Page 96 of Prince of Masks
Against my core, the pressure hardens, it… twitches.
I stifle the moan that dares brew in me.
The clash in me is violent. The heat aching in my core, the flush that spreads from my hot face to my chest…
But it’s makut that soothes me.
That lull niggles at me, trying to lure me back into its warmth.
I clear my throat. “We’re done. The deal is done.”
Dray loosens his in a breath, a rushed sound, then he rests his forehead on mine. “I’ll take you back to the party… in a moment.”
I shake my head. “No,now, let me go now—”
“I need a moment,” Dray grumbles and tugs back a step, “or a cold shower.”
The glare I aim at him is intensified by the ugly burn heating my face.
He takes another step back, and the moment he’s passed my knees, my thighs slam shut.
Dray doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge it.
He just runs his hands down his face, his neck arched back, somewhere between praying for patience and summoning scraps of control.
I cut a glance down at his crotch.
I don’t recall if he was wearing a cup.
If he wasn’t, it sure looks like he is now.
I lift my wide stare to the ceiling and, slowly, slip off the edge of the desk. I start side-stepping around the furniture, closer to the doors—to the exit.
And I’m too flushed, too stunned, too ashamed to speak a damn word.
“Olivia,” Dray huffs my name, impatient.
I startle and, slowly, turn a look over at him.
The stare he has aimed at me is dull. “They won’t be on the terrace anymore. You will need me to escort you back.”
“I’ll find them.”
His grin is small, too relaxed, and he drags his thumb over his bottom lip, wiping away the residue of our kiss.
“Then when they ask where you have been,” he starts towards me, “what will you say?”
My mouth parts—then shuts.
“You need me,” he says, then gestures to my backside. “Make sure that book is secure.”
I do.
Cheeks burning, eyes wide and glued to his advance, I fumble with the pocketbook in the waistband and stuff it down further. It came a bit loose after Dray’s handling of me.
Shoving a hand into his pocket, he starts for the door, his other hand running down his face.
I shadow him, but keep a safe distance, more than an arm’s reach, and my focus is solely on his back as he reaches for the doorknob…
