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He takes a minute to watch me, unspeaking, seeming to study the annoying red heat I feel spreading across my cheeks.
“That’s okay, Indigo,” he finally says. “I’ll suffer through your attempts at chastity with you.”
I shake my head. “Why?”
He drops his head to mine, his lips hovering an inch from my cheek. “Because I know when something’s worth waiting for.” His hand squeezes mine so tightly. “I’m not used to waiting, Indigo, or to chasing, but with you, it’s half the pleasure.”
The way he utters the last word makes me mess up my footing again, dropping my gaze to figure out what my feet are doing, and whether they’ve decided to tell on me for my whiskey-downing ways.
When I look back up, his countenance is rougher, with hints of disapproval laced into his impossibly beautiful face.
“I saw you take that man’s drink,” he says, his jaw tightening.
“Oh, you did?” I respond, faux-innocently. “It was sweet of him, wasn’t it?”
“It wasdangerous,” he responds after a moment, eyes darkening. “That’s not how you should ever procure a drink, Indigo.”
“What, you think he’d lace his own drink in the hopes some socially unconventional woman just happens to ask to down it to cope with her anxiety?”
“I thinkthat you’ve shown me no signs that you’re cognizant of any dangers around you.”
I peer behind him as one tune morphs into another—Only you knowby Dion, I think—and the other bridesmaids and auction winners take to the dancefloor along with the bride and groom, hopefully cranking down the heat of watchful eyes a notch.
“Well, sorry, but I don’t have to show you anything.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he replies, the final words encased in a growl. “You don’t take drinks from other men anymore. In fact, I don’t want to see you talking to other men for the rest of the wedding.”
“Are you out of your mind?” I stammer. “Did some poor unfortunate give you the memo that you buying these dances meant you could boss me around for the rest of the day?”
He pulls me into him. “You’ll be doing what I tell you to until I see signs that you’re able to muster up the most basic survival skills for more than five minutes.”
“Sorry, but you’re not my boss anymore, and I don’t have to do anything you say.”
“I don’t recall you obeying my orders even when I was your boss,” he responds.
“Exactly,” I sing, deliberately provoking him with a smile. “And if you think I’m capitulating to your asinine commands outside the workplace, you can think again.”
Quiet mirth reflects in his silver-flecked eyes. “Well, at least I now know what you think of my instructions.”
“Yes, you do… if you didn’t already,” I mutter.
“I don’t want to see you ever taking drinks from men again.”
I shake my head. “I should have known…”
“What?”
“Well, not only do we women get auctioned off like cattle, but of course, the men who buy us suddenly think they have some kind of ownership over us… though I highly doubt you’d understand. You don’t strike me as the feminist type.”
His poised gaze ambles to the people around us before returning to my face, dropping to my lips which he regards most indecently, even by his standards.
“I'm currently unable to think of anything but how much pleasure I want to give you. That’s my version of feminism, Indigo.”
It's very, very difficult to chew someone out for their outrageous behavior when that same conduct is currently setting off fireworks in your panties. My clit tingles and my pussy begins to pulsate as I try to remember where I am and not jump up, straddle his waist and beg him to bounce me up and down his cock.
He takes in my nervous swallow and what I know to be the increasing reddening of my face.
“Did you think of me after you left?” he asks.
