Page 86 of Deadly Rival

An idea hits me, and it’s so perfect I can’t hold back from sharing it with her. “Every month, I run a poker night for serious players.” Her eyes flutter open, confused, at the change of topic but quickly close again when I pinch her clit. “None of my friends attend—they can’t play for shit. It’s a small group of acquaintances.”

She’s working with me now, shifting herself against my fingers. The champagne really helped chase away what remained of her inhibitions. “If you stay, you’ll waitress for me at one. Topless, of course. All night long. When you’re not servingdrinks, you’ll kneel beside my chair like a good little pet waiting for your master’s instruction.”

Fuck. Fuck, I can picture it, and it’s perfect. I want it—I want her—so badly. I want her to choose this. Me. She opens her glassy eyes, staring at me as I work her clit. Her hands open and close. She’s close. “How does that sound, Ophelia? If you like the idea, come for me.”

Unfair, but I don’t give a shit. I push her straight over the edge, watching the flush stain her chest as she bites her lip and whimpers. Moisture coats my fingers. I ram them deep into her pussy, and she clamps around me like she’s desperate for it to be my cock. Fear not, darling, your wish shall soon be granted.

I swallow her moan with a kiss. Her lips part, and I taste champagne as her tongue meets mine. I kiss her until the orgasm fades and her greedy pussy stops trying to crush my fingers. When I pull back, she blinks, then her gaze flicks around the room, panicked, before she presses her head into my chest.

We put on quite a show.

My cock is a rigid, aching bar, and I can’t stand it any longer. I study Ophelia, then do up one single button beneath her breasts. I shift the fabric so it just skims her nipples. “We’re going home. That’s all the coverage you’re getting. Say ‘Thank you, sir.’”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ophelia

“Thank you, sir.” Thewords fall out before I consider them. I’m in a daze, and nothing matters. Nothing besides Sebastian, his fingers, and his filthy, filthy words. He put me on show, and I let him. I ground myself against his fingers without caring who might have been watching.

No. I’m kidding myself. I wanted them to look.

If tomorrow—

Stop it. I’m not thinking about it. I’m going to enjoy tonight and not let tomorrow’s decision drag me down.

Sebastian stands and gives my leash a tug. My thoughts melt away, swirling back into mush at the indignity of it. I look down, and my face heats. The single button he’s allowed me barely covers me at all. And he wants me to walk all the way home like this?

Home.

What does that word mean now? No. Don’t think. I shuffle out of the booth, tug the skirt down, and let Sebastian lead me out of the bar.

It shouldn’t surprise me that the street is busy, but as always, it does. Sebastian gets a few friendly nods but more cold glances as we make our way back to the apartment. It’s a relief to reach his building.

Sebastian hasn’t spoken on the journey back, and it’s starting to feel weird. Usually, he fills every silence. As he presses the call button for the elevator, I shoot a look up at him, taking in the tense line of his jaw. “What is it?”

His eyes are midnight pools, and he takes a tight breath. I yelp as he grips my ass and presses me tight to his body. His strained voice sends little shudders down my spine. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed that, pet. It’s taking all my self-control to get you home before fucking you.”

The solid length of his cock lodged against my stomach gives me a pretty good clue exactly how much he enjoyed it.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and he pushes me inside, caging me against the wall with his body as he hits the button for our floor. My stomach swoops as the elevator shoots upward. “You enjoyed it too. Didn’t you.”

A statement, not a question, but I squirm under it anyway. He’s right, but admitting it to myself is very, very different than admitting it to him. “Maybe. A bit.”

I mutter it, and he laughs as the elevator stops. “Oh. Well, in that case, I’ll have to try harder, won’t I? I’ll strip you in the refectory, tie you to a table, and let everyone watch as I eat my dinner off your body. Imagine that. Legs tied apart, everything on display, and nothing you can do about all the pairs of eyes watching you.”

He’s sick. Perverted. That doesn’t sound good at all. So why the hell is my pussy throbbing with every beat of my heart? Seconds later, the door shuts behind us.

We’re home.

He hammers out quick, staccato instructions. “Bedroom. Clothes off. Into your bed.”

My bed? Why? But his tone means business, and I can’t pretend I want to fight him. I’m lost to the madness of the evening, swept along on a tide of heat and humiliation that makes me want to obey. I shed my clothes and sit in my little bed.

Sebastian locks the shackle around my ankle and stares down with a look of purest satisfaction. “My God. I’ve waited far too long to fuck you here. I’ve imagined it ever since the first time I saw you in this bed.”

He strips as he talks, throwing off the suit jacket and racing through the buttons. His body is sharp and lean, splashed with the varied colors of his healing bruises. The dark shades hint at the darkness in his soul. The shadow that has my nipples rock hard again as he looms over me.

“Just look at you. Shackled and waiting for your master. Perfect. Spread your legs like a good little pet.”

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