Chapter 18
Dylan nodded at me, his lips curling in a smile. My heart beat so loudly I swore it was louder than the DJ’s bass.
I opened my mouth to speak, but he held his finger up to his lips. He picked up two gold masks from the table and motioned for me to turn around.
I did, and he tied the mask onto my face, pulling the ribbon tight. The touch of his fingertips on my neck sent bolts of electricity down my back.
He tied on his own mask and reached out and held my hand. He rubbed his thumb across my knuckle, giving me goosebumps.
Dylan leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You found me.” His breath was hot against my skin.
“I believe you found me.” I managed to speak, endorphins pumping, my body shaking.
“Shall we go?”
He took my hand and I squeezed him tight as he led me along the edge of the dance floor. He was here, touching me. He led us toward a short set of stairs and to a back exit. Nobody noticed us; in our masks, we blended into the crowd.
No one knew it was Strand who walked through the room, holding my hand, while clubgoers gossiped and looked at their phones, whispering their theories about his surprise performance.
The DJ was in full dance mode now, the thumping of the bass leading the crowd to jump in unison. The ground shook with every step.
Dylan pushed open the exit, revealing a hall lit by a dim, blue exit sign. The door shut behind us, dampening the sound and vibration of the music and the crowd on the other side.
We stood side by side. For me, the realization we were alone in the dark felt like the fulfillment of my fantasy, where Dylan and I slipped away like all the other lovers in the club.
I turned toward him and placed my hand on his chest, both still wearing gold masks over our eyes. Looking up at him, I was amazed how much different he looked to me. It was like he was Dylan and Strand all at once.
The crowd roared with applause and the music continued to pump at a steady beat on the other side of the door. “I didn’t know if I would see you again,” I said, leaning into him.
“I needed to touch you,” he said. His hands finding my backside, he pulled my body closer. “Truth?”
“Always. Truth.”
“I saw Leo today. He told me he planned to take you here. That’s when I decided.” He lowered his lips against mine. He didn’t kiss me; he breathed me. My sex tightened in response.
“What did you decide?”
He leaned in closer. Our lips brushed and a tingle of pleasure moved through my body. “I needed to play for you tonight. It had to be you.”
His chest rose and fell. There was a slight quiver in his every breath. “You are the only one who could bring me back from it all.”
“Back from what?”
“From my mistakes.”
“What mistakes?”
He pulled away, his dark eyes locking on mine. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he pressed his lips against mine.
His hands moved down my back and he gripped my hips. He groaned and jerked my body toward him.
I rocked my hips forward, feeling his hard cock. I put my hand on his dick, moving my hand back and forth over his enormous bulge.
“Fuck.” He inhaled and exhaled. “Fuck, you feel good.”
I kept one hand on his cock, and with the other, unbuckled his pants and slid them down his body. I didn’t break eye contact as I dropped to my knees in front of him.
I reached up and lowered his briefs; his cock dropped in front of me. It was fucking beautiful. Veins running up and down the sides, I could see every ridge. I wanted to ride him. I kissed the tip of his penis, licked the wet drop of come off his tip, and licked my lips.
“Fuck.” He ground out a growl. I licked him again as he gripped my hair in his hands, pulling me closer.
I opened my mouth and took him inside. He was delicious. My mouth relaxed; my lips wrapped around my teeth. I pulled him in and out, licking and flicking with my tongue on every stroke.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he groaned. I looked up. His head was back, eyes hooded. I took him in deeper and deeper, sucking and pulling him closer to losing control.
“Bella,” he said, his breathing coming out in short bursts laced with moans.
“Now,” I gasped, between thrusts. I opened my throat, taking him in so deep I almost gagged. His hands grasped my hair and his hips drove his cock into my mouth.
Eyes glazed, his control slipped away and with one deep thrust, he jerked and pulsed his release down my throat. I swallowed his hot come as his breathing slowed, his cock still twitching in my mouth.
“Perfect,” he said. “So, fucking perfect.”
I licked my lips and stood. He pulled me in close for a kiss. His tongue danced inside my mouth as we both tasted the salt and musk of his come.
I breathed out a whimper. “Your music is so beautiful.”
