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He glanced behind me. "You're just moving side to side."
"Screw. You."
He chuckled. "Okay."
"Pervert," I shot back, but without much heat. He was right, though. I was sort of moving side to side, kind of like I was at a high school prom. Actually, they danced better than this. Gathering up my courage, I draped an arm around his neck. "Remember. You asked for this."
He arched an eyebrow.
"Try to keep an eye on the ancient."
Ren's stare turned lazy and wholly arrogant. "Oh, I haven't forgotten why we're here."
Holding his smug gaze, I started to move against him, but not like before. I found the beat of the music, letting it resonate in my veins, through my body, and into my limbs. My fingers found the hair at the nape of his neck. I tugged with just enough force to cause his eyes to open wide.
I smiled innocently up at him but immediately regretted it when he dipped his mouth to my neck. "That was naughty," he mused, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below my ear. "And I liked it."
"Figures," I muttered. Even though I wanted to pull his hair again, I decided that wasn't a wise or beneficial act. "What's he doing now?"
"Still talking. He's at a table now, on the other side."
I resisted the urge to stomp my foot, because the longer I moved against Ren's body, the more I became aware of him. The feel of his hard chest against my much softer one. The way his hand had flattened on my left hip and how the hand in my hair had moved to my back. My heart was beating faster, and it had nothing to do with dancing.
My other hand slipped off his shoulder to his chest, and I felt his deep, sudden inhale. I glanced up quickly, and our gazes collided, held. I was snared. The green hue churned restlessly. His hand on my back slid down the line of my spine and then trailed back up, leaving a wake of shivers behind. With the hand on my hip, he tugged me even closer to him, fitting our hips together. The act left me warm, and that heat spread through me, causing my body to relax and tense at the same time.
The arrogance from earlier was gone from his gaze, replaced by a stark and powerful emotion. Desire. Want. Need. It was all there, and he did nothing to hide it. He didn't shy away from it, but I wasn't ready to see it, to even begin to deal with it. Moving sideways, I turned our bodies so when I gave Ren my back, I wasn't facing the dance floor directly. I could see the ancient, and he was no longer talking to just one fae. Another had joined him.
Swaying to the music, I bit down on my lip when Ren's arm crept around my waist and hauled me back against him.
"Careful," he said, his nose grazing my cheek. "I know damn well he hasn't forgotten that face of yours."
I had no idea if that was just a statement, a compliment, or an insult, but then his hand slid across my stomach, his fingers expanding, and as I danced, I realized this position was a bad idea. Every slight move of my hips sent a jolt of shivery awareness through me. His other hand rested on my hip again, and as he finally started to move behind me, finding the rhythm I'd set, I struggled to remember to breathe.
This . . . this was too much, and yet I didn't pull away. I didn't put distance between us.
Our bodies were virtually one, and the feel of him against my back turned my insides into molten lava that simmered and then flared hotly the moment I felt his mouth, wet and warm against my neck, just below my ear. Ren didn't move those decadent lips. He waited for my reaction, and each second that ticked by I was losing myself to the shadows, to the way we moved against one another, and to the act it simulated.
He pressed a kiss against my fluttering pulse, and another gasp escaped me. My eyes drifted shut as he rained a tiny path of sweet, brief kisses along the length of my throat. This was just pretend. I kept telling myself that as his thumb moved in a slow circle just below my breasts. We were pretending. That was all. But my body didn't recognize that. My breasts ached, and the area between my thighs pulsed. Arousal hummed through my body.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a couple standing across from us. Both were human, and they too were pressed so closely there was no telling where one body ended and the other began. Their mouths were fused together, and his hand was under the skirt of her dress.
God, I wanted Ren to touch me like that. Though that would be entirely wicked and completely wrong, the mere thought of him doing that caused my back to arch and my bottom to press back against him.
Air left my lungs in an unsteady rush. I felt him, and knew at once what I saw in his stare was real. He was not uninvolved in this. He was hard and thick against my lower back as my hips rolled against him.
This was getting out of control.
Ren's hand on my hip moved, inching down my thigh. The tips of his fingers brushed the bare skin of my left leg, and I shuddered. There was no hiding it, no mistaking it. His mouth trailed back up my throat.
"He's still at the table," he whispered, barely audible over the music, the whimpers echoing around us, the sound of my pounding heart.
I opened my mouth, but he caught the lobe of my ear between his teeth, and my words were lost in a moan. He chuckled, and I wanted to hate him for that, but my senses were alive, sending heat through my veins.
His hands were on the move again. The one on my stomach had inched up, his thumb smoothing along the underswell of my breast. Damn that bra, because it proved a formidable barrier, but I could feel the tips of my breasts hardening, and the ache grew stronger. My breath was coming in short pants, and I wasn't sure if we were dancing anymore or just grinding on one another.
My wild gaze flickered to where the ancient was and saw that Ren had not lied. Tiny, delicious knots formed low in my belly when his hand slipped under the hem of my skirt, causing me to jerk against him, losing the rhythm. I gripped his arm, my nails digging into his skin.
Ren waited.
Because I was obviously losing my mind, I didn't pull his hand away, and that was all the permission he needed. His hand swept up my thigh. There was fire in my blood, incensed by the deep sound that rumbled out of Ren from behind me.
His breath danced over the slope of my neck and then my jaw. He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth as his chest rose and fell heavily against my back.
"Honored," he whispered.
My heart stuttered blindly. Almost as if I was somewhere else, I watched through a haze as the ancient who could recognize who and what I was stalked across the club toward the exit. He was leaving. We were safe, and it was time to stop this, but his fingers were so close, skimming the crease of my thigh, and I couldn't ever remember feeling like this—like I couldn't breathe. Ren cupped me with his hand, and my entire body reacted to the intimate touch.
The thin scrap of lace was no protection. His hand was hot, and as he pressed his palm against the spot he just seemed to know, against the bundle of nerves, I thought I saw stars.
This was insane.
But I burned for his touch—for him. Thoughts of the fae and the ancients fell away. Being distracted as we were was so incredibly dangerous and ridiculously stupid, but as I held on to his forearm, holding his hand there, I shook with a need I didn't even fully understand.
"Fuck," he cursed. "I want to make you come. Right here. Right now."
The words jarred me into reality, but his fingers had found that spot, brushing over the damp stretch of panties and dragging out a bolt of sharp pleasure. The knot in my belly tightened as he trailed his finger back and forth. Desire clouded all sense of rationale.
"Tell me yes," he ordered huskily. "Tell me yes and I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. Just let me do this."
Shocked by his words—shocked by the way I rode his hand and by how badly I wanted him, I knew I had to end this because of—because of reasons. But I was urging him on, pressing myself against him, wishing deep inside that he'd slip one of those long fingers under my panties. My gaze danced over the club.
"Ivy." He breathed my name like it was a curse.
The word was on the tip of my tongue, forming on my lips as I saw him glide across the floor. Reality rushed me. I jerked forward, breaking free. His hand slipped over my thigh as I whirled around, facing him. I ached—throbbed. My body was screaming what the hell at me, and even my brain was kind of confused. My entire being craved release at his hands.
Ren looked dazed as he stared down at me. He took a step forward, and my heart jumped. Hard desire was etched into his striking features. He no longer looked angelic, but more like a fallen angel hell-bent on claiming me. Two words drew him up short.
"He's here," I gasped out. He stiffened, hi
s gaze never leaving my face. "Marlon is here."
Chapter Thirteen
For a moment, the look that settled into Ren's features said he really didn't give a shit about the ancient, and as my heart raced, I really thought he was going to close the sudden distance between us and we were going to end up like one of those couples on the couches.
