35. 35 – Ryder
E nzo is still stewing as we pull up to the club. His hand flexes on Zella’s thigh, and she gives him a look .
It’s not a look I’ve seen from her before. Half pissed, half flirtatious.
“It’s a dress,” she tells him patiently for the fiftieth time since we dragged him out of the house, and he snarls.
“That’s not a dress. It’s a fucking band-aid.”
When I snicker, he turns his gaze on me, his jaw flexing. “This is your fault.”
“Enough,” Maverick snaps from the front seat. “Or we’re going home.”
Zella gives Enzo pleading eyes, and he relents. She leans forward to press her face against the window, taking in the queue winding down the block with wide eyes. “There’s so many people!”
“Definitely going to kill someone,” Enzo mutters, and she elbows him.
“Now now, children,” I say lightly. “Tonight is about fun. Letting our hair down.”
Zella winces. “Here?”
“It’s just an expression.” Maverick pulls to a stop outside the main entrance, and I climb out.
The crowd is noisy, dozens of chattering women and men who all crane their necks to have a look as I help Zella out.
She steadies herself against my arm, looking up at Victrola with a dubious expression. “This is a place for dancing?”
“Wait and see.” I offer her my arm as Enzo stomps up behind us and Maverick hands the valet his keys. I keep watching her face as the doors are pulled open, and it doesn’t disappoint.
As we walk through, we’re hit with the pounding bass. It reverberates in my chest, and Zella puts her hand over her heart. “I can feel it here.”
Leaning in, I murmur in her ear so she can hear me. “Means you’ve got music in your soul, princess.”
I lead her through the ground floor of Victrola, keeping to the outskirts as Enzo follows, snarling menacingly at everyone who dares to get within a foot of us.
Not many do.
The scarlet walls are lit with sconces, highlighting the artwork on display.
Zella cranes her neck to stare at them as we pass by, swiveling to take in the black marble bar, the hundreds of bottles on display, the huge golden chandeliers overhead that light up the dancers moving in perfect chaos. “It’s so beautiful!”
We make our way up the winding gold staircase, and she peers over the edge to the dancers on the stage below, craning her head until I have to tug her gently back before she tips over. Her eyes are huge, her smile even bigger when she turns to me. “This is amazing, Ryder.”
“Glad you like it,” I say as we reach the section we’ve reserved for tonight. Maverick murmurs in the ear of a security guard as he unclips a black velvet rope to let us inside.
“They’ll send someone up for drinks orders,” he says.
Zella spins, taking in the space. Comfortable, deep wine-colored couches line the back wall, a large table with an ice-cold champagne bucket ready and waiting.
Directly opposite us is floor to ceiling thick glass, designed to offer the experience of the club without the peasants in the crowd pushing and shoving.
Zella makes a beeline for it immediately, pressing her hands against the glass as she stares down.
Enzo settles himself against the far wall, arms crossed and a glower on his face as Maverick reaches for the champagne.
All of us are unashamedly watching Zella, taking in the way her hips shift underneath that ridiculous excuse for a dress in time with the music, the way the ribbons of her sandals wind up her calves, gold upon gold.
She’s so beautiful, she makes my fucking chest ache.
Maverick calls her in a low voice, and her face lights up when she sees the champagne, a delighted laugh spilling from her lips when the cork pops and Maverick catches the spillage in a tall, fluted glass, handing it to her.
Sniffing the bubbles, she takes a tentative sip before turning to watch the crowd again. Unable to help myself, I take a few steps, slipping my arms around her waist and pulling her back against me. “Happy?” I murmur in her ear, and she hums.
“There’s so much,” she says softly. The music is slightly muted in here, with speakers to help us control the volume. Easier for Zella’s ears, since she hasn’t been anywhere as loud as this before. “I don’t know where to look.”
I press my lips against her neck. “We’ve got all night, princess. Take your time.”
We sway together, and Zella leans her head back against me as she sips her drink and watches the dancers on stage. Maverick murmurs behind us, and I turn my head to see him giving our main drinks order to a waitress at the door.
I frown. She looks familiar, but she ducks out before I can get a good look at her face.
A new song begins and Zella wriggles in my arms. Pushing away any thought of the waitress, I lean in, pressing my fingers lightly into her hips. “Dance with me, princess.”
She turns under my touch, facing me with a self-conscious smile. “I don’t know how.”
“I’ll teach you,” I say without thinking. But as soon as we start moving, as soon as I start coaxing Zella to move her hips in time with mine, her body pressed against me, I realize that this was very much a mistake.
She sucks in a breath as she feels the outline of my cock pressed against her. “Ryder?”
I cup the back of her neck, pressing her into me as we move. “You feel that?” I breathe in her ear. “That’s all for you, Zella. You and your little gold top.”
I feel her laughter in my chest. In my fucking soul. “It’s a dress .”
“Hmmm.” We dance, and I feel the moment the music pours into the room, as Enzo flicks the speakers up and Zella throws her head back, her arms raising in the air as she sways.
We move across the floor until her back presses into the glass of the window, and I swoop down, capturing her lips with mine.
Soft, sweet, she matches my movements until we’re tangled together, her leg wrapped around my waist when I tear my mouth away.
She’s breathing just as heavily as I am, but she grins when I look down at her.
“Can people see us up here?” she asks, craning her head to look behind her at the crowd below.
It gives me ideas. Probably bad ones, but I’ve never been known for good judgment.
