Page 110 of Bite

“Is it that obvious?” I tease, glancing up at him.

He chuckles softly. “You’ve come a long way.”

“Thank you for noticing,” I purr, arching my spine against him.

There’s a lull in the music below, a shudder of anticipation rolling through the crowd as the next song builds. I glance down, surprised at how many faces are turned upward; how many eyes are seeking us up here in the dark.

James leans in even closer, the weight of him settling against me. “You know,” he drawls, “Every person in this room wants you. Your body…” he trails off, tracing the curve of my breast with his fingertips. “Your blood…” he leans in, lips grazing my throat.

A shock of want ripples through me, so intense my knees nearly buckle. He steadies me with a hand at my waist, my hands gripping the ledge, the diamond on my ring finger glittering even in the dark.

“Are you going to bite me right here?” I whisper.

He laughs, the sound curling around my nerves like a velvet rope. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

I consider it for a moment, but there’s something else I want even more.

“Touch me,” I breathe.

He shifts behind me, hands sliding up my sides. They ghost over my ribs, curve around my breasts, then trail down to grip my hips. I can feel the weight of stares on us from below, anticipation building as he slips a hand inside the slit in my skirt.

Tugging the back panel up, he exposes the backs of my thighs to the air, inch by inch. I suck in a gasp, eyes darting downto the crowd below, but James holds me in place with a firm, commanding grip.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, breathless.

He leans down and presses his cheek to mine, our faces side by side, gazing out over the ballroom. “Giving you what you want, darling.”

Panic rises up in me, followed by the instinct to protest, but I immediately shove it down. I’m not ashamed. Iwantto be seen.

I grip the ledge, knuckles whitening, as his fingers trace the seam of my panties. Black lace– his favorite. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband and slides them down to mid-thigh, leaving me bare beneath my dress.

The exposure is electric. I can feel eyes on me, real or imagined, and my heart hammers so loud I’m sure everyone below can hear it. James’ hand finds the small of my back and presses me gently forward to lean over the stone, ass perched just so.

He unzips his slacks with a sound so soft I’d miss it if I wasn’t newly gifted with enhanced hearing. I crane my neck, glancing over my shoulder to catch the flash of his grin in the darkness.

“Bend a little more for me,” he commands, tipping his head.

I obey, breath coming in short, sharp bursts as I brace myself against the railing. My skin is on fire, every nerve ending dialed up to eleven.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, sliding a hand between my thighs and teasing along the slickness already gathering there.

I bite my lip to stifle a moan as he replaces his fingers with the velvety head of his cock, nudging at my entrance before slowly pushing inside.

It’s different like this– public, forbidden, the risk of exposure thrumming in my veins alongside the pleasure. He fucks me slow at first, each stroke measured and deep, designed to tease rather than satisfy. I try to keep quiet, but it’s hopeless– thewhimpers and gasps escape me, lost somewhere amongst the music as they float over the crowd below.

I glance down, and in that instant, I catch someone looking up.Francesca Fox.Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles, sharp and knowing.

Instead of shame, I feel a burst of power.

Let them all watch. Let them know who I belong to, and that James Devereaux belongs tome.

He grips my hips harder, his own restraint starting to fray. I can sense it in the way his breath grows ragged, the way he pulls me back against him with every thrust.

In the privacy of my mind, I hear his voice break through.

Mine.

You’re mine, Taylor.