Page 33 of Grotesque

I wondered if Corban had slipped something into my drink.

Or if perhaps he had glamoured it and the liquid had been replaced with faerie wine.

Because the moment I finished the glass, giddy warmth filled my body, overflowing until I was a bubbling laughing mess.

I twirled in front of him, showing off the dress he’d tailored.

The grin plastered on Corban’s face made me even giddier. I hadn’t seen him smile like that yet, with no inhibitions, or trace of malice.

“Aren’t you a pretty thing.” He looked up at me from the red leather booth he sat in. He grasped my hips and pulled me between his legs. “I agreed to leave your friend alone but what am I to do with everyone else staring at you?”

I looked over my shoulder. Men and women were throwing glances our way. Others were outright staring.

“They’re staring at you!” I gazed down at him. “Look at you!” I motioned up and down his body with my glass, which was magically full again.

“Look at you ,” he said. “Look at them watching you.”

A dim lamp hung over our table, framing half of his face in orange and the other in gray.

Shadows of nearby patrons cut through the green glow of his eyes periodically as they passed across the bar.

I leaned forward the moment he tipped his face up, my forehead knocking against his before my lips found his mouth.

It wasn’t my best kiss, sloppy and clumsy.

Corban grinned, opening his mouth when my tongue snaked through his lips.

I swayed my hips to the music as I pulled away.

I turned to face the crowd, lifting my arms high above my head and moving in time with the beat.

I tipped my head back so that my hair spilled into Corban’s lap.

Felt him tug at the end of the strands, pulling my head back farther, exposing my throat and chest to anyone brave enough to look.

I shouldn’t have let Corban tempt anyone that way knowing it would move them up on his shit list, but I couldn’t help it. He made me feel alive. I wanted them to see how powerful he made me feel.

Through heavy lids I scanned across the room until I found Quint. He was standing amongst a group of men and two women. His brother-in-law was yelling something in his ear that had Quint shoving him backward. He snapped something back and then turned a cold-hard stare my way.

Something should worry me about the way Quint was looking at me. About the way his friends hissed in his ear. Whatever thought was trying to form in my head disappeared when Corban’s hand palmed my ass.

I whirled to face him. “Be careful where you put your hands.”

A perfect brow arched. In response his hand slid to my front, to the hem of my dress, and he tugged me forward. My legs buckled and I slid a knee between his thighs as I all but fell into the booth with him.

“Corban!”

“Mmm, yes love?”

That was the second time he had called me that tonight. It gave me a warm rush and sent a pleasant tingling sensation zinging across my skin.

I held his glimmering stare over the rim of my glass as I took a sip. “We’re in public.” I placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned back, placing my foot back on the ground with the other.

His fingers remained pinned to the hem of my dress. “We are. Stay facing me, but keep dancing,” he said, petting my thigh with his fingers. “No one can see you from this angle.”

“What are you– Corban!” The slide of his hand moving under the front of my dress sobered me up in moments.

“No one will be any the wiser.” Wicked delight blazed in his eyes as he moved his sinful touch to the heat between my legs.

One finger, then another stroked the length of my slit.

I could feel my wetness slick between us, already soaking the thin fabric of my underwear.

I don’t know how my body was able to keep up with him as sore and torn as it was.

I swayed my hips after a moment’s pause when I realized I was being too still.

Corban pressed his thumb against my clit as I moved, his other two fingers still stroking me, drawing more heat and wetness from my aching body.

“You are glorious, little dove. How I love watching you sin.” With the turn of his hand he slid his fingers inside my panties. I lurched against him, my hips rolling forward to meet him and far too suddenly to be in sync with the music.

I flicked my gaze to the right to see if it was true that no one could see anything.

“Eyes on me,” Corban growled.

I met Quint’s gaze and then Corban pushed his fingers inside of me.

Shame hit me like a tidal wave but was forced down at the curl of his wicked fingers. I looked down on Corban, at his beautiful, upturned face, laced with rapture.

This was wrong on so many levels and yet I didn’t try to stop him as he pushed farther inside, pressed harder on that little bundle of nerves. If anyone caught us we would be tossed out, or worse, arrested. I’d never be able to show my face in town again.

His throat bobbed. “Would you ride me here?”

Oh fuck me. “Absolutely not,” I breathed.

Corban leaned forward, his free hand sliding up the back side of my thigh. “What if it pleased me?” He worked his fingers in and out of me, slowly gaining speed with each stroke.

I knew Corban liked to move quickly, but this was lightspeed. I could brave him in private but there was no way in Hell I was going to let him take advantage of me in front of a crowd. “I’ll please you at home.”

A guttural groan left his throat. “Please, Sorcha.” He rolled his thumb harder against my clit.

The way he said my name in time with his touch nearly undid me there and then.

If I didn’t stop him now there would be no telling him to quit.

“We have to stop.” I took a half step back that was cut off by the iron press of his grip on my thigh.

I glared down at him, trying desperately not to roll against his touch again. “Corban.”

His tongue slid between his lips. “I love the way you say my name when you’re panting.”

And I was panting. He was driving me closer to the edge.

My nerves were on fire. From his touch, from the thrill that someone might see us.

It felt like I would fall out of my skin any second.

His fingers worked between the sore sensitive flesh to the point I could hear my own wetness between one song dying and another starting.

His eyes narrowed as mine widened.

“Keep dancing,” he commanded. I shook my head even though I moved my hips to this side and that. I didn’t want to obey and yet I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t. “Dance until you come. I want my hand glistening, Sorcha.”

“Fuck,” I gasped.

“That’s it.” His fingers worked furiously, stroking hard and fast against the upper ridge of my pussy.

I rolled my hips and moved my arms to the side. I knew the song playing but the only tune I focused on was the bass of our breaths as they deepened and the slick slapping his palm made against my flesh, against my clit, sending in shockwaves through my entire body.

I stiffened and fell forward, my hand slapping down on his shoulder. I dug my nails into his shirt, trying to find purchase on his skin beneath as I came. My hair fell around my face, mercifully concealing it as I let out a silent sound, my mouth gaping in sheer ecstasy.

Corban’s grin was corrupt. He pulled his fingers free and slid them into my mouth. “Taste how ready you are for me.”

I was thankful for the curtain of my hair because I don’t think I could have stopped myself from sucking his fingers clean.

I ran my tongue between them until he pulled back and pushed them against the middle of my chest, easing me back.

He gave my body an appraising look, starting with my heeled feet all the way to the mess of my hair.

“Let me clean up and let’s go home,” I said before anything else that might damn us both could pass between those beautiful lips, which were parted, no doubt ready to issue another filthy command. “I’ll do whatever you want, let’s just get home first.”

Corban’s brow arched. “Whatever I want?”

I’d probably regret saying that, but I nodded. “Yes. Anything.”

At the lift of his chin I turned and made a beeline for the bathroom. With every step, I could feel the eyes of the bar following me.