She gasps when I spin her, my hands sliding up her arms and pressing her palms into the glass. “Would it bother you?” I murmur into her neck. “To have all these people watching you, princess?”
She tilts her head, silently asking for more, and I sink my teeth into her skin, gently nipping until I reach her ear. She jolts when my hands slide up and inside her dress, reaching inside the lacy excuse for a brasserie she’s wearing and cupping her bare breasts. “Ryder!”
“Shhhh,” I murmur. My hands squeeze her plump mounds, my finger flicking over her nipples as she hardens beneath my touch. “They’re not paying attention to you, little thief.”
I glance over my shoulder. Enzo is solely focused on us, and he moves over to the door, casually settling himself against it so nobody can interrupt. Maverick’s jaw is tight, but he sits back, his eyebrow flying up in silent challenge.
“Play with me, Zella,” I whisper, tugging her nipples until she drops her head back against me, silently pushing into my palms for more. She stiffens when I move my hand to the back of her sequinned dress, slowly undoing the laces. “What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” I murmur, leaning in and kissing her shoulder. “Will you?”
At her slow nod, I pull the halter free, letting it slide down her body until she’s left in the lace set I picked out for her earlier.
Reaching forward, I slide my fingers around the lace covering her breasts, tugging it down until the lace pushes them up, her nipples stiff in the strobe lighting that streaks over us in patterns.
“Fucking gorgeous,” I whisper reverently, and she shudders. She tries to glance over her shoulder, but I nudge her head forward. “Eyes up front, princess. See how many eyes are drawn up here to those pretty tits.”
I press my hand into her back, pushing her forward until she’s pressed against the glass, her hips pushed out. An offering I don’t intend to waste.
She jumps when I kneel behind her, peeling away the pale pink lace covering her.
“Are you wet for me, baby?” I say slowly. She moans when I press my face between her legs, my tongue flicking out for a small taste. She tastes like the finest whiskey on my tongue, and I pull her hips back, settling her against me as I stroke my tongue up and down her folds.
“Ryder!” Zella cries my name as I devour her, her legs trembling against my grip as I push her onto my face.
“Gotta get you ready for my cock, princess,” I rasp when I manage to pull myself away. I’m almost painfully hard, my cock pressing against my slacks, and my groan rings out as I pull myself free, my head already weeping for want of her.
Enzo and Maverick are silent behind me. I can feel their eyes on her, and so can she.
“Please.” She pushes herself back, and I push two fingers slowly into her channel, stretching her out for me and adding a third.
“Are you still sore here?” I ask, and she shakes her head frantically.
“N-no. More.”
I slide my hands up the soft skin of her legs as I stand, drawing a line down her spine with my fingers that makes her tremble against me. “Please.”
“Fuck, I love it when you beg, baby.” I notch the head of my cock against her entrance, pushing in a bare inch and feeling her tighten around me. “Breathe, princess.”
When she relaxes, I push in another inch, and then another, slowly entering her as she shudders against the glass. She’s fucking dripping, and I kiss her shoulder, relishing in the idea of a little exhibitionism.
“Look at them,” I murmur. “Can you feel their eyes on you, Zella? Wanting you?”
When she only moans in return, I thrust the rest of the way in, filling her and bottoming out as she cries out, her breath fogging up the glass.
“They can look,” I rasp, pulling out and thrusting in again. “But they can’t touch, princess. Nobody touches what belongs to us. You understand?”
She makes me feel feral, and I reach around, grabbing her pussy as I push into her, my finger finding the swollen nub of her clit and pinching it between my fingers.
She writhes under me, and I move my other hand to the front of her neck, pulling her back until she’s flush against me.
The little sobbing sounds falling from her lips feel like fucking music of their own, and I fuck her to the rhythm of them, the sounds of our fucking obscene in the otherwise silent room.
“Enzo and Maverick are watching you,” I growl in her ear. “Watching you be such a good little slut for me.”
She fucking melts against me, her pussy tightening on my cock. “Oh, God!”
“There’s no god here, princess,” I say roughly, pushing her forward. “Whose cock is inside you?”
“Yours,” She sobs, as my thrusts increase in speed. “Yours, Ryder!”
“That’s it,” I grunt. I can feel my release tightening at the base of my spine, and the way she’s pulsing around me tells me she’s nearly at that cliff. “The only fucking names you say with our cocks inside you are ours, princess. Because you belong to us .”
Her shriek rings out as I pull her back against me, reaching around and slapping her pussy, feeling the quivers of her release beginning. I bury my face in her neck, roaring into her damp skin as I empty myself inside her with a guttural curse.
She gasps for breath, her fingers curling against the glass as I press my skin against hers, my lips tracing the side of her head. I can feel the moment embarrassment starts to set in, the way her body stiffens beneath mine as she looks down. “Ryder…,”
“Little thief.” I kiss the damp skin below her ear, breathing her in. “You think I’d let anyone else see what belongs to us?”
Reaching out, I tap my knuckles against the thick glass. “It’s one-sided. We can see out, but nobody can see in.”
She sags in my grip as I carefully withdraw from her. Enzo tosses me some napkins, and I clean her up, throwing the cloths into the trash and carefully redoing the knot of her halter as she leans into the window.
Her legs shake when she tries to step away, so I lift her, carrying her across the room and settling her between me and Maverick on the sofa. He presses a glass into her hand, and she takes a greedy gulp, avoiding our eyes.
My hand traces circles on the bare golden skin of her shoulder. “None of that,” I murmur in her ear, and she glances up at me shyly. “No embarrassment here, princess.”