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I watched how she never once broke eye contact with who she was speaking to or casually touched their arms or chests, making sure to laugh or smile when she was supposed to. Proving she was the epitome of perfection.
She could handle her own, which was the hardest pill to swallow. She wasn’t the young woman I left all those years ago. Now, she was this powerhouse, and I couldn’t have been prouder of her than I was at that moment.
We hadn’t spoken about what happened, and I was trying to give her the space she needed. I used whatever I could to my advantage, and I was beyond grateful that she allowed us to spend some time together outside of work.
My will to just study her broke when I saw her from across the room after my speech, and hell, jealousy washed over me at a rapid pace. My possessiveness over her spread from across the room and the distance between us. To truly test her self-control and determination to keep up her facade of no longer loving me.
I walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her lower back, placing her left arm on my shoulder, and then I entwined our other hands at our sides. She gasped when I unexpectedly brought my right leg between hers, so she was pretty much straddling my thigh as I hugged her to my chest tight.
Allowing no distance between us.
I locked eyes with her like she was the only woman in the room who mattered when, in reality, it was the truth.
“When did you learn to dance?” she asked as I moved my lips closer to hers. Close enough to feel her breath against my mouth.
I grinned, lightly pressing my lips against her cheek as I slowly slid my hand down her bare back before dipping into the edge of her dress right above her ass. We provocatively started to dance to the soft tune of the music. I shifted with the tune, twirling her around the room.
In an instant, I tugged her back into my torso and skimmed my nose down her neck before I gripped the back of it in a possessive gesture. I could physically feel Capri’s restraint being stretched to the max. I had her exactly where I wanted her, and that was when I decided it was time to make it snap. Feeling nothing but her pulse beating with anticipation beneath my fingertips, nothing could have prepared me for the reaction I was intentionally provoking.
In one quick, sudden movement, she abruptly turned, and I gripped her wrist and roughly yanked her back toward me, stopping her momentum and the determination she was using to try to get away from me. I caused her to lose her footing and fall against my chest and into my arms as the orchestra started another song.
The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene, and that was exactly what would happen if she hauled ass away from me. I hooked my arm around her lower back, placing her right hand into my left at our sides and proceeded to dance with her again instead.
I questioned, “Why are you trying to run from me, beauty?” as she pushed off my chest a little too hard into a turn, spinning back into our hold.
“Because I hate performing for a crowd,” she replied with a hard edge to her tone.
I pulled her down into a fast dip at my side, sensually bringing her back up to face me again. We started to dance effortlessly around the room.
“You could have fooled me.”
“Oh, so this is about you being jealous? Is this why you’re basically peeing on me in a room full of strangers?” she snidely countered with a soft glimmer in her eyes.
I proudly grinned, eyeing her up and down with a predatory regard. With my hand still gripping the back of her neck, we strolled the dance floor.
Once again, I dipped her. Crudely jerking her back up with enough force to lock her body in place where I wanted it.
Her lips close to my mouth.
Her breasts pressed to my chest.
Her wet pussy against my hard cock.
I rasped, my mouth almost touching hers, “Just marking my territory.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, mainly pissed that I spoke the truth. We aggressively walked in a circle, stepping back into our closed embrace.
“There you go thinking with your dick again,” she snapped, playing it off like I wasn’t on to her.
Breathing out a chuckle, I roughly spun her so her back was snug against my chest. Slowly sliding my hands down to her hips, I made sure I took my sweet-ass time. I wanted her to feel every inch of my fingers along the sides of her breasts, her ribs, and the curve of her waist. It simply ignited conflicting emotions she didn’t want to deal with, feelings she’d failed to bury from years ago.
“Should I keep going?” I whispered huskily, grazing my nose and lips along the slope of her soft, silky neck until I reached the tender spot right beneath her ear and jawline. “Do I need to finger fuck you from behind or do we need to finish this with my cock deep inside you to finally put an end to your bullshit lies?”
As soon as she felt my fingers descending down her hips, she slapped her hands over mine, shoving her ass into my dick. The violins from the orchestra hit a high point in the ballad, and she seductively slid to the floor. In the same sinful movement, she rotated her hips up my body. Never stopping her persistent sway of grinding her ass against me.
“The only bullshit lies I keep hearing are the same ones coming out of your mouth,” she argued, turning her face into mine.
I growled, hastily shifting her to face me. Wrapping her left arm around my neck, I gripped her right thigh hard, causing her to whimper before angling it up to the side of my body. We stared deep into each other’s eyes, and the music’s intensity took over, only adding to the craze of our diminishing self-control.
