Pulled into a world of sweet temptations and sexual fantasy, Ariel will hold tight to the one who has reawakened her body, and her heart, no matter what the cost in the final installment of Velvet's smoking hot e-serial THE BLACK DOOR.
Ariel, thrust into the heady, wild frenzy of The Black Door, refuses to give up her visits to the sensual playground—and vows to see the man who makes her burn with pleasure. As her dark life of sexual fantasy begins to blend into her real life, Ariel verges on losing control completely, in the shattering, sexy conclusion to The Black Door by Velvet.
About the Author
Velvet is one of the steamiest writers and the author of The Black Door, Seduction and Betrayal. With her finger on the pulse, she knows how to make your heart race with her tantalizing stories of lust and seduction mixed with a dose of suspense.
As the creator of The Black Door series, Velvet uses the world as her muse, traveling the globe for inspiration. She is currently working on her next book in the series.
Read an Excerpt
The Black Door: Part Three
St. Martin's PressCopyright © 2007 Velvet
All rights reserved.
LYING AWAKE with the moonlight streaming through the blinds, Michele perched herself up on one elbow and watched "her man" sleep. This was the only time that she could stare at him without him feeling self-conscious. She loved everything about Trey, from the curve of his lips, to the sexy dimples that pierced his cheeks, to his slightly shaved head. He was so fine, and she was proud to be his woman.
Since the age of three, Michele had lived in the shadow of her younger sister. Two years her junior, Janet was prettier and smarter, and their parents never missed an opportunity to sing Janet's praises. "Look at my baby, she's the cutest, most talented girl in the pageant," her mother would say, as she watched Janet take command of the stage and wow the judges. While Michele was chubby and clumsy, Janet was the polar opposite. Her petite frame and graceful mannerisms made her the perfect contestant for the beauty-pageant circuit. Convinced that Janet was a future Miss America, their mother entered her daughter in as many competitions as possible. She'd drag Michele along as a junior roadie, and Michele would have to carry her sister's gowns and makeup cases like a little flunky. She resented being treated like Cinderella, but never complained, just waited for the day when she'd grow into her own. As a teenager Michele began to shed her baby fat, and her body transformed from a chunky kid into a voluptuous young woman. Armed with a new figure, she threw out her baggy pants and sweatshirts and replaced them with sexy T-shirts and tight jeans. Though she had finally overcome the fat-girl complex, she still didn't win over the cute boys, because they were always attracted to her sister the beauty queen. It wasn't until college that Michele was able to step out of the shadows, and she stepped out in style wearing even more revealing clothes. She used her body to get the attention she never got as a child, and when Trey noticed her titties that day at Preston's town house, she knew it was just a matter of time before she got him into bed. But she wanted more—she wanted to marry him. He was the son of a future Supreme Court justice, and by marrying him, she would finally trump her sister, who was married to a traveling salesman. She knew that her father respected Preston and would be thrilled if she became his daughter-in-law; then maybe she'd finally become the apple of her dad's eye.
Michele's eyes roamed the length of Trey's nude body and beneath the thin top sheet, she noticed that his dick was growing longer and longer until it was fully erect. She assumed that he was having a dream about making love to her, so she leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Is that for me, baby?"
* * *
AFTER DINNER AT Town earlier that night, Trey had planned to put Michele in a taxi and send her home, but she insisted on spending the night at his apartment. She had even brought along a small tote bag in anticipation of going home with him. Since they hadn't been spending much time together, he reluctantly agreed. Michele could be aggressive at times; when he first met her at his father's town house, her confidence turned him on, but now it was becoming annoying. She wanted to be with him every waking second of the day, and her constant affection was suffocating. He knew the real reason behind the annoyance was the fact that he wasn't with the woman he truly desired. For the first time in his life, Trey was falling in love—or was it lust? He knew it was crazy to feel strong emotions for a woman he had never formally met; well, he had actually met her at his father's engagement party, but for some reason he hadn't felt a connection then. However, at the club, their chemistry was off the chain—it was cosmic—and he couldn't deny what he felt. Initially it baffled him as to why she fled after seeing his face, but then he realized that she probably recognized him from the engagement party and was embarrassed because she'd been making love to Preston's son. The way she ran out of the room, he knew that she wouldn't return to The Black Door anytime soon. But that was okay. He had her file, which included her name and her address. Trey knew that it was totally unprofessional to show up on a client's doorstep, but their relationship had gone far beyond professional and was now personal. He felt it, and he knew that she did too.
* * *
"BABY," MICHELE WHISPERED again. "Are you asleep?" She lightly nudged him.
Michele's words were drowning out his thoughts, but he kept his eyes shut, trying to replace her face with Meri's. Preferring to stay in a pseudo dream state, he didn't answer her question, but just remained on his back as if he were comatose. Trey didn't make a sound, hoping that she would take the hint and leave him alone.