“So are you,” he said. “I want more, Bella.” He traced a finger across my lower lip and his eyes darkened.
“I want to feel your perfect pussy shaking all around me while you wear those goddamn, beautiful, fuck-me boots.” His voice was low and husky, even as he smiled.
“Oh, you noticed these little old things?” I said, lifting one of my heels in the air.
“I noticed them.” He took my hand and placed it on his dick. It was rock hard under my touch.
“You are joking,” I said in mock surprise. “Do you have a medical condition?” I giggled.
“I am always hard for you,” he said.
I looked at the door. “Someone could come in.”
“No one is coming in,” he said. “Take off your pants.”
It took only a moment to consider his offer. The realization that a crowd of people were just inches away from us heightened the tension.
This was naughty and dangerous. I loved it. I stepped out of my boots, slid off my leather pants and underwear. He pointed to my sweater.
I nodded and lifted it over my head. I undid my bra, revealing my breasts. My nipples erect, I stood naked before him, my body bathed in the blue light of the exit sign. It reminded me of the moonlight the night we met.
“Boots on,” he said, reminding me.
“Boots on.” I slipped my foot into each boot and bent over, showing him my ass, as I pulled the long zipper up each leg. I stood naked, wearing nothing but my red leather, thigh-high boots.
“Fuck me, please,” I said, using my sweetest and most demure voice.
He grunted out a response, and grabbed me, his hands under my ass. In a rush, he lifted me in the air and slammed me against the brick wall. One hand swept behind me, protecting me from the impact.
The jolt surprised me; a rush of adrenaline and desire left me gasping. He pressed against me, his lips against mine, his tongue probing inside my mouth.
“You are mine,” he said, between hungry kisses. “Say it.”
“I’m yours. Only yours.”
He held me in the air, pressed against the wall, my legs wrapped around his hard abs. He slipped one hand close to my pussy and jammed three fingers inside me.
“Open, baby.”
I let loose a strangled cry as his fingers thrust and circled deep inside me. He wasn’t taking his time. He didn’t need to. My pussy was swollen and dripping wet for him.
He opened a condom, and leaning against me he rolled it on. He lifted my hips up slightly, guiding my body until my opening was poised right against his hot tip. My legs spread wide. He didn’t take his time. I was ready.
He pushed into me in one steady thrust, the sensation of being filled and stretched so immediate and so good. His kiss muffled my cries of pleasure.
He rocked into me, his hands protecting my body from the wall. With steady, even thrusts, he drove his cock into me again and again. Our bodies collided and energy coiled inside me hard and fast.
“Take it,” he said, his voice ragged. “Take me, baby.” He thrust into me with every word.
“More.” I gasped. “I’m so close. So close. More.”
His head rolled back as he drove into me deeper, harder. Holy shit, he was touching me in places that were so deep. I was so full, so utterly possessed and owned by this man.
“Now. Now. Now.” My voice rose with every thrust. I bucked against him as an orgasm tore through my body.
He exploded with me, a throbbing pulse, beating deep inside me. He joined in my pleasure. Dylan held me in his arms as we shattered together. Aftershocks rippled through me, my body still pressed up against the wall.
Dylan slowly lowered me to the ground. I was unsteady on my feet. He slipped an arm around my waist to keep me from falling.
He leaned down and kissed my forehead, my cheeks, and my lips. “Bella,” he said. “I need another night with you.”
Our hands intertwined. I looked up, my heart reaching for him. He wanted another night. I wanted all of them. “I do, too.” I brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. He grasped my hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing my knuckles.
“To another night in Venice,” he said, his lips still pressed against my hand.
As I looked into his beautiful, brown eyes, alarm bells rang inside me. This was about sex in Venice. Once he left Venice, it was over. My heartbeat sounded a warning.
The tender touch of his lips against mine, the way he gently brushed the hair off my face, none of these moments were just sex. It felt like more. Was it more?
Were we fucking, or making love? What if it was both. I felt more than lust in his touch.
I didn’t know what it all meant, but I knew that the deeper my feelings, the harder it was going to be for me when he said goodbye. I feared the pain, but I couldn’t say no to the pleasure.
“Another night in Venice,” I repeated. This gorgeous man was more than an addiction. He felt like the air I needed to breathe.