Page 24 of Betrayed

Her head snapped around to find a waitress at her side, shouting in order to be heard over the band. Instantly, her eyes shifted to the long bar that encompassed nearly all the back wall and half that again, around the far corner.

“All the way to the left near the dungeon,” the server added helpfully. “And might I say, you are one lucky girl. Master Arturo is in demand and to snatch him up twice is unprecedented. I won’t wish you a wonderful evening. I’ll just dream about it and live vicariously through you.”

With her message, and then some, delivered, she sauntered away, Mari noticing that she wore a corset and a skimpy thong, her generous buttocks jiggling as she wound through the club members crowding around the dance floor. It was nice to see there were real women with real women’s bodies here. Another thing she found welcoming about Club Decadence, the crowd wasn’t college age like many of the clubs in the city. They were older, more sophisticated, and they came in all shapes and sizes. Even plus sizes, which made Mari more comfortable about baring her curves and her approaching-forty, mother-of-two body.

Taking a deep breath, she began making her way through the crowd. Her eyes were unavoidably drawn to the medieval-looking dungeon doors. By choosing a table near the entrance, he didn’t want to waste any time, apparently, which suited her just fine.

As she came to the end of the bar, she frowned, not seeing him anywhere. Fingers gliding down her spine had her turning and meeting Arturo’s intense green-eyed gaze.

He didn’t say a word, flattening his warm hand between her shoulder blades as he pulled her against him. The same hand slid slowly down her bare back, made possible by the deep plunging V of her dress. Although not fetwear, it was bolder and far more revealing than anything she’d worn to the club to date. She was right about the drape. If she sat, she’d show ass cleavage. Something she’d never had to worry about before.

As his hand continued its slow descent, goose bumps popped up and spread across the path he followed to the inward curve of her lower back.

“You’re very late.”

His voice alone had the power to make her wet, and she immediately reacted.

“Didn’t you get my messages?”

“I did, and it’s why you aren’t already over my knee.” He dipped his face into the side of her neck, bared by her updo, and added, “Since you followed my other orders to the letter and look exquisite, I might forgo a punishment if you greet me with a kiss.”

“You’d actually spank me for car trouble and traffic?” she protested; her outrage diminished by the slow drag of his lips across his skin.

“No, I’d punish you because it pleases me to do so.”

Having dreamed about this night since their last meeting, Mari didn’t think. She reacted, tipping her head to the side for the hot lick of his tongue. His head came up, and he gazed down at her, his eyes homing in on her parted lips.

“Must I ask twice for my kiss,ma soumise?”

“I usually don’t—”

“Right or wrong, I obliterated that limit last time. There is no going back.”

And she didn’t want to. His last kiss had been thorough and demanding, sending shivers of desire clear down to her toes. It had shattered her resolve and carefully constructed shields, and she wanted to experience more of it. At this rate, he’d soon have her tied to his whipping post and flying, all of her rules and restrictions shredded beyond recognition. Despite how vulnerable she was around him, she still tipped her head back, lifting her mouth to meet his.

The initial soft brush of their lips prompted an immediate response. With a growl of approval, he speared the fingers of one hand through the carefully pinned curls high on her crown and positioned her head to his liking, taking full advantage of her eager offering. Open-mouthed, their lips and tongues melded hungrily right there amid the crowd.

Despite the rapidly mounting fog of desire that encompassed her, she didn’t fail to notice his other arm encircling her waist or that it bent up along her spine, his hand flattening along her back, the heat of his palm searing into her skin. With her body plastered against him from breasts to thighs, he didn’t refrain from dipping a hand into the back of her dress and palming a cheek. As he deepened the kiss, he squeezed heartily, and she suspected if his hand hadn’t been constrained by the costly Dior poly blend, he would have given her a lusty smack. Instead, his fingers molded her flesh, the tips dipping into the cleft between the rounded halves, making her gasp for air against his rapacious mouth.

All too soon, he eased off, dialing the intensity back several notches. For Mari, going from hard and demanding to leisurely but excruciatingly thorough left her mind and body in a needy spiral.

“You make me forget my plans for the evening.” His lips brushed hers as he murmured softly, “I thought to dance, have a drink, and chat a bit before I do wickedly imaginative things to your body.”

She stiffened. “I don’t dance.”

“You don’t dance?” he echoed, shock and mild reproach in his tone at her denial.

“I don’t mean I was refusing to dance, sir,” she hurried to explain, “it’s that I don’t know how. I never learned.”

“With this body? It is a crime! But it will be my pleasure to teach you.”

Releasing his grip on both her bottom and her hair, he turned, and with his hand in a more circumspect, but still quite possessive, position low on her back, he guided her onto the dance floor. His right arm encircled her waist as he pulled her snugly against him.

“Your left hand goes on my right shoulder,” he instructed, waiting for her to comply. When it curved over the taut, black silky material, her fingers taking in the bunching, rippling, defined muscles underneath, he brought her in closer, until not a glimmer of light could be seen between them. His free hand clasped hers and held at his side. Effortlessly, he moved slowly, seductively to the sounds of John Legend’s “All of Me.”

“Relax and follow my lead. Dancing is sensual, like making love. Pressed together intimately and moving in a seductive rhythm, our heartbeats and breathing will increase. As we get more daring”—with a subtle touch, he spun her out and reeled her back in as if they’d done it hundreds of times before—“our bodies will heat and become fluid.”

Plastered against him once more, she blinked up into his handsome, smiling face. As if they weren’t close enough, one large hand moved lower, gliding along the upper curves of her ass, pulling her hips tighter, molding them together as they swayed from side to side.

---