"Well, I know somebody who's up," she said, lifting the sheet. Michele reached down and began stroking his dick.
He wanted to yell, "Stop! Get out of my bed! I don't love you." But her touch felt too good, and with his testosterone now in high gear, he craved more.
Trying to elicit a response from him, she replaced her hand with her tongue. She seductively traced the rim of his penis's head, and then trailed her tongue down the shaft. When she got to the end of his erection, she began licking his balls is if they were sugarcoated.
Unable to play possum any longer, he instinctively moved his pelvis up and down in a slow rhythmic motion.
Feeling him come to life, Michele wasted no time going for the gusto. Trey hadn't made love to her in weeks and she was long overdue. Her hormones were raging and she desired him with every fiber of her being. She threw the sheet back all the way and straddled his naked body. She positioned the opening of her moist pussy on top of his shaft and rocked back and forth until his hard dick slipped inside of her.
The warmth of her wet pussy turned him on even more than her wet mouth, and he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her down even harder so that he was deeper inside.
Feeling the full length of his shaft, Michele shouted, "Oooo, baby!!"
Trey stuck three fingers inside of her mouth to muffle her screams, so that she wouldn't wake his neighbors. He lived in a quiet co-op building, and the last thing he needed was for the board to call him on the carpet for disrupting the peace in the middle of the night.
Michele began sucking on each finger like they were cylindrical lollipops, and the sensation made him want to come, but he didn't. Instead he rolled her off of him onto her back. In the missionary position he knew that he would have more control over ejaculating; they had just started fucking and he didn't want to bust a nut so soon.
In an effort to pull him in closer, Michele wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed her thighs tight like a vise locking him in place. She wanted to devour his dick, so that her pussy would be the only one that he craved.
Trey could sense from her aggressiveness that she was trying to dominate the situation and pussy-whip him, but of course he wasn't going to let that happen. Much to his chagrin, he was already "whipped" by one woman, and that was more than enough.
In an effort to loosen the grip of her legs and gain more leverage, Trey pushed up and arched his back until her legs dropped to the side. He then grabbed her wrists with one hand and pinned them to the bed. Michele raised her legs and tried to wrap them around his back again, but he caught her right leg just under the kneecap and bent it to his chest. His thrusting became more intense, but he still wasn't penetrating deep enough, so he released her arms and grabbed her by the ankles. He spread her legs high in the air into a wide V and stretched them as far as they would go. Trey began ramming her pussy forcefully to let her know that he was in control. "What's my name?" he demanded in a harsh voice.
She contorted her face and panted, "T ... r ... e ... y," barely getting out each letter.
Michele winced with a tinge of pain as his dick hit her cervix; this wasn't what she expected. She was in love with Trey, and hoped that he felt the same way. She wanted him to convey his feelings by making tender love, not fucking her like some two-dollar hooker off the street. "Wait ... Stop!" she pleaded between breaths.
Trey's eyes were tightly shut and he didn't respond; he just kept humping her like a mad dog.
"Trey!" she yelled, trying to bring him out of his lust-induced trance. When he still didn't respond, she kicked her legs wildly until he released his grip. She then rolled from underneath him and onto her side. Tears began streaming down her cheeks; she didn't know why he was treating her so rough, like she was a piece of meat.
Michele's back was to him, but Trey could hear her sniffling and assumed that she was crying. He suddenly began to feel guilty. He knew that he was manhandling her, but he couldn't stop himself. Once his dick was inside of her pussy, his animal instincts took over and he just wanted a good fuck; besides, he didn't love her and it showed. Trying to mend the moment, he touched her back, but she scooted away.
Trey didn't know what to say, so he snuggled up close and spooned her. He knew that most women loved to spoon; it made them feel loved. He made this grand gesture because he didn't want to destroy their relationship in one night. He was no fool; he knew that there was no wrath like a woman scorned, and he didn't want Michele as a vengeful adversary. Besides, he didn't know what was going to happen with Meri, and he knew that a bird in the hand was better than one in the bush.
Though Michele was still upset with Trey, she allowed him to cuddle her. She was conflicted. First he was treating her like a one-night stand, and now he was holding her like a precious doll. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear that he had another woman. She thought about asking him point-blank if he was in love with someone else, but she was afraid to hear the truth. Besides, now was not the right time. She knew the best strategy was to do a little research on her own and find out firsthand if he was cheating on her. Michele wasn't about to lose Trey to another woman. If there was someone else in the picture, she would do whatever it took (and that meant anything) to secure her position as his future wife.CHAPTER 2
ARIEL'S LIFE seemed like one of those melodramatic soap operas with the glitzy characters and surreal plot, where in one episode the maid seduces the man of the house, breaks up his marriage, and becomes the new lady of the manor. In another bizarre twist of fate a mother reunites with a daughter she gave up for adoption twenty years ago, only to discover that her long-lost daughter is engaged to her son (the younger woman's half brother). As far-fetched as these story lines were, they were no comparison to the sequence of events that Ariel was experiencing in real life. She was still having a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that she had been fucking her future stepson.
