Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 249(@200wpm)___ 199(@250wpm)___ 166(@300wpm)
"Uh, because we didn't sign up for this torture tradition of yours?" Tryst retorts, one brow arched.
Oliver smacks him across the back of the head. "You want me to dance with you, baby girl?"
"Yes."
"Then let's dance." He grins at his wife, nudging me to let him up.
I grunt, shifting out of his way, without taking my eyes off Constance. Some prick in a baseball cap is eye-fucking her from the side of the dance floor, but she doesn't even notice. She's oblivious to the way men stare at her wherever she goes.
My hands ball into fists when the bastard licks his lips. I'm either going to kill him or fuck her raw in the middle of the dance floor. Those are really the only two options at this point.
Ridley's chair scraping across the floor is the only thing that keeps me from springing from my seat. I flick a glance in his direction to see him on his feet.
"I'm going to dance with Paisley."
Fuck. Is that why Constance keeps looking at me? Because she wants me to dance with her?
"If by dancing, you mean fucking in the bathroom, I will kill you," Tryst says cheerfully. "I do not need to hear that again."
Ridley flips him off, already heading toward the dance floor. I glance back at Constance. Take a breath.
Fuck it.
I haul myself to my feet.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Liam asks.
"Dance floor," I grunt, not even stopping to look at him as I weave my way through gyrating bodies right to Constance.
"Bastian," she gasps, melting against me when I press up against her from behind. She peeks at me over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide. "What are you doing?"
"Dancing with you before I have to kill someone for touching what belongs to me." I wrap one hand around her waist, the other around her throat. She moans softly as I grind my dick against her ass, swaying with her.
My eyes lock with the prick on the side of the dance floor. Yeah, you little bastard, she's mine. Fuck off.
He dips his head in a nod before walking away.
I flick my tongue against the side of Constance's throat, tasting the salt of her skin. Need pounds through me in time to the driving bass vibrating the floor beneath our feet.
"You move like a dream, baby," I rasp against her skin, raking my teeth down the tendon in the side of her throat. "I couldn't keep my eyes off you. Neither could any of the other little pricks here tonight."
"I'm just dancing."
"Liar." I nip her skin, my hand tightening around her perfect throat. "You wanted me watching, didn't you?"
"Maybe."
"You wanted me jealous and desperate."
"Yes," she moans. "I like the way you look at me when you're ready to snap, Bastian. I like being the one who pushes you over the edge." Her ass brushes my cock. "I like making you desperate."
I release her only long enough to grab her hand, pulling her across the dance floor. We dodge the other dancers, creating our own path right through the middle.
"Where are we going?" she asks breathlessly, but I don't bother answering, not until we're stepping off the dance floor on the far side, already hurrying toward the dark hall tucked in the corner.
"To give you what you really want," I murmur. "Now."
Her dilated eyes meet mine, "yes" already spilling from her perfect lips.
There's a line outside the women's bathroom, so I pull her into the men's. The only guy in the room is zipping up at the urinal. He glances up at us, surprise flaring in his dilated eyes when he sees her standing beside me, clinging to my arm. A fuzzy smile stretches across his face.
"Get the fuck out," I snap.
His smile slips, falling from his face as he stumbles toward the door. He doesn't say a word as he skirts around us, exiting the bathroom with all the haste of someone three drinks deep.
As soon as he's gone, I flip the lock, pressing her up against the door.
"I'm burning that fucking dress when we get home," I growl right before claiming her mouth in a brutal kiss. She gasps, allowing me to sweep my tongue into her mouth. I suck on hers, already dragging my fingertips up her thighs, desperate to touch her, to feel her falling apart around me again.
She moans and quivers as I flick her panties aside, breaking our kiss to drag my lips down the side of her throat. Her head thumps against the door, my name a soft groan on her lips.
"Take my cock out," I order, my thumb already running up her slit. She's so fucking wet for me already. She loved taunting me on that dance floor. Now, she gets to pay for it. "See what you've turned me into."
She fumbles with my zipper while I play with her, thrusting two fingers inside her to wreck and ruin her. I don't take it easy on her. Fuck that. She knew exactly what she was doing to me out there. Hell, she knew the minute she stepped into that dress.