I wasn’t inexperienced — but this place, this atmosphere… it was different. Electric.
Inside, the room glowed with dim red lighting. Two cushioned sofas flanked a glass table, which held a bowl overflowing with multicoloured condoms. At the far end stood a large circular bed draped in red silk. An open cupboard nearby displayed whips, chains, and handcuffs.
I swallowed.
I’d used a vibrator before — but these were something else. Still… a part of me was curious.
The door closed behind me.
My heart pounded as Exton’s footsteps approached.
He lifted his hands to my neck, gently sweeping my hair aside before pressing warm lips to my skin. My body shuddered.
“Safe word?” he murmured.
I’d never had one before. Afraid to speak, I shrugged.
“How about… cotton candy?” he smirked.
The coincidence made me giggle softly.
He untied the back of my dress slowly, deliberately. The burgundy velvet slid down my body, leaving me in dark red lingerie embroidered with roses — one of my favourite colours, perfect against my skin.
Exton hooked a finger into my g-string, pulled it back, then released it. The snap against my skin made me moan.
He took that as permission.
His hands roamed — one squeezing my breast beneath lace, the other rubbing my entrance through my panties. I moaned again as his breathing grew heavier, his hard cock pressing against me through his trousers.
Gripping my neck, he turned my face towards his.
How could anyone *not* notice him — mask or not?
He kissed me hungrily, tongue deep and demanding. I tasted scotch — his favourite. The same bottle he kept at the office.
My body burned.
His fingers slipped beneath my panties, circling my clit before sliding inside me.
“Fuck… you’re so wet,” he groaned.
I clutched his silver hair, moaning as he moved faster, deeper.
“I want to hear you,” he growled.
I gave him exactly what he wanted.
Exton pulled away from the kiss, his hand leaving my breast and his fingers retreating from my slick centre. I turned to face him, chest heaving, lips swollen and wet, thighs damp and trembling. I watched in pure delight as he stripped off his dark grey silk shirt.
I’d never seen a man unbutton a shirt so quickly.
He kicked off his shoes and tossed the shirt aside. My eyes traced his body slowly — his chest, his defined arms, the sharp lines of his six-pack. I needed to feel him. I didn’t even stop to question it; I reached out and ran my fingers over his rock-hard abs, biting my lip as I did.
He stepped forward as I explored him, and without realising it, I followed — step by step — until my legs bumped against something solid. I glanced down.
The bed.
I hadn’t even noticed how far we’d moved. I’d been completely enthralled by him.
Exton looked down at me, eyes dark, lips parted in a satisfied smirk. He looked greedy — hungry — but also unmistakably turned on by the fact that I wanted him just as badly.
I sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. He reached out, grazing my bottom lip with his finger. His touch was warm, gentle.
I had to admit — he was far more passionate, far more tender, than I’d expected. And I loved it.
Standing over me, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his trousers down his hips, never breaking eye contact. When he slid his black boxers down, I couldn’t help but smile back at him — that cheeky, playful grin of his made my stomach flip.
My eyes widened, my jaw slackening as he freed his long, thick, rock-hard cock.
I had never seen — or wanted — anything like it.
So big. So hard. So undeniably tempting. Heat flooded between my legs, slicker than I already was.
“Want a taste?” he smirked, wrapping his hand around himself.
I nodded, breathless.
“Go on, then, beautiful,” he growled, his voice deep and commanding.
He gripped the bedpost above his head with one hand and presented himself with the other.
I sank to my knees and took him into my mouth.
He tasted incredible. I barely managed to fit the tip past my lips, but I opened wider, determined to enjoy every second of him. I sucked and licked greedily, taking him as deep as I could — even though deep-throating had never been my strength.
It didn’t stop me from loving it.
Eyes closed, I worked my tongue along his length, stroking what wouldn’t fit with my hand. I felt him twitch against my tongue, heard the low groans above me.
“Mmm,” I moaned around him, unable to stop myself.
“Is it that good?” he teased.
I looked up at him with his cock still in my mouth, our eyes locking. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I blushed.
His lips parted as his breathing grew heavier. Suddenly, his hands gripped the back of my head.
“You can take it,” he moaned, guiding himself deeper.
He hit the back of my throat and I gasped, struggling for air — but it felt too good to stop. I took all of him, all that heat, swallowing around him as I fought the urge to choke.
“Breathe through your nose,” he murmured between moans.
I did — and it made everything easier.
Spreading my legs instinctively, I let him continue thrusting into my mouth. My underwear was soaked, slick dripping down my thighs.
After one last indulgent thrust, he pulled free. His cock was still hard, still twitching as he watched me.
He helped me to my feet and kissed me deeply, then pushed me back onto the bed. My back hit the cool red silk sheets, sending a shiver through my body.
I stared up at the painted ceiling, arms resting at my sides.
“Look at me, beautiful,” Exton growled, gripping my chin and forcing my gaze to his.
I nodded.
“Not good enough.” He lowered himself closer, his body hovering over mine. “Say… *Yes, Sir*.”
His weight pressed against me, his hardness nudging my vulva.
“Yes, Sir,” I moaned.
For a split second, panic flickered — my voice. But he didn’t hesitate. Instead, he rewarded me, tugging my bra down and closing his mouth around my nipple.
“Aah…” I gasped, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer.
He sucked, licked, bit — moving over my chest, down my stomach, teasing and tormenting me. I felt weightless, floating.
Then he moved lower.
His tongue met my clit and I cried out. One finger slid inside me.
“Ahh — there it is,” he grinned, immediately finding my g-spot.
I moaned louder than I ever had before. I’d dreamt about this for months — and now it was real.
“I love the sounds you make,” he said softly, adding a second finger.
“Ohhh… my… mmm…” I whimpered.
He fucked me with his fingers, deep and relentless, while his tongue circled, flicked, and sucked at my clit. My body twitched, breath coming in broken gasps.
He pressed harder against my g-spot, and I rocked my hips into him, chasing the sensation.
“That’s it, beautiful,” he demanded, lifting his head to kiss me. “Fuck my fingers. Faster.”
I obeyed, driving myself onto his fingers. When he added a third, I nearly lost my mind. Something feral tore loose inside me. I clutched his back, riding his hand harder.
His thumb worked my clit as his fingers drove deep. He kissed me again, then sucked at my neck, gripping my skin.
I cried out loudly.
“Ohhh… I’m coming… ohhh… yes—!”
My fingers dug into his back as my body shook, orgasm crashing over me hard and fast.
It stunned me.
I’d never come so quickly — never from fingers alone. But Exton knew exactly what he was doing. Every pressure point. Every response. He was devastatingly good.
I collapsed back against the bed, breathing hard, eyes closed.
When I opened them, he was smiling down at me.
He lifted a hand to his mask.
“No!” I blurted, grabbing his wrist.
I knew who he was — but if he removed it, there would be no denying it. And then I’d have to remove mine. I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to know.
Just tonight — let this stay secret.
He dropped his hand, something unreadable crossing his face before he smiled again. He turned away, and panic flared.
Was he leaving?
“Are… are you going?” I asked.
“No.” He stopped at the glass table, selecting a raspberry-flavoured condom. “I’m just getting started.”
He smirked at me.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, I smiled back — and slowly spread my legs for him.
