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“What? You couldn’t just wait until we were alone?” I breathe against her skin, half furious and half painfully aroused.
“Hmm-mm,” she murmurs, shaking her head and biting her lips as my fingers slip beneath the shimmering fabric.
“You like the thought of getting me in trouble?” I nip her ear to show her how naughty she is for being careless.
“No,” she whimpers, her tone devastated as I reach the peak of her thighs and cup her satin-clad sex.
“Then what?” I demand, my eyes burning into hers through the mirror.
I slide my fingers beneath the waistline of her panties, and when I find her clit, Alina cries out, her blue eyes filled with lust.
“I want you,” she moans, her hips rolling back against my hard cock as I trace her slick seam inside her panties.
God, I want her too. But I need to make this quick because, apparently, I’m the only responsible one tonight.
Alina pants in my arms, her body squirming against me as I slide two fingers into her shockingly wet depths. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and she watches me in the mirror, her gaze so full of arousal, my cock aches to satisfy her.
The whimpering mewls that escape her leave my mouth dry, and I swallow hard as I focus on bringing her to climax. We might not have time for sex, but I want to at least give her some relief.
“Oh, God!” she gasps, her walls tightening around my fingers, and her body starts to vibrate. “Oh, my God, it feels so good,” she moans.
With a smug smile of satisfaction, I return my lips to the hollow of her neck and suck the soft skin between my teeth. Alina cries out, her hips rolling back against me, and when her pussy explodes around my fingers, fresh excitement coats her slit, my fingers, my palm.
I groan with the need to be inside her.
Fingering her might solve Alina’s problem, but it’s only made mine so much worse. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to hide the massive erection I’m rocking if we’re going to go back out on that dance floor. I’m so hard, I feel as though I might just burst through my zipper at any moment.
Meanwhile, Alina’s sinfully delicious moans and spasming release have me laser focused on her pleasure. I could make her come a thousand times and never tire of the sound.
And watching her in the mirror—watching her watch us as she falls apart?
I can’t think of a single thing sexier. Her skin is flushed a perfect shade of pink. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly as she gasps for breath, her cleavage tantalizing me. And her luscious red lips are parted in a perfect O, tempting me to fuck them.
Alina trembles against my chest, her legs buckling in the wake of her orgasm until she’s sagging into me. “Please, Mishka?” she whimpers.
“Please, what?” I murmur by her ear, brushing the delicate shell with my lips.
“Please, fuck me.”
Jesus Christ. She asks it so sweetly, I don’t think I can refuse.
“You want my cock inside you right now? Right here in the men’s bathroom?” I’m hoarse with arousal at the thought of it, but I also don’t want to take advantage of her if she’s actually drunk.
Alina turns in my arms, my fingers sliding out of her panties automatically, and when she peers up at me, her crystal blue eyes hold a clarity that says she knows exactly what she’s asking for.
Smutty nightclub bathroom sex.
This girl never fails to surprise me.
And though I know we should stop before anyone can miss us, I can’t bring myself to say it.
Instead, I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground as I kiss her fiercely. Alina’s legs come up to grip my hips, and she clings to me as I carry her toward the row of sinks. Our lips crash together, our tongues tangling as we both deepen the kiss.
When I set Alina down on the edge of the counter, she arches her back into me, her fingers wrapping around my tie and pulling me closer.
Sliding my fingers beneath the hem of her dress, I find Alina’s panties and work them down over her hips. She wiggles, rocking from hip to hip to help the process, and I tuck the sexy black slip of fabric into my pocket for safekeeping.
Alina doesn’t bother with the buttons of my shirt, seeming to grasp that time is of the essence. Instead, she goes straight for my belt, her fingers deftly unbuckling it and opening my slacks.
