Page 74 of Dance of Deception

Her head snaps toward me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed pink.

She goes to move again, but my arm snakes around her, my hand gripping her hip firmly as my fingers splay across her stomach—pressing through the material of her dress into her skin, keeping her exactly where I want her.

“Can…” She swallows heavily. “Can you please let me go?”

“No.”

I casually reach over and pour us glasses of champagne from one of the bottles, passing her one before I take a sip from mine.

Studying her.Analyzingher.

She’s tense in my lap, her body rigid like she’s fighting herself more than she’s fighting me. I watch as she drags her eyes around the club, looking at the dancers down below, then pulling her attention to the VIP level. I hear her breath catch sharply, and I turn to follow her gaze.

Doomsday has a…laxapproach to public displays of affection. It all part of the hedonistic vibe, and frankly it’s why people come here. So I’m not surprised when I spot the couple in the corner of another darkened booth not far away.

She’s in his lap, her back to his chest, eyes closed in ecstasy as she grinds on him. The man has his arms wrapped around her, one hand casually cupping her breast through her dress, his fingers rolling and pinching one of her nipples. His other hand is under her short skirt, moving in slow circles as she rolls her hips.

It’s obvious from the looks on both of their faces that his dick is inside her.

Lyra goes still when she realizes what she’s looking at. Her breath hitches violently, and she whips her gaze away, her face stricken, looking a little green around the gills.

Curious.

Her hands drop to my arm, feebly trying to push it off her as she tries to get up. Obviously, I don’t move it in the slightest, letting my fingers dig into her a little bit tighter—my way of saying “don’t bother”.

She tries to shift again. I tighten my hold a little more.

A warning. A claim.

She exhales sharply through her nose, but doesn’t move again.

Smart girl.

The rest of the booth is a blur of conversation and laughter—Milena and Brooklyn already knocking back drinks, Evelina rolling her eyes as Roman teases her, Naomi watching the whole scene with bright, eager eyes.

No one is looking at us.

“Does that shock you?”

I nod my chin at the couple still fucking in the corner.

Lyra’s face burns, but she doesn’t look at where I’ve just gestured.

“No,” she says quickly. Too quickly.

“Are you embarrassed by it?”

She squirms in my lap, her brow furrowing. “No, I just don’t…” She shrugs. “I don’t need to spy on them.”

“Oh, but you’re so good at that.”

She stiffens, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

“That…” Her throat works again, bobbing deliciously. “That wasn’t on purpose,” she murmurs. “I told you that already.”

“Are you bothered by what you sawthatnight?”

I watch her face pale a little, feel the way her body tightens under my grip. She shakes her head side to side a little too vigorously.

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