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I lose myself in it, reveling in the euphoria it sends bubbling through my veins.
Music swells to life around us, so loud I feel it vibrating in my stomach and my chest. It doesn’t stop us, doesn’t pull us apart. We drown in bliss together, locked in a passionate embrace, caught in the notes of forever. He rucks my dress up, his rough hand gliding up my thigh. I tug at his pants, trying to free his cock.
Cool air dances against my inner thighs and then my damp panties.
He doesn’t stop kissing me. Not even when I wrap my fingers around his hard length, stroking him the way he taught me. He likes it rough, likes a little bit of pain with his pleasure. I give it to him, reminding him of how good I can be for him.
“Jesus,” he growls, shoving his hand inside my panties.
The only thing that saves the whole bar from hearing my cry of ecstasy is his mouth against mine. He claims that sound for himself, drinking it down his eager throat as he twists his wrist, thrusting two fingers into me. I rise up on my tiptoes as he fucks me with them, ruthlessly dragging me to the edge with two fingers inside me and his thumb on my clit.
“When I get you home, we’re going to do this again, Raven,” he says, dragging my bottom lip through his teeth. “I’m going to leave my seed dripping from both of these pretty little holes tonight.”
“Yes,” I sob, uncaring if anyone hears me. Willing to give him whatever he wants. It’s all his anyway, claimed the second he wrapped his hand around my throat and demanded I watch him take what belonged to him. He’s filthy and demanding…and so damn good. God, the way he takes care of me makes me feel like I really am his princess, worshipped and adored by him.
He fucks me with his fingers until my legs quiver. I faceplant into his shoulder, biting him as I come around his fingers in a warm rush of pleasure that liquefies my veins.
“Good girl,” he croons. “Don’t let anyone hear you coming all over your man or I won’t let you do it again.”
My man. More like my heart. My soul. My everything.
Does he know how much I need him? How much I love him?
I release his skin from between my teeth, biting my lip to keep from crying out for him. I know he isn’t joking. If anyone hears me, he won’t let me come again. He’ll keep me on the edge all night, tormenting me with pleasure until I beg for mercy. The sexy, bossy bastard. He wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t share me. He’s jealous and possessive. And I love every second of it.
“Touch me, Raven,” he orders, pulling his hand out of my panties to lick my juices from his fingers. He holds my gaze the whole time, making sure I see him doing it. Making sure I know how much he likes the way I taste. “Stroke my cock.”
I give him what he wants, of course. Touching him is my favorite thing to do. Seeing the pleasure in his eyes, hearing it in each harshly panted breath. Watching his upper lip curl and his body quiver in response to my touch…. When I die, I want him to be the last thing I see. I want him to be the last thing I remember.
He’s hard silk in my hand, heavy and burning hot.
“Ah, God, baby girl,” he groans, writhing beneath my touch.
I smile, pleased by his reaction. He never hides the way he feels when I touch him. And no matter how many times I touch him, his reaction is always the same. There is no shame, no guilt. He doesn’t worry about what my father would say if he were still alive. He’s completely mine in these moments, as much a slave to his carnal need as I am.
I work his cock slowly, squeezing and releasing in time to the strains of music spilling out around us. He rocks his hips in the same rhythm, rising and falling as if compelled to follow the stroke of my hand.
“I want you, Rhys,” I whisper, dancing my fingertips across his balls.
“You have me.” He takes a step away from me so his dick falls from my hand. Even then, it stands at attention, pointing right toward me. He spins me around again, maneuvering me until my hands are against the wall, my hips canted back with my ass in the air.
“So sexy,” he growls, yanking my dress up. My panties are pushed to the side. And then he’s right there again, playing with me from behind, driving me crazy again. He doesn’t thrust into me, though. He teases me, mercilessly dragging me closer to another orgasm.
When I’m on the edge again, biting my cheek to keep from screaming a plea, he finally takes pity on me. He fills me in one hard thrust, not stopping until his hips are flush with my ass and I’m writhing on his cock. In pleasure. In pain. He’s so damn big. Every time he’s in me, I forget how to breathe.
He grunts, reveling in that first deep thrust and in how it feels to be connected again. He engulfs me as his body bows over mine. One hand tangles with mine against the wall, pinning me in place. His lips ghost across the back of my neck in silent, reverent prayer. My body erupts in chills, the kind I feel everywhere.
“You keep letting me in you bare, you’ll be carrying my kid soon, Raven,” he says.
I hear the desire in his voice, the ache. My own rises to meet it, just as poignant, just as powerful. I’d give this gorgeous man fifteen babies if he asked it of me, and I’d love every second of it.
“Don’t let anyone hear you,” he whispers.
He fucks me in slow, deep thrusts, pushing forward until the tip of his dick is against my cervix and then rocking back to do it all over again. He stays bent over me, keeping me pinned in place, my cheek against the rough, cool wood. When I turn my head slightly, I see the crowded bar. People move in flashes and flickers, no more than small parts of them visible—an arm here, the side of a face there.
Somehow, Rhys knows I’m watching them. Somehow, he knows me. Every naughty, wanton thought in my head, every forbidden desire. Nothing is secret from him. Whether that’s because he’s a detective or because I’m an open book, I don’t know. But I love it.
“Do you think any of them know what I’m doing to you back here, princess?” he asks.
