Page 142 of Fallen Omega

Knight strokes it. His eyes glint but he doesn’t say a word, just opens the sleek black car’s door and pulls me to him. “The dress looks fantastic, and you, Liz, are beyond perfection.”

He helps me into the car.

The dressisstunning. I strap myself in and he leans forward, saying something to the driver I don’t catch. The fabric is the darkest chocolate, the bitter kind that’s almost too much to enjoy, and it’s cut low in the front, showing off my cleavage. It skims my body to my waist and hips where it ends mid-thigh.

I feel naked. Sophisticated. Naughty. The heels are high and spiked, and the stockings are sheer. He didn’t provide me with a bra but the panties are things I’ve never worn in my life. I’m not even sure I can call them actual underwear. They’re wispy, lace. See through and barely there. Just scraps.

With them on, I’m wanton, aware of every brush against my sex, and how they cling as I moisten under his gaze.

“Fuck,” he says, leaning in, licking up my throat and sliding a hand over my breasts. My nipples turn hard. “I’m tempted to skip the dinner and the seduction and just take you.”

My nervous system swoops and spins and I stutter out a breath. “Would you do that?”

He slips a hand along my thigh and my legs open for him. He brushes against my slit. “Hot, wet and ready.”

“Knight—”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

“Daddy, touch me, please…”

“You’re such a good, perfect girl and with a soft, sweet kitty. Daddy likes to pet it. Open more for me.”

I swallow as my eyes flutter shut and I do as asked. Knight slides a finger beneath the sodden lace and runs it along my lips, sending fiery sparks through me. He dips inside and I shudder, pleasure surging.

But he’s as cruel as Dante. He takes his finger away and sucks it clean, leaning right in. “After. If you’re a good girl. And call me Daddy during dinner.”

Everything snaps back to reality and I shove him from me. “I’m not calling you that in public.”

Knight laughs. “Now that, Liz, is a punishable offense.”

“You’re horrible.”

“No, I’m fantastically wicked.”

I press my nose to the window as the different worlds of Starlight City flash by. We go from grunge to poor to industrial to business. And then we’re in the heart of it all. Bright lights and beautiful people move at a fast pace to get to wherever they’re going. We pass fancy shops and theaters and I remember being here once, as a kid, when Dad and I went to see a show.

I think he snuck us in, because we were in the back, me on his lap, and we only entered when the lights were down.

It was an otherworldly, magical experience.

Like this one.

Soon we’re past that part and drive into where tall buildings and multi-story dwellings with tiny gardens stand near a park that twinkles with lights. It’s still busy, but thebeautiful are better dressed, moving slower, like they’re where they need to be and pace won’t matter.

The car pulls up at a gate that leads into the park, it’s lit with fairy lights and the path, when we alight the vehicle, takes us down a glittery paved trail to a gorgeous restaurant.

I’m gaping. I know I am.

I turn to Knight. “I can’t go in there.”

“Sure you can.”

“I don’t belong.”

“You fucking do.”

I shake my head. “I’m a fraud.”

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