Ariel sat slumped over the vanity with her head in her hands. Instead of applying makeup, she sat with her eyes clenched, thinking about the law of averages. What were the odds that she would go to The Black Door in the first place, and then to top it all off, attract the one man on the planet who was totally off-limits? She willfully lifted her head, opened her eyes, looked in the mirror, and searched her beet-red eyes for some kind of understanding as to why this had happened. If only she were the frigid type who didn't need to be sexually satisfied on a regular basis, then she could have waited until Preston made time for her. But no, she was a horny broad who wasn't satisfied with just the synthetic plastic of a vibrator; she was the type of woman who needed to feel the hardness of a man's penis, and not some poor imitation, thrusting inside of her pussy. If only she had called one of those 800 numbers and hired a beefy stud for sex or, better yet, she should have propositioned Mason, her escort for the Lancaster benefit, instead of going to The Black Door. Then none of this would be happening.
The telephone rang as she was counting up the useless if-onlys. Ariel looked at the caller ID and was tempted to let the call go into voice mail. But she knew that he would just call her cell phone, so she reluctantly picked up.
"Hello," she said dryly.
"Hey, honey." Preston's tone was as bubbly as a glass of Dom. "Instead of seven o'clock, can you be at the town house by six-thirty?" he asked anxiously.
Ariel turned around and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was already a quarter to six, and she was nowhere near ready. She sighed. She didn't want to come within ten feet of the town house or anyplace where Trey was invited.
"Okay, I'll try," she said, knowing that there was no way she was going make it downtown in forty-five minutes.
"Great. See you then," he said, paying no attention to her sullen tone.
I see he's already riding high, Ariel thought, once she hung up the phone.
Instead of putting on a slinky cocktail dress, she wanted to put on a pair of flannel pajamas, crawl into bed, and hide underneath the covers until the party was over, but that was totally out of the question. Preston would find her absence inexcusable; he was counting on her for support. If she didn't show up, that would only raise suspicions, and the last thing she needed was for him to second-guess her fidelity. Ariel did love Preston. He gave her the type of security that she didn't have growing up; in a sense he was a father figure—which was probably why she was attracted to him in the first place—and the last thing she wanted to do was to hurt him.
Ariel rose lazily from the vanity chair and moped into her walk-in closet to find something to wear. She switched on the light, stood back, and looked at the row of cocktail dresses. She stared at the dresses hanging on their padded hangers hoping that one would spark her interest, but nothing jumped out at her. They all seemed dull and boring. She then walked closer to get a better view. She took an emerald-green dress with tiny ruby buttons off of its hanger, placed it against her body, and looked in the full-length mirror that hung on the back of the door.
"Too Christmassy," she said to herself.
Next, she reached for a lavender dress with a two-tiered flounce hemline. "Too belle of the ball." She frowned, looking at the Gone with the Wind—inspired gown.
She then removed a slim-fitting, black Gucci dress with a V neckline and held it up to her body. The dress was perfect—sexy yet conservative—except for the plunging neckline, which exposed a portion of her tattoo.
"I'll just wear a scarf to cover this," she said, running her hand over the detailed rose that was stenciled on her left breast.
Now that she had decided what to wear, Ariel went into the kitchen and made herself a double martini. Though time was of the essence, she didn't rush. She drank a few sips and exhaled slowly. The cool liquid slipped down her throat and eased her frayed nerves. She polished off the first glass and then poured another before making her way into the bathroom.
She filled the large Jacuzzi tub with warm water and several drops of eucalyptus oil for a relaxing soak. A cold drink and a warm bath were just what she needed to calm herself before facing Trey again. Ariel languished in the tub for over thirty minutes before climbing out.
She took her time dressing and applying makeup. Since she was already late, it didn't make much sense to rush at this point. And the less time spent at the party, the better. Just before she left the apartment, the house phone rang. She didn't bother looking at the caller ID because she knew that it was Preston calling to find out what was taking her so long. And sure enough, once the phone stopped ringing, her cell phone rang. She didn't want to hear his barrage of questions, so she turned the phone off without answering the call.
Ariel decided to drive her black convertible Mercedes CLK instead of taking a taxi. She wanted the feel of the cool evening breeze on her face, to help clear her head of the nagging thoughts of doom. She couldn't help but envision Preston taking one look at her and Trey and knowing instinctively that they were lovers. She would just have to try and steer clear of Trey so that Preston wouldn't sense the chemistry between them.
Excerpted from The Black Door: Part Three by Velvet. Copyright © 2007 Velvet. Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Kept hoping to be pulled into story only to be aggravated I bought first 3 books only to be disappointed.
Loved the whole series and was sad that it ended. It ended with a twist that i wasnt expecting it at all. Would love to see more from this author.