Page 48 of Wolf's Claimed Mate
“Dance with me,” Conall proposed. I giggled and finished my fruity cocktail before I let him pull me up and over to the staircase, after the men, as if we were merely a giddy couple on a date.
The shaved-headed man was there, but the other man was unrecognizable, his blonde hair slicked back, falling to his neck. He wasn’t part of the pack, but Conall stilled.
“That’s the son of the Head Councillor,” he said. “He’s working with the enemy’s pack?”
The two men had their heads bent together, lingering on the outskirts of the dancefloor, while Conall led me into the frayof dancers. The music boomed around every corner, bounced off the walls, enveloping everyone under its thrall. Lights flashed, people knocked into each other, drinks spilled, and dancers grinded on each other like they were two seconds from tearing each other’s clothes off. Conall spun me into place on the dancefloor, tugging me flush against his hips.
His chest pressed to my back, and I leaned against him in a way that let me keep an eye on the two men. I wondered why they didn’t just head to a booth but also seemed to be looking for someone down there.
“Graham, the Head Councillor, led the Mating Games,” Conall explained to me, even as he grasped my hips, his hands sliding down the sides of my thighs. I bit back a pleasured noise as I nodded, trying to stay focused on his words despite the pounding music and his touch that set my skin alight.
“He’s pretty tight with Fenrys’s mom. At one point, the pack thought they might date, after her husband passed. His son has always itched to take over Graham’s position on the council. It could be bad if they’ve gotten him involved with their plans.”
“Bad,” I echoed distantly, barely listening, as Conall nosed into my neck, his breath quiet in my ear.
“Sasha,” he whispered, kissing the side of my neck.
Just an act, I told myself.Just an act.
But it hadn’t been in the woods, nor my kitchen.
“Is that invitation still open?” he asked, his fingers trailing the hem of my dress purposefully. There was only so much we could do to blend in, but only so far we could go with our intimacy like this. I kept my eyes on our target, losing myself to the sway and energy of the dancers around us. I swayed my hips over Conall’s crotch, felt him harden against my ass.
“Yes,” I breathed.
His hands slid higher before moving to cup my ass, feeling over my dress. It fell to mid-thigh, long enough to just about cover the fact that I’d dressed provocatively under the outfit.
Conall’s breath halted when he found what he was looking for.
I wore underwear, but it was the barest thing.
I had on a diamond lattice thong, barely covering anything. It was purely a line of chain covering my heat, tucked between my ass cheeks, totally worn to tease Conall rather than serve proper coverage. A tiny triangle of lattice chainwork covered my mound of trimmed hair, but that was all. His fingers danced over the chain links, tugging on it through my dress.
He laughed lowly in my ear. “Sasha, Sasha, Sasha,” he repeated, a condescending mantra that made me whimper. “Face of an angel, the body of a whore.”
The word should have been derogatory, but instead, they sent a full-body shudder through me. Oh, if only he knew. I had the body of an angel, too. But I liked to tease, I liked to display myself, like tantalizing fruit hanging in the sight of any man who wanted to look.
I got off on it, the attention more than enough to make me heated.
But I’d let Conall close in a way nobody else had been allowed. I was slowly cracking off my hard, outer shell for him.
Despite us being in public, he groped over the front of my heat, dragging nails over the chain thong, just to elicit a shuddering exhale from me.
His cock was hard in his jeans, grinding against me. It was as if he hadn’t realized what he was doing and pulled away, but I gripped his hips, grinded back against him.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, giggling, as I let my arms raise and drape around his neck. “It’s all part of the act.”
Conall exhaled against my shoulder, kissing the freckles there. The back of his knuckles brushed down my arms, sliding down the side of my body as if he could never get enough of touching me.
We’d both lost track of our two men, and Conall swore under his breath. I felt the stutter of rejection for a second before he danced me across the room, gliding in and out of other groups and couples, until we came to the fire exit door that people slipped out of to smoke and talk. A ringing in my ears made me feel off-kilter as we left the club.
I watched the streets, looking for any racing cars speeding away or anything suspicious. Whether the two men were meeting another, or thathadbeen the meeting, between the two of them, I didn’t know. But before I could, Conall had me pushed aside, backing me up into an alleyway behind the club. My back scraped the brick walls of the club, and I moaned in surprise when his mouth slotted over mine, demanding and heavy.
He took my hand, placing it over his crotch, letting me feel exactly what I was doing to him.
“You think that’s part of my act?” he growled, pushing his erection further into my touch. He was right. It wasn’t, and I was dripping wet as well. The chain would do nothing to conceal that, and it was cold against my heated folds. The sensation was delicious.
“I want to take you home,” Conall said, his voice a low rasp in my ear. “And I want to rip that dress off of you and lookat these pretty panties of yours, and have you spread out before like a goddamn feast, Sasha.”
