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Loved. That word kept coming up when I thought about her. It felt strange, even dangerous, like I was betting for the highest odds.
I’d always been a risk-taker. Couldn’t stop now.
“How’s your date?” I said as she stepped closer, and I brushed my hand down her bare arm. Goosebumps ignited as I touched her and it made me grin.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s been trying to explain property taxes to me like I’m five. Apparently, he’s really into real estate. And he thought my name was Jenny.”
Switching places with her, I pressed close behind her as I watched her face in the mirror. Her breath hitched as my hands came around her waist, caressing low on her dress. Someone could have walked in at any moment, but the risk of being caught made my heart beat faster.
“You look so gorgeous.” I left the words in whispered kisses along her neck; I dug them into her skin as I held her tight. She’d tried to cover the hickeys on her neck and had done a damn good job. But up close, I could still see the marks through the makeup.
Our marks. Our girl. Ours.
Fuck the game. She could go on playing if she wanted, but this was no game to me. It never was.
“That motherfucker has no idea how lucky he is,” I said, my voice a whisper that made her shiver. “Sitting at a table with a fucking goddess and all he can do is talk about his own damn self. Shameful.”
She braced herself on the edge of the marble sink with a gasp as I shoved her forward. I pulled up her dress, peeling the fabric over her ass like it was the juiciest peach. White strappy panties hugged the curve of her hips, and I took a moment to enjoy the sight of her like that: bent over, dress shoved up, her beautiful legs spread for me.
Humming appreciatively as I traced my finger up the inside of her thighs, I said, “What a good girl. You know exactly how to get into position for me.”
“I’ve had some practice,” she said, winking at me in the mirror. Her tone had grown husky, and she sounded so fucking sexy. I slid down her panties, and she bit her lip. “Someone might come in.”
“You’re right.” The panties fell to her ankles. “Someone might come in, see you bent over the sink being eaten out, and maybe they’ll even stay to watch.”
Holding the image of her blushing face in my mind, I knelt behind her and buried my face in her. I lapped my tongue over her, savoring every sweet bit of flesh I could possibly consume. The taste of her was intoxicating, as was the way her body moved with me, reacting when I got it right.
She groaned softly, and I grabbed her thighs, holding her in place.
“Shh, don’t be too loud, angel,” I said, then proceeded to eat her until her gasping little cries became too much for her to control. Her legs were trembling and her face was flushed as I stood, wiping my lips with the back of my hand.
“Please don’t stop now,” she whispered. “Please.”
But she knew what I liked, and I liked her on edge: shaking for me, waiting for me, riding the pleasure until I decided she’d had enough.
“I have one more treat for you,” I said, reaching for the pocket inside my blazer. “I don’t want you to forget for one single second who owns you. Who gets to be inside you.”
I pulled out her jeweled plug and a bottle of lube, and her eyes widened.
“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Oh, fuck...”
“The entire time you’re sitting there with him, this is what you’ll feel.” I squeezed the lube onto my fingers, spreading it over her and probing my fingers into her. “I own this ass. I own your pussy, your clit, this entire gorgeous body, every goddamn inch of you...is mine. It’s Lucas’s. It’s Jason’s. It’s Vincent’s.” She clenched her hands into fists in an effort to be silent, shuddering with pleasure as my fingers pumped into her. “You’re ours, and I want you to remember that every time you squirm and feel how tight this plug is inside you.”
She watched me in the mirror as I stretched her, before I lubed up the toy and pressed it inside. She whimpered softly, and her eyes fluttered when it settled fully inside her. I pulled up her panties and adjusted her dress, lifting her from the sink so I could get a good look at her.
“It’s like it’s not even there,” I said, before I gave her a quick smack on the ass, and her eyes lit up. “Better get back out there before your date starts to worry.”
She was breathing deeply, trying to compose herself.
“Damn it, Manson.” Her voice shuddered. “Sometimes I think you’re the devil himself, with the way you make me feel.”
She couldn’t have paid me a higher compliment.
She returned to her table, and I went back to the bar a minute later. The bartender had been kind enough to keep an eye on my drink, so I tipped well before ordering another. I really wasn’t a big drinker; my relationship with alcohol was cautious at best, considering what I’d seen it do to my parents. But I was enjoying myself even more than I’d expected to and wanted to indulge.
They ordered their food and Greg was still talking, although he’d finally asked her where she worked. I ordered a white wine and had it sent to her table because she damn well was going to need it; fuck whatever red wine swill he’d stuck her with. When I told the bartender not to say who it was from, he chuckled and luckily went along with it.
Greg was pissed about the wine and was looking around like he was going to beat someone’s face in. As if he had the right. As if he had any claim to her.
