Page 52 of The Devil's Daughter

“No. Drake should’ve called him on day one. It shouldn’t have fallen to you. And when he didn’t, Ben or I should’ve. We both knew better. But we thought we could handle it.”

“Well, for the record, I think wewerehandling it. We just ran out of time. If we could skip the gala, we’d be fine.”

“Temporarily, sure. Whoever this is has a serious beef with Drake, and they aren’t going away, and if he’s in danger, so are you. So… it’s good that you called. I’m just not looking forward to the dressing down Papá’s going to give Ben and me when he gets here.”

I close in again, wearing only panties and driven by a deeper need. “Well, I am more than happy to kiss it better after he leaves.”

Baz’s eyes go heavy-lidded and his gaze drifts down to my bare breasts. He slides his arms around me and accepts my kiss, and I can feel his tension shift and ease as our tongues tangle. After a few seconds, he groans, then pushes me away, shaking his head to clear it.

“Enough. Goddamn, you’re like a fucking drug, Elle. We’ve gotta keep clear heads for the next couple days, so maybe stay dressed as much as possible until we figure this out, okay?”

“Baz…” His name comes out as a plea as I clench my thighs together, my engorged pussy so wet and throbbing I can’t think straight.

“Elle, are you all right? What’s wrong?” he says, closing in again with concern. He lifts a hand to my cheek and I turn into it, kissing the center of his palm, then biting.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, a deeper hint of interest in his tone now.

I lean closer and kiss him again, this time with every ounce of need that’s built up in me since I inserted the plug this morning. “It’s Drake’s fault,” I say when we part, and I cling to his shirt. “He gave me something.”

Baz frowns. “What did he give you? A drug?”

I shake my head. “No… a…plug.”

He stares at me unblinking for a second, then clears his throat and glances down. “A… plug. As in… it’s in you right now?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod. “Since this morning.”

“Fuck me,” he mutters. “And you like it. Obviously you like it.” He idly drifts his knuckles over my nipples, and I shudder from the intensity of the pleasure that casual caress drives through me. “This issonot fair. I’m going to have to have a word with that asshole.”

“Please not now. I need you.”

“Elle,” he warns under his breath, “I can’t fuck you here, and it wouldn’t be right for us to run off to a bedroom at the moment.”

“Just touch me, please.”

“Christ,” he mutters. “Come here.”

He grabs the back of my neck and hauls me close again, shoving his tongue in my mouth like he wants to eat me alive. At the same time, he cups my crotch, rubbing at the wetness soaking through my panties. With a groan, he shoves them aside and plunges his fingers into me.

I gasp and bite my lip against the outburst as he begins to finger-fuck me, first with just two fingers, then three when I lean back against the table and spread my legs wider.

“Don’t make a fucking sound,” he warns, and I whimper out my assent, bucking my hips desperately against his thrusting fingers. He thumbs my clit then, and I emit a choked noise that he muffles with his mouth, capturing my groan as he rubs in tight, hard circles. He releases my lips, then presses them to my ear.

“You are so fucking wet. Tonight after Arturo leaves, I’m going to nail your ass to the fucking bed for what you did. But you’ll be ready for me, won’t you?”

I bite back a moan as my pleasure begins to crest. My ass is against the lip of the table, the pressure directly against the plug so it rocks inside me with every undulation of my hips. I wish he could fuck me, but the need to come is too urgent to wait.

When he impulsively drops his mouth to my breast and gives one nipple a hard suck, I lose my mind. An inhuman noise escapes my throat before I can hold it in, but I manage to quiet myself to nothing but panting gasps as he brings me over the edge.

I collapse against him, breathing heavily and clinging with both hands to his shirt. He chuckles against the top of my head.

“Feel better?”

“Yes and no,” I groan. I ease onto my feet, moving gingerly because the plug is still there, and I don’t dare take it out until I’m in a safe place where I can deal with it. My panties are soaked, but I obviously don’t have a spare pair up here either. I slip them off and use them to wipe myself up enough for comfort, then shove them into the pocket of my shorts, which are folded on one of the dining chairs.

Baz lets out a strangled sound when I turn and reach for the dress, and I realize he must be able to see the shining base of the plug protruding from my ass. “I’m going to fucking kill Drake,” he mutters.

“This is for you as much as him,” I say over my shoulder.

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