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"Because she's not your fucking piece. You want a drink, flag down one of the actual servers," Dante says.
He tightens his grip on the leash, and the collar digs into my throat. His knee knocks into my shoulder gently, a silent apology.
The next two men jump into the ring, circling each other. There's no gong, no announcer. Only last-minute bets and the screaming crowd.
I fix my eyes on the two men grappling with each other. Fists and legs and blood flies with little regard to where they land. It's brutal and inhumane, yet I can't look away, like a car crash or an execution.
My father didn't insist I attend as many of the disciplinary meetings as my brother, but he forced me to watch a couple. They were exactly like this, systematic and messy all at the same time. I hated them more because they were exhilarating in a way I didn't want to examine too closely.
I wonder if my upbringing broke me in a fundamental way. Normal people don't live like I did. Add in my time at the Guild and I'm pretty sure the only world I'd be able to function in is the criminal world. I understand the mafia. I get how it works. And no one there would blink an eye at the brutal darkness I hide deep within.
Dante tugs me up, and I trail behind him as he approaches the makeshift bar they've set up on the side of the room. He orders, leaning against the counter as he surveys the fight. I sink to my knees, but he grabs my arm, hauling me close to his side. His fingers dig into my hip and I jolt, falling into him. He massages the spot. I tuck my leg between his, turning my face into his chest. Hiding is the only way I'll get through this night.
Seventeen
Dante
"Relax, Aelia," I whisper in her ear.
She shivers, then her leg slides along mine, and my cock twitches. This was a bad idea. A very fucking bad idea. I needed to be here tonight, though, and leaving her behind wasn't an option. I caught Grant sneaking around our door, being suspicious as fuck. I'm not about to let him get his hands on her.
Jenkins’s "gift" isn't what I would have chosen. When Aelia ripped it from my hands after I told her we'd find another way, I thought she'd toss it out of the window. Instead, she slipped it around her throat. I had to walk away so I wouldn't devour her. My cock has been hard ever since. I don’t know if it’s the collar or the fact she took control that makes me want her even more.
Her grinding against me isn't helping the situation either. My hand slips down to her ass of its own accord. When I squeeze the firm flesh, her breath hitches. I nip at the soft skin of her neck right above the collar. Her hands grip my belt, tugging me closer. Not that there's much space between our bodies.
She gasps, sliding her cunt along my thigh, seeking friction wherever she can get it. I should stop this before it goes any further, but she feels too good in my arms. The bartender sets my drink at my elbow, not even batting an eye at us. It's enough to wake me up, though.
Clearly, Aelia needs to ease the tension swirling through her. It’s something I can help her with when there’s so little I can do for her on the whole. I'd rather Byron and the other men trickling into the room not watch her come.
Grabbing the drink, I slam the whole thing back, then grip her ass to pick her up, and her legs wrap around my waist. When she lifts her head, she tenses. Stalking from the room, I head straight for a storage closet tucked away in the back. It's a better option than the bathroom. These types of places pop up in the grimiest parts of the city, and the facilities within them leave something to be desired.
Kicking the door shut behind me, I lower her slowly. As her body slides against mine, I grit my teeth. She's not ready for me to fuck her. My cock doesn't really care, but I can take care of myself in the shower later.
I lean against the door since there's no lock and mold her body to mine. Sliding my hand into her hair, I tip her head back. Desire drips down her face, darkening her brown eyes to almost black. I dip my other hand under her flimsy tank top, caressing her soft skin. She arches her back, pressing her tits into my chest.
"Dante," she whimpers, then bites her lip.
"Take what you need," I murmur, running my thumb across her lips.
"I...I need..." she stutters, and her tongue darts out.
I rest my forehead on hers as I slip my hand back to her ass and push my thigh against her weeping cunt. My cock strains against my zipper and I grunt, trying to focus on her pleasure. I've never met a woman who can drive me to the edge this quickly. Especially when I'm not even inside of her.
She grinds on me, panting in time with her movements. I slide both hands to her hips, holding her up as her knees shake. Needy noises fall from her as her breath ghosts across my cheek. When her tongue darts out again, she runs it along my bottom lip.
Her eyes find mine and she leans in, biting the soft flesh. I groan, and she presses her mouth to mine. Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, I angle her head, deepening the kiss and swallowing the delicious sounds coming from her.
She pulls away, gasping. A cry of frustration leaves her, and she stops.She shakes her head, trying to pull from my arms.
"I'm sorry," she whispers shakily.
I cling to her, not ready to let her go. "You just need a little help."
I spin her around and tuck her back to my chest. She tenses, clutching at my arm, and I freeze. After a minute, she guides my hand under her shirt, and I suck in a shuddering breath. Her soft skin is too much for my cock, and it pushes against her ass, seeking her warmth.
"Let me help, Aelia," I breathe. "Tell me to help you."
She nods, her own hand reaching back and gripping my thigh. The leash hangs between her tits, the cold chain brushing my arm.
