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It was so naughty, so sinful, so improper, this entire situation, and yet, she couldn’t have stopped—didn’t want to stop—his hand from seeking the spot that ached for his touch.
He hissed as he reached the junction of her thighs. “Fucking hell. Your panties are drenched.”
One finger slipped under the wet fabric, and the touch on her lust-swollen skin made her jerk and moan. He made a similar sound of raw need, and then he palmed her completely underneath her panties, putting pressure on the entire area around her clit.
“Tallak,” she whispered, knowing his demon hearing would pick it up over the sound of the music. “You’re killing me.”
She barely heard his answer, for it was so quiet. “Ditto.”
He entered her with two fingers, making her jolt against him, a low moan escaping her. His hand on her throat tightened for a second, then languidly stroked her as his fingers below thrust in and out.
With her eyes open, she could see her surroundings while he pleasured her, the throng of people moving more or less in sync with the music, lost to the beat and the ecstasy of dancing. Most of them were wrapped up in their own experience, focused either on their partner or on dancing alone. Few let their eyes roam, and those who did would likely see her and Tallak as just another couple dancing in a tight embrace.
If they looked closer, though, they might see his hand up her skirt, might notice how the way she undulated wasn’t quite to the beat of the music.
It was this risk of detection, the danger of being caught doing something inappropriate, that gave her the most illicit thrill. It wickedly catapulted her mounting arousal through the stratosphere.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Tallak’s hot breath on her neck made her shiver. “So close to coming amid all these people, in public, where anyone could see you.”
She bit back another moan, pushing against his fingers that relentlessly moved in and out, while the ball of his hand rubbed over her clit just so. The pressure inside her coiled ever tighter.
“So come on my hand, love,” he growled against her ear. “Right here. Right now. I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers until you come undone and your juices are running down my hand. All while anyone could be watching you.”
His words tipped her over. Pushing against the pressure of his hand, she shattered under the force of an orgasm that blacked out her thoughts, razed all tension inside her in a surge of pure bliss. Tallak caught her keening moan with a kiss and held her upright with his arm around her waist when her legs wanted to give out.
With a last lingering stroke between her thighs, he withdrew his hand and turned her around so she faced him. His eyes glittered with dark hunger as he raised the hand that had pleasured her and brought his fingers to her mouth.
Breath coming heavily, she opened for him, spellbound by the intensity of his gaze. The slick wetness coating his fingers filled her mouth with the flavor of her own arousal—the first time ever that she’d tasted herself. Surprisingly, she liked it. In another wicked turn this night, it only added to the wanton lust that seemed to pulse beneath her very skin.
She had somehow become a creature of base desires and forbidden pursuits.
And it was that primal, unapologetically-pleasure-seeking side of her that now palmed his erection through his pants and whispered, “What about you?”
The amber in his eyes flared like sparks from a fire, but he caught her wrist and pulled her hand away. “A bit more difficult to do in public. There’s always a certain something that needs to be cleaned up, you know.”
“Or swallowed.” Her lips quirked up at the corners, the look she shot him all challenge.
He raised a brow. “My, my. Where has prim and proper Hazel gone?”
“She’s currently quietly weeping in a dark corner somewhere inside of me and rocking back and forth in a fetal position, bemoaning her loss of decency.”
Laughter in those mesmerizing eyes of his. “And who are you, then?”
“The Hazel who’d rather have you moaning under her touch.”
“I should get you drunk more often,” he muttered and whisked her off the dance floor to one of the booths, picking the very last one in the corner of the room, steeped more in shadows than the others.
As before, he commandeered the booth with a demonic snarl and a murderous scowl, and the current occupants scrambled out of it as if bitten by fire ants.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I admit it—your social aggression does come in handy when looking for a place to sit.”
“Finally, some fucking recognition.” He pulled her down into the booth with a roguish grin. “What’s next—you telling me my swearing secretly gets you off?”
She pressed her lips together tightly, her smile coy as she looked up at him from underneath her lashes.
“Fucking hell, it does.” He laughed against her mouth as he pulled her in for a kiss. “The revelations just keep on coming.”
“Shouldn’t you be coming soon?”
