Page 7 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

“I thought we were going to another club?” Sarina asks as we walk inside Adornment. A bell tinkles above our heads as the door opens.

“We are.” I guide her through the store with my hand on the small of her back. “But we need proper attire first. And this boutique doubles as an entrance to the club.”

Adding another detour during our search for Lennox is not ideal, but there is no way they’ll let us into the club in the outfits we’re currently wearing.

Sarina glances around the store at the racks of cocktail dresses and, beyond them, at the shelves and displays with lingerie and heels. Realization washes over her face. She pauses and stares at a black dress with an almost sheer top, her fingers plucking at the price tag.

She swallows. “I don’t have any money on me,” she mutters.

I shake my head and push her hand away from the price tag. “Don’t worry about it.”

She sighs and angles her head at me, her hand on her hip. “Sebastian.”

“What?”

“You can’t—”

“I can, and I will.” I spin on my heel and walk towards the counter in the back, where a blonde and a brunette attendant wait.

I rest my fingertips against the surface and nod towards Sarina, who meanders through the store, already on the hunt for something to wear even with her initial refusal.

“Help her find something,” I order the females.

The blonde skirts around the counter and ventures towards Sarina, leaving me with the brunette, Amelia, who is a member of our pack.

I mindlink her. “Levi will pick up our belongings. Leave them in a bag in the alley. ”

She nods.

I return the gesture then rush over to the men’s section of the boutique. It is much smaller compared to what they offer females, but I find something to wear easily enough, changing into a dark gray suit and a black tie as fast as I can while Sarina shops.

When I exit the dressing room, Sarina and the blonde are nowhere in sight, which is good because that means she’s trying on outfits already. But the absence of her near me, the lack of her honeysuckle scent and her feisty smile, creates a sensation within me I hesitate to put a name to.

I lean against the wall next to the boutique’s private entrance to The Black Door, arms and ankles crossed, my body tense so I don’t pace the floor while I wait for Sarina.

My lycan tugs against my reins, urging me to check on her and be near her, but I don’t want to see what ridiculous lacy, stringy things the shop attendants picked out for her. Not yet. Not at all .

If everything goes to plan, if Forrest—the club’s owner—is able to speak with us quickly, she’ll keep it hidden under her dress the entire night and I’ll never see it. It will be left a mystery, a fantasy. Although, I’m not sure that’s any better.

For the third time tonight, that taboo slideshow runs through my mind. Only this time, the images linger and tease instead of flashing by too fast for me to make sense of.

I imagine Sarina on her knees, arms bound behind her back, wearing lacy red lingerie with a high neck and an open crotch, her knees spread and neck arched. I imagine her sprawled across a table, wrists and ankles tied, an audience of eyes watching as I play with her restrained body.

Every snapshot I envision is more erotic than the last, promising an experience I crave. But none of them are as sweet or as beautiful as I know the real thing will be.

“She’s ready,” the blonde attendant says from near the dressing rooms, pulling me from my tantalizing thoughts.

Heels click across the floor, and I straighten, putting my hands in my pockets as Sarina approaches.

My eyes land on her shoes first. They’re black, with laces that crisscross and wrap all the way up her legs, disappearing beneath the hem of her sleeveless black dress.

The skirt ends at the tops of her thighs.

A deep V-neckline reaches to her belly button, giving me a peek of the black lace-and-string lingerie she’s chosen to wear underneath.

The fabric molds against her round breasts and exposes her gorgeous neck, and fuck if I don’t want to rip that dress off her to see what’s underneath.

A possessive growl builds inside me. I hold it in, but Sarina’s eyes flash, her chin lifting higher and her tits pushing forward, as if she knows I like what I see a bit too much.

I stalk towards her, slow and sure, and keep my composure as we stare at each other. I walk in a circle to examine her. The heels highlight and lift her ass, and her outfit shows off enough of her to tease but not enough to give everything away at first.

“Put it all on my account,” I tell the shop employee, my gaze never leaving Sarina’s body.

From the corner of my eye, I see the attendant nod and leave, and then I close the distance between Sarina and me, hovering behind her. I gaze down at her over her shoulder.

Goddess, she’s perfect. Showing her off in there is going to be so much fun. Parading her around to give everyone a taste of what they can’t have, a glimpse of what’s mine? It’ll fulfill some of my deepest, darkest desires.

Too bad it’s all pretend.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask her for at least the hundredth time since we left Moonlighters.

She nods.

“Tell me. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes…sir.” Her eyes flick to mine.

I nearly groan. This will be more difficult than I thought, but I grit my teeth and push down my impulses and my growing desire.

“Good girl.” I rub her upper arm, soothing any lingering nerves she may have. “Did you pick a safe word?”

She nods. “Lemon.”

“Lemon?” I double-check.

She nods again.

I step closer, closing the gap between us. Lowering my mouth to her ear, I whisper so only she can hear, “Remember what I told you on our way here: if you feel uncomfortable at all or need to leave, you just say that word, and we’ll go. No questions asked, no judgment, no consequences. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she repeats .

My dick twitches, and I clench my teeth harder. She’s too good at this already, and I don’t think she even realizes it.

I continue stroking her arm, enjoying the feel of her skin and her reaction to my gentle caresses.

“I’ve never done something like this,” she confesses softly. “I mean, as nomads, we blend in and pretend to be something we’re not all the time, but never…never anything like this.”

“It’s fine to be nervous.” My mouth brushes the shell of her ear, and she shivers. “It will help our act. Just keep your eyes downcast and defer to me as much as possible, especially when someone speaks to you,” I instruct.

I pinch my lips together and lean away, resisting the urge to kiss her cheek or her neck. Then I reach into my pocket, take out the thin strip of fabric I stole from the bottom half of her red dress, slice a section of it off, and return it to my pocket.

“There is one final piece you need for your costume.” I lift the remaining fabric and let it dangle from my fingertips. “One last accessory to complete your ensemble.”

Her brow furrows as she stares at it. “Is that from my—”

I raise a brow at her, and she clamps her lips shut, facing forward again.

I wrap the fabric around her neck. “This will ensure no one but me will touch you.”

“My torn dress?”

“Your choker,” I correct her as I gather the two ends together at her nape. “It’s a signal that you are claimed, that you belong to someone—to me. It warns others away and lets them know you are off limits.”

She swallows as her fingers lift to the fabric, brushing over where it clings to the front of her neck.

I deftly tighten and tie it. When it’s done, I spin us a quarter turn to face the full-body mirror to the right of the club’s entrance, my hands once again gripping her upper arms as I slide my body right behind hers, so my chest presses into her back.

With a thundering heart, she meets my eyes in the mirror.

I drop a kiss right above the bow of her makeshift collar, no longer attempting to resist my urges to shower her with affection. There’s no reason to resist right now. Not while we’re pretending to be a Dom and his sub.

“Look how fucking sexy you are.” My voice is a deep, heavy rasp in my chest .

It vibrates through her body, and she shudders again from my warm breath on her skin and the timbre of my voice, her lashes fluttering.

“Are you ready, Baby Girl?” I ask.

Her eyes open again, and she smooths her palms down the front of her dress. “Yes, Sir.”

I inhale Sarina’s honeysuckle scent and kiss her neck one more time, then step around her and offer her my elbow before we head into The Black Door.