Page 55 of Tipping Point

The crew is looking at us curiously.

“That’s it,” I say to Bruce. “Un-mike him.”

Bruce steps up to remove the microphone from Finn’s lapel. And I have had enough.

I turn on my heel and walk away.

I am shaking all over. He’s proving his point, that there are women who wouldn’t ask him for more, not if he owned a two-and-a-half-million-dollar diamond necklace.

I make it halfway across the dance floor when Finn grabs me by the upper arm, and before I can whip it from his grasp, he spins me into a turn and pulls me into a waltz. The orchestra is strumming away happily, and he guides us into the throng of dancing couples.

“Fuck you,” I spit at him, face turned away, body pressed against his as he pulls me close, spinning me away.

“I really wish you would.” He’s angry too.

“You’ve proved your point; how shallow women can be.”

“Actually, I bought it because I’m shallow.”

He takes his hand from mine and grabs my chin, turning my face towards his.

He pulls me right up against him with his hand on my back, fingers splayed over my skin, close, touching everywhere, his breath mingling with mine.

It takes my breath away, the hardness of him.

“I want to fuck you while you wear it,” he growls softly.

I can feel him pressing against me.

“Camille.” God, how he says it. “I want you out of this dress with that diamond collar around your neck and I want you to wrap your legs around my shoulders with those fucking heels on and when you come, I want to feel it in your thighs.”

He’s never spoken to me like this. He’s always been reserved. He’s not giving me his soul, but he’s showing me a side of him I don’t know. He’s stating what he wants, and he expects me to answer, one way or another.

I’m struggling to think. No one’s ever spoken to me this way, so brazen and direct. It turns me on. I can feel my breath catch in my throat and that delicious warmth low in my belly.

Why now?

We hear a gong reverberate through the room. It’s midnight.

Around us, the other guests are unmasking themselves, laughing and joking.

He rips his mask from his face, and he’s wearing a look of naked hunger. He brings his hand to the base of my skull and presses the side of my face against his, speaking into my ear.

“You owe me nothing. I’ll spend as much money as I want on what I want. That doesn’t concern you.” His hands on my back slip lower and pull me closer still.

His dick, pressed firmly against me, is turning me on even more. How he desires me. It’s setting my skin on fire.

I won’t be here much longer. Dixon will take my place soon enough. If I want this, now is the time. While I could still walk away. I want to say yes. But I don’t know if I’ll lose something of myself if I do.

“Beg me,” I hear myself whisper into his ear.

He stills against me. His breathing in my ear is ragged. His fingers dig into my back.

His voice when he speaks is a low, angry growl.

“Camille, I am begging you. Let me make you come.”

In this scenario, only he gets what he wants. And if I lose, I want him to lose too.

---