Page 100 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
Shit.I hissed silently.
“Gods, baby, you taste better than I fucking hoped.”
I moaned.
“Shhh, if you make another sound, I’ll stop.”
The world beyond the curtain faded. There was only Zayn. Only the pressure building in my core. Only the reverence of his touch and the way he made me feel like I was made of stars and wildfire and sin.
“This pussy belongs to me.”He sank his two fingers in as his tongue kept lapping at my clit. My hand smacked the table, causing our glasses to clink.
I could feel him smile against my lips.
“Focus on me, Peach.”
“Oh, trust me, I am.”
His tongue circled my clit faster as he moved his fingers in and out of me. I had to bite down on my palm, to keep me from screaming out. “Fuck, I want you so bad, Zayn.”
“I know you do, baby. Trust me, it’s nowhere near the want I have for you.”He thrusted faster, hooking his finger towards the spot that makes me come undone. He worked me with expertise, like he knew my body so well.
“You like that I’m doing this to you in public, don’t you?”His tongue flattened.
“Shit!”
“Answer me.”
“Yes! Yes, I do.”
“You like the thrill of being caught. My innocent Peach, not so innocent after all.”He laughed in the back of my mind.
I could feel my juices start to flow down my thighs.
“Gods, you are perfect. Let go for me, baby.”
And I did. All over his face.
I clutched the table so tight, I thought I might pull the cloth right off. I could feel the magnetic pull to Zayn as I found my release. My orgasm was earth-shattering, and I wanted to straddle him and come again. And again. And again.
Just as I shattered in silence, Zayn reappeared, sliding back into his seat like nothing had happened, a smug smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes that made my entire body hum. He licked his lips slowly, then licked both of his fingers clean. He leaned in. “You are delectable.”
I could barely speak. I was flushed, breathless, feral for him. But then the curtain fluttered. “There you are,” a voice cut through the haze.
Fintan.
He stood just outside the curtain, offering a stiff smile. “You promised me a dance.”
I swallowed hard, heat still curling in my belly, heart still racing. Zayn’s hand brushed mine under the table. And then he gripped my thigh tightly and whispered, “Mine.”
“Yes.”
I rose slowly, not wanting to dance with the prince, and smoothed down my dress. I forced a calm smile. “Of course.” Before I took his hand, I grabbed my glass and downed my whisky.
“Oh come on,” Fintan said, holding out his hand, “I promise I won’t step on your little feet.” Fintan’s hand gripped mine as the music shifted into a slower melody, and before I could refuse, I found myself drawn into a dance with him. His gloved palm pressed lightly at my waist, but I could feel the tension in his body even through the fabric.
“Getting cozy with my guard, huh?” he said, his voice sharp and forced into a smile.
I stiffened. “He’s my friend. You and I aren’t together anymore, Golden Boy,” I snapped, my tone cool, but my heart thudding.
