Page 232 of The Delta's Rogue
I remember my rules this time and nod my response.
“Such a good fucking girl.” He massage my thighs, then he cups my breasts from beneath and squeezes them tightly. “Go through the door on the left,” he orders me before I can get too lost in his praise and his touch.
His hands leave me, as does the warmth of his chest, and I pout at the loss.
He’s teasing me into a frenzy. I’ll be a raging storm of pent-up lust by the time he lets me come.
I take two seconds to calm myself. Two deep breaths. I don’t give myself longer because I know he’ll punish me if I don’t go into that room.
He holds the door open for me. I squeeze past him, and once again, I’m shocked to my core.
It’s a closet. A huge, walk-in closet with a gorgeous, three-paneled mirror, a black pedestal, and racks and shelves already filled with shoes and lingerie.
“Sebastián…” My teeth dig into my lower lip as I bite back my questions.
How? When?
“Four years ago, you came with me to meet with Forrest. I gave you ten minutes to get dressed and meet me in the club, and everything you tried on, touched, or even looked at, the employees boxed up and sent to me. I’ve had all of this just…waiting for you.” He answers my questions without me having to ask them, likely sensing my confusion through the mate bond.
I cover my mouth with both hands, in part due to my surprise and in part to keep myself from screaming out my thanks to him. Then I run into his arms and squeeze him. I don’t need words to show him what it means to me that he had all this tucked away for four years, as he waited for me to return to his side.
He hugs me back then spins me to face the racks once more. “Tonight, you’re going to pick one of these pretty little outfits for me to ruin.”
Another wave of heat pulses through me at that word—ruin.
He can ruin whatever he wants. My clothes, my pussy. Any of it. All of it.
I scan the options. So many of them. Some sweet, some sexy, some that are essentially nonexistent…
How am I supposed to decide?
Sebastian sweeps my hair off my back and kisses the top of my spine. “Pick something out,” he murmurs as he unzips my dress. “Get dressed. And meet me in the bedroom.”
He slides his fingers up the dangling choker chain, teasing my exposed back. When he reaches my neck, he tugs the choker slightly, and then he leaves the closet.
I dart forward and grab the first piece I see. Part of me wants to take my time and find something perfect, something to keep the tone of this special night. I chose this gorgeous gown for that exact reason, even though I knew I wouldn’t wear it for long. But a larger part of me is done with the waiting—with the teasing, the buildup, and the anticipation. I want the rest. The grand finale.
I change as quickly as I can, ensuring the bows tied between my breasts and above my ass are perfect before I meet him back in the bedroom. My black stiletto heels click on the marble floors, drawing Sebastian’s attention.
The smug smirk of appreciation on his lips as he takes me in does illegal things to my insides. It sends a zap of lust to my clit.
He circles me, examining the bow tying the fabric that covers my breasts, and the open back of the panties that shows off every inch of my ass except where the ends of the bow dangle. He yanks on the bow in the front when he’s finished his circle, untying it and letting the two pieces of silk fall to the sides. My exposed nipples pebble at the change in temperature, and he grips my waist.
“So fucking pretty.” He groans, lowering his mouth to my chest and blowing on each of my nipples.
My chin tilts to the ceiling, and my knees almost buckle, but his hands on my waist keep me steady. I wait for him to cover a nipple with his mouth, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leaves me breathless and needy.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks.
“Yes, sir.”
He re-ties the bow, covering my breasts again—for now. Then he takes out the special transport stone Rune made for us, one that travels between a stone in Sebastian’s office at The Black Door and one here, and he tosses it in the air to take us to his club.
“Before we head downstairs,I have one last requirement for you tonight,” Sebastian says once the world stops swirling around us and we stand in his office. “You owe me four orgasms tonight to earn my cock in your pretty little pussy. One orgasm for every year I couldn’t find you.”
My body becomes more pliant with each syllable he utters, betraying me completely. I’m a goner.
I’m terrified of the overwhelming pleasure I’ll receive at his hands tonight, and yet I can’t wait for it. I want the overstimulation, and I want the entire club to watch me squirm and beg him for more.
