Page 48 of Raine

She walks away and some of the heaviness I feel moves with her. There are so many questions whirling around in my skull; my mind catapulting to meltdown. But when Gabe places his warm hand on my thigh, my mind quietens, and it feels as if my demons are whispering instead of screaming.

He cups my face and draws my face toward him, our lips inches apart, and he looks as if he’s cataloging my features to memory.

Embarrassment flares within me, and I wonder where the fuck Raine Voroniva went, princess of the fucking Tartarus Mafia, because she doesn’t get embarrassed. Ever.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” I say, removing his hands and facing the stage again for a distraction from his words.

“Lying to me again, hmm? That’s not the best way to start a relationship.”

“Relationship?” I say, my head snapping back to look at him.

He nods his head, his lips and face scrunching a little, and I notice the lines that signal his age. “Of course. We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Friends?” I sass, “I’m pretty sure we’re only here because we were going to fuck.”

And there she is, the scared little girl inside of me that hides behind sarcasm and innuendos.

My eyes blow wide when he snatches my face in his hands, anger emitting from his hold and snaking through mine and squeezing.

“Don’t fucking do that. I’m not one of your little fuckboys, Raine, and it won’t be tolerated,” he releases me, and I suck in a shuddering breath, wondering why the fuck that turned me on.

His hand returns to my thigh as a new waitress takes our order while we watch the couple scening in front of us. For the next hour, Gabe makes lazy circles on my thigh, the material rubbing and causing little flames to light along my skin underneath.

His hand is hedging higher, closer to the promise land, and when his fingers are a breath away, my thighs clamp together and he chuckles darkly.

“Open your legs, little one. I’m sure those drugs are working out of your system enough now to know what you’re doing.”

Desolation seeps deep inside of me, latching on, and I hate the fact that I have disappointed him again tonight. Determination replaces the feeling, and I open my legs, wanting to please him and knowing he’s going to find me wet through the thin material.

“Good girl,” he says, his breath whispering over the shell of my ear.

He moves in closer, our thighs pressed tightly against each other’s, while he circles his left arm around my waist and brings his right hand to rest on my upper thigh.

It tingles under his touch, the lingering effects of the pill dissipating and being replaced by the feeling ofhim.

“Wider, baby, and keep your eyes on the couple in front of us. Keep quiet and only speak when I ask you a question. If you’re comfortable with what we’re about to do, then I need to hear your words, Raine.”

“Ok.”

“Oh, and Raine?”

“Hmm,” I hum.

“Call me Daddy.”

My pussy clenches, and I shift my thighs to try to get his hand where I need it. He laughs low and dark and fuck me if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve heard.

“You ready, little one?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Eyes on the stage and don’t make a sound unless I ask you a question,” he reminds me, and I nod as he unzips the catsuit at my pussy and pulls my thong to the side.

I focus on the stage in intrigue, tilting my head to the side as I catalog everything I’m seeing. The dark-haired woman is wearing a mask, and she’s lying on her back on a bench, her legs up in what looks like stirrups and tied to the surrounding leather. Her pussy faces the crowd, showcasing how soaked she is, and an envious part of me wishes it was me.

As if sensing my wayward thoughts, Gabe’s fingers brush lightly over my pussy, and I suck in a sharp breath, forcing the moan to stay lodged in my throat.