XI
Dawson Rossi
M y eyes glaze over as I watch the CCTV of the club. It’s only been open a few hours, but we’ve already had a busy night kicking out people who are too drunk.
I need a fucking drink.
After sending a text to the security team to watch the cameras, I head downstairs to the bar. A glimmer of silver catches my eye as I turn from the bar with a whiskey in my hand.
A small woman is walking through the bar, a tight silver slip dress highlighting all of her sharp curves.
Hazel.
She holds on to her brunette friend’s hand, smiling and laughing as they make their way to the bar.
I keep out of sight, watching her as she orders drinks from one of the bartenders. They turn around and pull out flasks from their bras, spiking their drinks with a clear liquid.
Interesting.
Her eyes flicker around the club expectantly, like she’s looking for someone. When she doesn’t find what she wants to see, she shakes her head with a smile at her friend and leads her onto the dancefloor.
Emerging from the dark area of the bar, I move to one of the booths and sit down, keeping my eyes on Hazel the entire time. I sip my drink, watching as she lets loose with her friend. Her hips move seductively, and she throws her head back with laughter, her ebony hair falling down her back in curled tangles.
A man approaches her, and she greets him as though she knows him. He holds onto her waist, and they dance together in a way that has my heckles rising.
My fingers clench around my glass and I pull out my phone to update the guys on the situation. Sliding my phone back into my suit trousers, I notice Hazel is introducing the man to her friend. She winks at her and nods, before whispering something in his ear.
He looks deflated for a second until her friend pulls him towards her. She kisses him as Hazel dances around them, seemingly not bothered that her friend is with the man instead of her.
Men stare at her as she dances like no one is watching, letting the beat guide her to let loose. She looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her, not noticing their creepy stares or entertaining their unwanted advances.
Her central heterochromia eyes meet mine and she grins, the alcohol clearly boosting her confidence. I raise my drink to her, and she copies my action, keeping eye contact as she continues dancing.
My breathing deepens as she runs her hand up her body, drawing my attention to her breasts. She winks and flips her hair over her shoulder before turning away from me.
I make my move, stalking towards her like she’s, my prey. I press my front against her back, tracing my fingers up her arms until she shivers. Moving her hair away from her neck, I lean in and kiss it softly.
“What are you doing?” She asks, her voice barely carrying above the music. Her friend looks over and winks at her before returning her attention back to the man.
“Come with me, Spitfire.”
She lets me guide her up the stairs, and I don’t miss the way people stare at us in jealousy. Eyes watch us as I lead her into the office, until I shut the door behind us.
“Did you enjoy dancing for me, Babygirl?” I whisper against the nape of her neck. She shivers against me, and I pull her over to the desk chair.
She stands there awkwardly until I pull her into my lap. She gasps, freezing as she sits on my knee, but I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her flush against me. Her ass brushes against my crotch. I groan, hiding my face in her shoulder as she wiggles against me, making it impossibly hard to keep my cock discreet.
“Dawson,” she whispers breathlessly. The sound goes straight to my dick, making it jump in my trousers.
“You look so pretty, Spitfire,” I ran my finger along her collarbone. She reacts to my touch, goosebumps spreading across her skin as she shivers.
“Who were you looking for earlier?” I ask her as I kiss her neck.
“No-one,” she answers, her voice quiet.
I hum against her neck, not satisfied with her answer. I know she’s hiding something from me.
“Are you sure about that?” I press on, moving from her neck to her ear, “Was it us you were looking for?”
Her breath catches and I know I’ve hit my mark.
“Tell me, Spitfire. Did you wear this dress so we could see it? Was it for us?”
She nods her head, swallowing anxiously.
“And what did you want us to do when we saw you, huh?” I ask, my Italian accent sounding thicker than usual in my lust for her, “Did you want one of us to touch you here?” I move my hand to her thigh, skating over her pale skin just enough for her to feel its presence.
