Page 11 of The Delta's Rogue
I grit my teeth as understanding flashes across her face.
“You’re a member.”
I don’t confirm or deny it, but my silence is enough of an answer for her.
“Mr. Waiting For His Mate is secretly a member of a sex club.” Sarina steps towards me, standing as close as we were on the dance floor. “Do you like to watch?” She licks her lips.
“Sarina…” I growl. My eyes involuntarily track the path of her tongue across the seam of her mouth.
“Is that one of your needs, your desires? To dominate your partner? To watch and be watched?” Her fingers walk up my chest.
I grab her hand, stopping her movements, as my eyes narrow. “Would that bother you?” I straighten myself to my full height, towering over her and cornering her.
Her breath catches as her back hits the wall, but she lifts her chin to hold eye contact with me. “No.”
I wait for the hesitation, for the flutter of her heart or the break in eye contact that shows she’s lying, but there is none.
“I’m a member”—I squeeze her hand tighter and brace myself on the wall near her head to resist the urge to wrap my other hand around her neck—“so I can learn the proper, safe way to play with and take care of my partner, whoever she may be.”
“Lucky girl,” she mutters, neck arching and chest heaving. “Take me with you.”
“No.” My aura pulses from me.
Her eyelids shut for a second, but she doesn’t back down or submit. “Sebastian—”
“It’s not like a regular club, Little Rogue. I don’t own that club like I do this one. They don’t let just anyone in. There are rules and protocols.”
“Then teach me.”
Teach me.Fuck if that isn’t a tempting offer.
Once again, that explicit slideshow flashes in my mind, taunting me with its forbidden eroticism. The things I could teach her…
I shake my head. “There’s no time for that. The trail is already an hour old, and the clock is ticking.”
“Which is why I should just go with you,” she says. “You can teach me the protocols or whatever on our way there. I’m a fast learner.”
That, I know already. I saw and felt how she responded to my guidance on the dance floor. She’s fiery, but her instincts—at least with me—are to give in to my demands so we can both find pleasure. She may not realize it yet, but her body recognizes my dominance and submits to my power over her.
“Are you afraid of others wanting me? Will you be jealous? Overprotective? Possessive?”she asks.
The air presses in on me with each question from her.
Yes. I most definitely will be all those things if someone touches her.
My grip on her hand tightens. “No.”
Her eyes narrow, and she smirks. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You are.” Her smirk turns into a smile.
“I’m not!” I insist, a growl rippling through me.
“Sebastian.” She wipes the amusement off her face and sets her jaw. “Take me with you. You need a partner, and we are a good team. We work well together.” She slides her free hand—the one I’m not clenching in my fist—up my chest to my neck and bats her lashes at me. “Please, Sebby?”
I drop my forehead to hers and groan.
