Page 22 of Scandalous Contract

And just like that, we slid right into dangerous territory. His hands slid up and down my sides as we danced. He moved with me, hips rolling, body pressing against my ass, making it impossible not to feel exactly what he was working with.

Big. Hard. Ready.

I should’ve stopped it. I knew better. But the tequila made me brave. Stupid, but brave. So, I kept going. Kept grinding against him, moving my hips to match the rhythm. Tequila was turning me into a damn fool. A fool who was bouncing her ass on Julian’s cock.

His fingers dragged along my waist, a slow, taunting glide that made my stomach clench. His grip tightened as he pulled me closer, the hard length of him pressing against my ass, thick and unmistakable.

My breath caught, but I didn’t stop moving. I couldn’t. The slow roll of my hips over him had my pulse racing, had my thighs clenched against a growing ache that had nothing to do with dancing.

His breath, warm and teasing, ghosted against my neck and shoulder as his lips hovered, not quite touching but oh so close. Teasing. Torturing. This man knew exactly what he was doing to me. He was unraveling me with each move, each exhale, each slide of his hardness against my ass.

His touch stayed light at first, fingertips gliding over my figure, making my skin prickle. But then he got bolder, testing how much I’d let him get away with. His hands smoothed down to my hips, guiding my body, pulling me back against him as he pushed against me.

At this point, we were pretty much hunching on the dance floor, and tequila wasn’t allowing me to give one raggedy fuck. We were no longer moving to the beat of the music. We’d created our own song, our own melody.

The next thing I knew, I was turning in his arms. My gaze rose to his. I swear this man looked too good to be true. He wasn’t trying to hide what he was feeling. I saw the hunger in his eyes. No one had ever stared at me that way before.

I’d been lusted after. That wasn’t anything new. But Julian’s stare was filled with a hunger that was more than lust. I didn’t have the words to describe the look. All I knew was that it made me ache for him, and I was pretty sure he was aching for me.

My hands slid around his neck, and his hands found the small of my back, pulling me in close. The feel of his warm hand against my bare back had my nipples pebbling. I rolled my body against him, wanting him to feel exactly what he was doing to me.

I damn sure felt what I was doing to him. He moved with me, body rolling against me. I had to give it to him; he could dance. I couldn’t help but wonder how much better this would be without our clothes and the crowd.

That was dangerous thinking. But tonight, I was feeling like a dangerous woman. A scandalous woman. And Julian was behaving a bit scandalous himself. His hands slid down my back and roamed over the curve of my ass before gripping it tightly.

I had more than a handful back there, and he seemed to appreciate every bit of it. I gyrated my ass against his hands as he leaned down, resting his forehead against mine as he moved with me.

I was fully aware this was reckless. I was thankful for how dark and crowded the club was because Julian and I were one wrong move away from being the main attraction on the dance floor. And I didn’t care. Not in that moment.

The music, the tequila, his hands, it was all blurring together. Then, his hand slid higher, up my back, slow and firm, his fingers brushing along my bare skin until they were tangled in the curls at the nape of my neck.

He gripped gently, just enough to make my breath hitch. Just enough to let me know there would be no escaping him. Just enough to make me wonder what else he’d like to take control of if I let him. He leaned in, lips near my ear, his voice low and rough.

"What would you say if I asked you to dance like that on my tongue?"

Gush!

I melted. Literally melted like butter in a hot skillet. My knees felt weak, my heart raced. My response was instinctual, primal, a slow grind against him that answered his question better than words ever could.

"Just like that," he murmured, lips grazing my earlobe. "I want you to grind on my tongue just like that. I want you to ride my mouth. Make a mess on my face. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you grind on my tongue just like that?”

It was at that moment that I knew I was fucked... or at least about to be. Because yes, I could definitely do that for him. I could do that and so much more.

Damn you, Tequila.