She inhales sharply, wiggling her ass unintentionally on my lap. I smirk and kiss her neck again, enjoying the warmth of her skin on my lips. My hand rests on her thigh, and I slowly rub it up and down, toying with her slightly through my touch.
“Shall I call the others?” I smirk. She shakes her head, but I’ve already pulled out my phone. I call our separate group chat, and they all pick up quickly. Placing it on the desk, I put it on speakerphone before returning my hand to her thigh.
“Say hello, Spitfire,” I say, not hiding the amusement in my voice. She turns to look at me with wide eyes, but I wink at her and nod my head to the phone.
“Dawson, why is Hazel with you?” Andros calls through the phone.
“She showed up at the club in a little silver dress, hoping to get our attention,” I answer, enjoying as Hazel shuffles on my lap in discomfort at the conversation.
There’s silence on the phone for a few moments until Atlas speaks, his voice lower than usual.
“Describe the dress to us, Principessa.”
“Tell us what we’re missing, Babygirl,” Theo adds.
She blanches for a moment before clearing her throat and answering in a shaky, unsure voice.
“It’s just a silver dress,” she shrugs, “it’s the only one I have in my wardrobe.”
“It fits her perfectly. You should see her in person, Andros. She looks like a pure angel,” I smirk.
“Can you corrupt her, Dawson?” Atlas challenges.
“I don’t know. Can I, Spitfire?” I ask for her consent as my hand slowly drifts up her thigh. She looks at me with wide eyes and her mouth slightly parted. I wait for her nod before I let my fingers dip under the hem of her dress.
I locate her panties, a satisfied smile spreading across my lips when I find the lacy material soaked through.
“I think she likes this,” I tell the others as she blushes. I pull the lace to the side and run my finger up her slit, gathering her wetness on my index finger. She moans at my touch as I brush over her clit and her eyelids flutter closed.
“What’s he doing to you, Angel?” Andros asks her. She opens her eyes as her mouth parts open in shock.
“Answer him, Principessa,” Atlas commands when she doesn’t answer.
“His hand…” She drifts off as I pinch her clit. A moan escapes her mouth, and I hear a collection of groans from the others through the phone.
“Keep doing that to her, Dawson,” Andros instructs, and I roll my eyes.
Like I was going to stop.
I slide my finger down and press it slowly inside her. I revel in her moans and deep breaths as her hot channel tightens around me. She’s slick with her lust as I quicken my pace, adding another finger.
The rest of the guys urge me on, whispering sweet nothings to her until I get her close to the brink. Her legs begin to shake but I wrap my arm around her stomach to keep her in place as I use my thumb onto her clit. Her cries are like a musical symphony to my ears.
“Beg to come, Little One,” Theo commands and she whimpers like the perfect submissive.
“What?” She asks hoarsely.
“If you want Dawson to make you orgasm, you’re going to have to ask for it,” Atlas growls.
She turns to face me, and I raise my eyebrows expectantly. I watch as she battles with her pride, and I pinch her clit to build her further up to the precipice. She closes her eyes as a long moan escapes her.
“Dawson… please…” She tries to speak but I don’t let her finish, instantly increasing my pace until her lips fall open in a silent cry. Her whole body shakes in my arms as her orgasm barrels through her and the others groan as her cries become louder and louder.
When she starts to become over-stimulated, I pull my fingers out of her, keeping eye contact as I suck them clean in my mouth. She blinks at me in shock, and I wink at her before grabbing the phone and pulling it closer to us.
“Say thank you, Angel.”
She gulps at Andros’s command but thanks me quietly. After ending the call, I wrap my arms tighter around her, sliding my hand under her legs so she’s curled up in my lap.
She stays laying on me in exhaustion, and we co-exist in a comfortable silence until her senses return to her.
“I need to go find Sabrina,” she whispers, her head still nestled in my chest. She stands up and rearranges her dress, walking over to the door.
“This can’t happen again,” she whispers as she faces away from me. I watch as she leaves the room, the door shutting behind her.
Fuck.