Page 184 of Entangled

My mouth goes dry, and my clammy hand finds Jasper’s silk sleeve. Lucky’s abs glisten under the firelight, like he’s oiled himself to show every muscle, every tattoo, every inch of himself in carnal perfection.

Jasper breathes in an unsteady breath beside me.

At the surge of a wild guitar, Lucky punches up with a laugh, then moves into a series of fast, tight backflips the length of the crowd, his staff turning with him. He flirts with the women as he dances and slices through the air, throwing dimples and flames like kisses into the crowd.

And they’re losing it. Whistles and screams tear through the night.

I can’t even blame them.

Lucky moves like his body is made for sex.

Sliding back into the middle of the circle, Lucky cracks the staff against his hand over his head until everyone starts clapping. Then hemoves—it’s one part dance, one part war, and at least two parts pure temptation. Faster and faster, the fire arcs around his rippling body like a hellish halo. Strands of his hair are escaping his bun, clinging around his damp face in a teasing caress.

Then the music begins its final rise.

Lucky throws the staff, its end piercing the earth in a fierce gust.

The flames catch on the grass, ripping over the earth in a perfect heart around him. The crowdoohs.

Lucky launches forward, grasping the still-vibrating staff under the flaming tip, swinging himself around it, his body twisting in perfect control. Every muscle in his biceps, his forearms, is tensed and glimmering with sweat.

Every turn proudly showcases his body. His strength. His passion.

His... untamed masculine energy.

When he finally turns to a halt on the grass, it’s on his knees, in the middle of the flaming heart, looking at me and Jasper. The music ends and the women are laughing, screaming, but I can only stare at him.

I’m wet, slippery, my body thrumming and tense and pressing into the plug in my ass. Jasper’s breaths are short and hard beside me.

“Fucking mating dance,” Dom mutters. “I’m going to put the fire out. Make sure nobody molests Lucky.”

Jasper hisses, and I glare at the women who are creeping in toward him.

Without a word, both Jasper and I lurch forward, making our way to Lucky before any of the scavengers get too bold. The plug is an insistent thrust inside me, playing havoc with my already overstimulated body. It makes walking an awkward, thrilling experience, and it’s an effort to maintain the semblance of composure.

I’m not sure I quite manage it.

Lucky is sitting back on his heels when we stop in front of him. His hair is damp around the edges, and heisoiled up, his chest and arms slick and shiny. The tips of my fingers prickle with the urge to touch him—to smear that oil all over his skin.

It’s odd seeing him kneeling, but a quick look at the color high on Jasper’s cheekbones tells me it’s not for my benefit.

I pause again, glancing between them. I’m not sure how this etiquette works. I need to talk to Lucky, but he’s already with Jasper... Does he get priority? Is there a ticket system for this?

Lucky grins lazily. “Have fun?”

“Watching you put on a strip show for almost a hundred women?” I can feel Jasper’s barely contained tension.

The crowd of women press closer, their eyes on Lucky’s tattoos, on his arms and chest and gorgeous face. I wish I had a spray bottle. I’d squirt them like overzealous puppies.

Lucky shakes his head slowly. “The show wasn’t for them.” His dimple kisses his cheek. “It was for the two of you.”

Jasperandme.

Relief relaxes my shoulders, and I let my smile slip free.

“You were incredible,” I tell him huskily, and his eyes brighten.

“Yeah? Even though master and commander over here ruined my intro?”

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