AllFreeNovel
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I float through the rest of the dinner, riding the high of feeling Kell all over me—his touch, taste, and scent.
The banquet hall is dressed to look decrepit and derelict, but the tables are magnificent. A small orchestra in the corner of the room, the musicians dressed up like zombies, plays current pop songs. It's divine. Every detail has been thought out to bring the whole evening together.
I’m sandwiched between Kellen and Xander. Xander’s model is glued to his other side, while Orla and Anthony complete the table on Kellen’s other side. We’re having a blast guessing which tune the orchestra’s playing, the loser of each round taking a shot. Other guests clue in to what we’re doing as we get louder and louder, and soon other people at other tables are embroiled.
Kellen, of course, decides the whole room has to play, and—being the exhibitionist that he is—stands on the table to get everyone involved. It's chaos. People have to run up to Kellen and whisper the correct title in his ear. Shouter-outers have to take two shots. So, basically, Kell is busy getting everyone plastered.
I move over to sit with Orla, each of us situated on one of Bug’s massive thighs. Grace comes over with Kenny in tow, easily joining the mayhem, and we spend the remainder of dinner laughing, drinking, and talking. They are brilliant company.
And then the bell tolls.
The master of ceremonies stands to announce it’s ten minutes to midnight, and we should all make our way to the main arena.
I look over at Xander and, with a tremor in my voice, ask “Is it going to be okay?” He just laughs and blows me a kiss. Honestly, that man. He’s so blase compared to my trepidation of what is ahead of me.
Before I can follow the others, Kellen grasps the back of my neck. A low growl and hot breath command, “Stay here, Kitten. Don’t move yet. We’ll wait until everyone is in.”
Without looking back at him, keeping my voice as steady and good humoured as possible, I whisper, “I’m nervous Kellen. Xander is blowing kisses at me.”
I’m only half joking, but he reads me too well. And when he turns me towards him, I reach for reassurance in his expression and his words.
“You’ll love it, Evie. Nothing to worry about. I won’t let anyone see you or hear you. You have my word.”
I can’t say that helped. My stomach is in turmoil and I can even feel the butterflies raging. I’m not even sure if it's due to excitement or terror. Maybe both. I nod at him and say okay. He turns my attempt at a light kiss into a full on make out session, and by the time he lets me go, there’s only a few people left—Anthony, Orla, Grace, Kenny, and the band and their associated partners.
Xander asks if we’re ready and herds everyone through into the black Marquee, with Kellen and I at the rear.
I can feel the excitement pouring from him. Fuck. It’s making me more nervous. But my body is obviously picking up on something else, something primal, as I feel a deep throb at my core and my senses start to hum. My pulse is beating a drum in my neck and my breathing has picked up.
Kellen looks at my neck and thrums his fingers over it. His pupils have totally taken over his eyes. He licks my neck and takes a long inhale, his voice a low rumble against my skin. “You smell divine, Kitten.”
The wild look in his eyes has me quivering, not sure whether to run or drop to my knees and suck him off.
Pushing me forward, he leads me to sit in one of the huge black velvet settees. They’re large enough for four people, with small inset shelves housing beautiful gift boxes. Maybe these are party gift boxes? I go to lift the delicate lid, but Kell pulls me to sit in his lap, claiming the space, ensuring no one else sits with us. The sides and back are high and curved, so once you're seated you can’t see around them. While we can’t see anyone else, we can hear them moving and talking quietly.
It’s pitch black and a few ladies giggle out nervously, their voices silenced when the lights go up on a stage. It’s set slightly higher, giving everyone in the room an unobstructed view. Two people stand in the middle, their old fashioned clothes maintaining the theme of vampires and the undead. Even fully clothed, you can tell the man in the pair is well-muscled. The woman’s hair is midnight black, and so glossy it shines out under the lights. She’s slender and tall—at least five feet ten inches to my eyes—but still not as tall as the man, even in heels. And her curiously blank expression transforms her into a radiant beauty when she smiles at the man.
He asks her to dance and they start to move in a slow waltz. It soon becomes apparent this is no ordinary waltz. His hand placement, how he moves her into positions and touches areas never touched on Strictly, it’s one of the most erotic things I’ve ever watched. I’m mesmerised.
And I have not once looked at Kellen.
He’s moved to sit behind me, and I become aware of him again as he touches me across the back of my neck, exactly where the man on the stage has touched the woman. He continues to mimic the movements and touches of the man on the stage. My breath stalls as I watch the dancer on stage and wait for Kellen’s hands on me. Kissing, licking, biting, touching, Kellen follows him faithfully. I can’t breathe. My anticipation is off the charts. I’m panting like an unfit marathon runner, and I can hear other sensual noises surrounding us. I let the sound envelope me, let it take me into the darkness.
Kellen has not said a word throughout all of this, his lips, teeth, and tongue fully consumed with following the progression laid before us on stage.
I am so turned on, I press my thighs together to try to get some friction on my clit. I’m clenching down on nothing, trying to make me feel more.
The man on stage pulls down the front of the woman’s dress, revealing her breasts, and as she sways from side to side, he pulls one into his mouth. She pulls at his shirt and it comes apart in her hands, showing off his tanned, muscled torso.
Kellen chuckles and says, “No ripping for you, Kitten.” But he’s undone my dress around my neck and pulls it down, releasing my aching breasts so he can grasp them from behind.
I hesitate, as I’m not sure about him exposing my boobs to the world in this room full of people, and he feels my pause. “No one can see us, Evie. And if you’re quiet, no one can hear us. Just you and me, baby. Oh, and them,” he whispers, pointing up on the stage.
Massaging my breasts as I moan into his mouth, he croons, “I know, Kitten. I know. I’ll make it feel better soon.” I push my breasts into his hands and feel him grin against the sensitive flesh below my ear. “Let’s play, Evie. You and me.”
I become pure sensation.
He moves, I follow.
