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“Dance with me, Maci-girl,” I dictated, and she smiled.
“I’m not sure how,” she admitted, her brow furrowing rather adorably with her concern.
“You don’t have to know how. All you have to do is let me lead, but you already do that quite well, don’t you?” I replied, and her cheeks blushed a bright rosy pink, the same pink I’d spanked her perfect little ass on the ride here.
My cock hardened like a spike.
She was going to get fucked so hard tonight.
“Sir,” she whispered, her voice hardly audible, and I grinned widely, spinning her around and pulling her in towards me so that my chest collided with her bare back.
“I wonder if anyone else needed to be put over their man’s knee before they came here,” I said quietly, just low enough so that she was the only one who would be able to pick up on the sound of my voice.
“Nikolaos,” she blushed, her cheeks red as a cherry tomato now, and my balls ached.
If we were at home, I’d have put her down on her knees and fucked that pretty face until she swallowed every drop.
Then my focus suddenly shifted to those around us as I began to catch fragments of hushed conversations that were most certainly not meant for our ears.
“…did you see them? He’s old enough to be her father,” one voice murmured, barely audible over the hum of the gathering. I could tell Maci had heard too because I saw her stiffen for the briefest of seconds before she moved in a bit closer to me. I gripped her waist harder, trying to comfort her in silence, but then I heard another shrill voice begin to speak.
“She must be his escort for the night. Have you seen how she looks at him? It’s probably all about the money.”
The words were like a slow poison, each syllable laced with bitter judgment and raw speculation. My chest tightened as a flare of irritation ignited within me. I wanted to confront them, to shatter their narrow-minded assumptions with the truth of what Maci meant to me, but I restrained myself, knowing that any outburst would only fuel their gossip further.
I slowly moved us off the dance floor and ushered Maci towards the bar, wanting to get her as far away from them as possible. She needed a glass of champagne, and I wanted a bourbon.
As we moved through the crowd, the insulting whispers seemed to follow us, like a persistent buzz that was increasingly grating on my nerves. I found myself growing progressively more annoyed, but I tried to ignore it. I was successful for at least a little while, but then I heard another group talking among themselves.
We’d only just reached the bar when another woman leaned in towards her friend and cleared her throat.
“He’s always had a taste for younger women, but this… this is a bit much, don’t you think?” another voice suggested, thinly veiled disdain coloring the words.
My grip on Maci’s back tightened involuntarily. It was one thing to endure scrutiny about myself, but to hear Maci being spoken about in such a demeaning way, and to know that she could hear it too, was unbearable.
She was more than they could ever comprehend—a woman of intelligence, depth, and significance in my life, not some shallow arm candy.
She was so much more than my fuck toy.
She was mine.
As I scanned the crowd, I could barely contain my rage, and another voice cut through the murmur, cruder and more insulting than the rest.
It came from a young man lounging against a pillar, a glass of bubbling champagne in his hand. He was a known figure in our circles—Alexios Demetriou, a Greek trust fund baby notorious for his silver spoon upbringing and the entitled attitude that came with it.
“Look at that,” he said loudly, a smirk on his face, his eyes fixated on Maci and me. “Kaligaris has really outdone himself this time. Picked up a slutty little whore from the nearest street corner, has he?
That comment was the final straw. I stopped, turning slightly to confront him, my eyes cold and hard.
My vision went red with rage.
Without a word, I strode towards him, my steps measured but filled with a barely contained fury. The room seemed to hold its breath as I approached him, but I ignored them. His words played over and over in my mind, and I couldn’t make them stop.
I didn’t say anything at all. I let my fist do the talking.
I landed a punch squarely on his smug face, the impact echoing through the hall. I moved so quickly that he didn’t have time to lift his arms to block the blow, and the unexpected look of surprise on his face was well worth whatever consequences came with it.
Alexios staggered backwards, his hand flying to his nose. It felt extremely satisfying to see a stream of blood flowing from between his fingers. My breathing was heavy, each inhale and exhale echoing throughout the silence of the hall.
