Page 30 of The SnowFang Storm

“Let me enjoy myself.” I enjoyed touching him, the sensation of the only soft skin on his body against my palm. I thrilled at the way his body clenched and shifted, and the way his scent changed, and how he became some docile wild creature.

He was mine.

I pushed my hand down into his pants until my fingers grazed his balls, and I pulled gently with my fingertips on the skin and my palm pressed into mid-shaft. He growled, fingers clenching my hips. There wasn’t much he could do except endure me stroking him.

“Mine,” I told him, licking his lips but avoiding his kiss, as I pulled gently on the skin of his balls, shifting them in his pants and using my palm to trap his cock against his abdomen. “Mine.”

He grinned, his teeth bright in the strange, shifting lights. He snaked one wrist off my hips and captured my wrist. “I know what you’ll enjoy more.”

I mock-pouted at him. “Who said you get to make the rules? Maybe I want to make you finish like this. You’ve never let me before.”

He cupped my rump in his other hand and pulled me higher. I released his hand to brace myself on his shoulders, and bent down to kiss him. This time his tongue met mine, and his other hand guided his cock against me. I shivered and suppressed a plea. He said, “If we get thrown out, it should be for more than a handjob.”

I laughed as he lowered me down onto him and filled me to the core. He captured my lips with his, his hands gripping my flesh and guiding my motion on him, raking at me, and I trembled, the pleasure building faster than ever before.

We were going to get caught, the whole damn club was probably watching us.

He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me down to him. “Someone likes risks.”

“I think you like the audience,” I growled back.

“I’d watch us.” He pushed me down on him so I took all of him. I gasped and arched and the sudden rush crashed down and through both of us.

I collapsed against him, panting. Holy shit. That had been…

“Someone does like risks,” he whispered, panting hard.

“You are too big to do that,” I whispered, floppy and sweaty and wet.

He chuckled, pulling at my lower lip with his thumb. His other hand guided my ass as he milked the last of it from both of us, and I whimpered. He said, hoarsely, “I could be gentle with you.”

I keened as his cock found some too-sensitive part of me and tapped it for a brain-sparking instant.

“Is that what you want?” he whispered. “Gentleness? Tenderness? I’m fairly practiced in faking those things for my partners.”

I bit his neck in response since I couldn’t form a coherent human word.

He snatched one of my earrings in his teeth and tugged hard enough the wire bit into my skin. “I didn’t think so.”

The haze cleared out of my head, and I laughed at him, drunk and flushed. “And what would you do if I said yes, you’re just too much of a beast?”

“I’d ask where my mate was and who the fuck were you.” Sterling grinned wolfishly.

“I’ll get cleaned up. Then we can leave.”

“Good idea.” He moved closer and kissed my neck, cradling one of my breasts in his palm. His other hand cupped my ass, and his index finger pressed around the curve.

“Naughty,” I rasped at him.

“And unrepentant. Did I just find your limit?” His eyes were wicked hazel and silver. “I’m not allowed to touch you there? Perhaps you should let me before you refuse.”

I slid off his lap and headed for the lady’s room, my thighs slick and wet.

A month ago, if you had asked me if I would have seen myself having sex with my husband at a swanky club, I would have said no.

I also would not have thought I’d be disowned—

Depressing thought. I pushed it and its friends away, and let the pulsing crush of music and human bodies lean on the door.