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“Hey, are you wearing eyeliner?” I whisper, biting on my lip. Fuck, that’s sexy.
“Nail polish too. I’m funnelling my inner metrosexual self. Like it?” He lowers his lips to meet mine, pressing a sultry kiss against my mouth. His white blond hair is luminous in the UV light and his eyes sparkle with promises.
“I love it,” I smile.
York licks his lips, then grinds his hips against my back, moving at a slow tempo as his hands slide up over my thighs and hips. He takes in a sharp breath when he feels my suspender belt.
“Fuck me, is that what I think it is?”
I smile, biting my lip at his groan. “Yes.” Reaching behind me, my fingertips brush against his hips. “Is that leather?”
“Sure is, Titch. Feels fucking good, doesn’t it?” His fingers curl into my hips as he brushes his teeth over the shell of my ear. I can feel his thickening cock digging into my lower back, the soft material of his leather trousers rubbing against the space between my bustier and silky shorts.
“Where’s Zayn?” I whisper.
“He’ll be here in a minute, Titch,” York responds before spinning me in his arms.
Holding onto me, he drops me backwards in a dip. The beat of the music thumps in time to my heart and clit as York bends over me and slides his hand down my neck between my breasts, then smooths over my stomach before lifting me back up. We grind against one another, dry humping to the beat of the music. He grows harder, and I grow wetter. Somewhere between the entrance and the dancefloor, I left behind my inhibitions and it feels so fucking good.
“Fuck, Titch. This is dangerous,” he mutters before lowering his mouth to mine and licking the seam of my lips. When he grasps my chin, pushes my head to the side and runs an open-mouthed kiss down my throat, my heartrate kicks up a notch.
“What are you doing?” I pant breathlessly.
“Tonight, I’m fulfilling all your fantasies.”
Then he bites me. I nearly come in my knickers.
With my core throbbing and the skin on my neck stinging from his bruising bite, York spins me back around, one large palm cupping my throat, the other resting over my pubic bone, his middle finger tantalisingly close to my clit.
“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” York mutters, the tenor of his voice dropping with a growl. I follow his gaze and can see Xeno standing on the other side of the dance floor, he’s talking to Dax who alternates between staring at us both like he wants to commit murder and then looking back at Xeno with a scowl.
“What are they doing here?” I ask, perplexed.
“Zayn might’ve dropped a hint that you’d be here tonight.”
“And they came?”
“Looks that way.”
“Why?”
“This is a sex club, Titch, andyou’rein it.”
“I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to mean…”
York smiles into my neck, running his lips over the bare skin of my shoulder as my chest heaves under his ministrations. “Sometimes all anyone needs is a little push…”
Across the dancefloor, Zayn joins Xeno and Dax. He glances at me and smiles. Xeno notices and grasps hold of Zayn’s arm and whispers into his ear all the while looking directly at me. Even from over the other side of the club I can feel his hate. It burns as hot as York’s kisses against my skin. Well, fuck him. He didn’t have to come here tonight.
I hold his stare until he looks away. Zayn snatches his arm back and says something back to Xeno. If I were a betting woman I would guess he’s telling him to fuck right off. I feel momentarily guilty for getting between them before I give myself a stern talking to. They’re grown men, they can handle their own shit.
My eyes flick to Dax who is, once again, staring at me, and I know he’s fighting with himself. I can see his indecision and the need in his eyes. God, I miss him.
Fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound, right?
York must be able to read my thoughts because he lowers his mouth to my ear and says, “Let’s give him something to think about, shall we?”
York’s hand slides lower and his finger settles over the top of my silky shorts, rubbing against my clit. I allow my head to fall back against York’s chest, and my eyelids to fall to half-mast as I let out a low moan. From where he’s standing, Dax won’t be able to hear me over the music, but there’s no mistaking what’s happening. He’d have to be blind not to notice.
