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“That could be arranged.” Moving his fingers higher, he traced the edge of her panties, adding another layer to her already painful arousal. “I can’t promise an exclusive, but I can give you the first interview.”
“That’s fair.”
She wasn’t quite quick enough to smother her gasp when he finally slipped a finger under her panties and into her aching pussy. “Naughty girl,” he admonished, dropping his voice to a low rumble. “Naughty, dirty little girl, getting all wet for Daddy in the middle of dinner.”
As he spoke, his finger moved inside her, sending shivers of pleasure through her with every stroke of his hand. “Daddy, please,” she whispered, humiliated to find herself begging him to make her come in the middle of a restaurant.
But the embarrassment only added to her arousal, and her hips jerked against his hand before she could stop herself.
“Sit still, baby. Daddy gets to decide when you come, not you.”
Though the words were delivered in a perfectly calm, even voice, he still managed to make her feel thoroughly chastised. “Sorry, Daddy.”
And then, to add to her humiliation, the waiter approached their table, a wide, almost too-sincere smile on his face. “How is everyone enjoying dinner? Can I get you anything?”
“Everything is delicious,” Cyrus assured him without bothering to remove his hand from between her thighs. “I don’t believe we are in need of anything at the moment, but thank you.”
“You are welcome, sir. Enjoy! I’ll be back later to check on you.”
Chuckling, Cyrus turned back to her and whispered in her ear. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay gone for a bit.”
“Oh, god.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and she wrapped a hand around his wrist, giving it a futile tug. “I can’t believe you had that whole conversation with your fingers…there!”
“Hands on the table, Ace. Touch me again, and you won’t get to come tonight at all.”
There was enough heat behind the threat to have her hands moving immediately to the top of the table. “Daddy, please…”
At this point, she wasn’t sure if she was begging him to keep going or begging him to stop, but she was absolutely certain he didn’t really care. He was going to do whatever he wanted, and there was nothing she could do to stop him short of calling her safe word.
“There’s a good girl,” he crooned quietly, resuming his stroking. “Keep your hands there and come for Daddy like the good fucking girl you are.”
His words more than anything shoved her straight over the edge, the orgasm ripping through her with so much force she had to grip the table and swallow back a scream before she alerted the whole restaurant to what was going on.
“Gods, you’re beautiful when you come.” With a final stroke of his finger, he pulled his hand away, his eyes locked on her as he lifted the arousal-soaked digit to his lips and sucked the juices from his skin.
“Um. Thanks?” Her voice was still shaky from the quick, explosive orgasm, but she managed to put a little snark behind the words.
“You’re welcome, Ace. Now.” Placing a finger under her chin, he turned her head toward him, the scent of her own arousal filling her nostrils. “Look me in the eye and tell me again that you aren’t my little girl every single second of every single day.”
A sarcastic retort sat on her tongue. But when she opened her mouth, it was the truth that sprang from her lips.
“I’m yours, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Finish your wine and we’ll get a couple to-go boxes.” Leaning in, he brushed his lips over hers. “I’m suddenly craving dessert.”
ChapterSeventeen
Two days had passed since his swearing in, and he hadn’t heard a word from Adrian since their dinner that night.
It was making him antsy.
Like a spider in the bedroom, Adrian posed the greatest threat when you couldn’t track his movements. Cole had agreed to put a man on him yesterday, at least while he was in the city, but so far, they’d just reported him moving from his hotel suite to the in-house restaurant and back again. Nothing unusual, and certainly nothing to be worried about.
Which, as far as Cyrus was concerned, was just more reason to worry.
At least Mina wasn’t giving the guards a hard time, though she still grumbled about them and referred to them as her “goon squad” several times a day. But as long as she didn’t try to shake them, he didn’t really give a flying rat’s ass what she called them.
An alert on his phone notified him that Adrian had left his hotel and gotten into a “nondescript sedan” and was headed in the general direction of the Guild headquarters. Apparently, he was going to get the confrontation he’d been waiting for after all.
