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I told him before he wouldn’t touch me before the wedding. My eyes flick to the glass of wine before me. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink, and that’s why I don’t shove him away. That has to be it. There’s no other explanation as to why I’m allowing him to caress me this way.
“I can assure you, the reward will be far better than anything you can get from your books,” he growls. Air catches in my throat, but I don’t move away. He sees the look in my eye. “Do you trust me?”
Damn him. When I’d said we needed to build trust, I’d meant swapping stories about our past, maybe learning each other’s favorite colors or some shit like that. This is definitely not what I had in mind. I open my mouth to tell him off, but the words never come. My mind’s too focused on the feeling of his fingers against my thigh to form anything of real consequence.
His touch skims the edge of my thong, running his finger over the lace lining. There’s a spark in his eyes that tells me he’s enjoying this a bit too much. And I still don’t move away. It’s as if I’ve been glued to my seat, my legs firmly clamped together to stifle the heat flaring between them. My heart hammers against my chest wildly.
His fingers slip beneath the hem of my thong, and he hisses in surprise when he feels the smoothness of my skin. “Expecting someone tonight?”
I grit my teeth. “If you think this is for your benefit, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Either way, it works for me.”
That asshole. A biting response is on the tip of my tongue when his fingers trail lower, drawing a gasp from my lips in response. Fire surges down my spine only to strike right back up as he squeezes my thigh before slipping a finger beneath the soft material of my underwear. My thoughts scatter again just as the waiter reappears with another man trailing behind him. They say nothing about the new table arrangement, deftly setting our food before us. The white tablecloth drapes over our laps, hiding Killian’s antics. I shift uncomfortably, but he only presses against my clit harder. I jump in my seat, entirely focusing on what’s happening between my thighs. His gaze never leaves my face, watching me closely.
When the waiters disappeared again, he continued his exploration. I swallowed thickly as I felt the lasting sensations of his touch reverberating through my core. My muscles throbbed where they sat clenched together, too afraid to draw his attention any deeper. Heat curls its way through my body, burning me up with desire before I could rationally push that feeling away.
“Would you like to play a game?” he asks quietly. “A way for us to get to know each other a little better.”
“I think you and I have very different ideas about the meaning of getting to know each other,” I bite out, clamping my thighs closer together. But that only manages to lock his hand between them, his fingers deftly playing over my clit as if he’s done this a thousand times.
Which he probably has.
Killian grins devilishly, and the look sends a flare of heat across my cheeks. “Are you backing down from the challenge then?”
I glare back at him, food entirely forgotten. “I didn’t say that.”
“Alright then.” He pulls back, and I bite back the whimper that threatens to give me away. “Truth or dare.”
“Isn’t that a little cliche?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
“Maybe. But I find it extremely effective when getting to know someone.” He says, unbothered by my words. “So…Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” There was no way I trusted him enough to give me a dare I won’t regret. Especially when his thumb is still circling my clit, making my muscles twitch with each gentle fondle.
Pure sin dances in his eyes as if he’d been expecting my answer. “Do you find me attractive?”
“No.” I ignored the slight ping of guilt at the little white lie. My eyes close as his finger pauses on my clit, the lack of movement nearly driving me just as mad.
“Cara,” he warns. “It’s Truth or Dare, not Lie or Dare.”
“That is the truth.” My fingers twist the napkin in my lap harder.
He says nothing for a moment before tilting his head. “Your turn.” He adds a second finger, brushing along the soft folds of my pussy before going back up to my clit. My legs twitch, clamping around his hand.
“Truth or dare?” I ask, forcing myself to sound more confident than I was. He leaves me in suspense, scooping his fork into the middle of the already cut lobster, filled with Parmesan, bread crumbs, and parsley. My eyes track the movement of his fork, watching as his lips wrap around the small bite of food.
“Truth,” he replies, washing down the food with wine.
“Why did you want to become underboss?” I ask for the second time. Irritation flashes across his face before he can hide it.
“Because I wanted to,” is his curt reply. “Truth or dare?”
I clench my jaw, knowing I won’t get any real answers out of him tonight. So much for building trust. He watches me expectantly, already guessing my reply. “Dare.”
Killian perks up. Leaning in closer, he fixes me with a dark look. “I dare you to take off your panties. Right now.”
“You can’t be serious,” I mutter. But I can see that he is.
