CHAPTER 35
Luna
“Oh,” Quinn says as he creeps into our room. “You’re still up.”
It’s late. Really late. But I had fun. Shelia, May, and Bernice, who we call Bernie, they’re pretty fun when they’re not trying to talk to me about chores. A group of “the club girls” from the city showed up. They were…less fun. Or, maybe, more intimidating.
They don’t all have classic Irish red hair and green eyes, a dumb thought I had.
I should know better since not every Italian woman has my exact coloring.
Apparently, Quinn’s clubs employ Black girls, White girls, an Asian girl is here too.
Different heights, different vibes. A couple of them are doe-eyed girl-next-door types.
A couple seem more wild and free, like hippies.
A few are bombshells exuding sex from every pore.
Each one is curvier than me, more…womanly.
Definitely more experienced, but who isn’t?
I couldn’t help wondering if Quinn had been with any of them. Or all of them.
“Party’s still going,” I say, giving the balcony doors a pointed glance.
I’m tipsy.
And horny.
And stock still, one dim lamp on in the corner, listening to the party below like a creeper.
Quinn walks over to me, towering above where I sit on the couch. He’s so big in here. I never see him in this room, only evidence of him. A jacket on the chair, a comb on the bathroom counter. I sleep like the dead and he’s always in late and out early. Avoiding me, I’m sure.
“You’ve been listening?” He says, his voice gritty.
“Gotta get off somehow,” I say, bitter. I need to shut my mouth. But just a few drinks and I have no filter, no off switch. It’s why I rarely drink.
“Luna,” Quinn warns.
“Is it because I’m a virgin?” I ask, but I don’t let him respond because my mouth is going off the rails again.
“Is it because I’m a stick? I’ve always been like this, more…
athletic. Z used to always call me a string bean.
I wondered all these years if men even wanted my body at all or if they just wanted a virgin or if maybe they just wanted the mafia princess. I guess you—”
“Stand up,” Quinn says as he grabs my hand and tugs me out of my seat. “Come,” he says, already leading me to the balcony. He opens the door and I can immediately hear it. There’s still some music playing somewhere, and some men in the distance talking. But there’s moaning. Thumping too.
“What are you…” Quinn pulls me to the edge of the balcony. I stop but he puts his hands on my hips and pushes me straight to the railing. Then he cages in behind me.
“Watch,” he says in my ear.
“I…”
“You want to watch them, so watch.”
I look down and see…everything. Some drunken kissing, a hand up a skirt, a naked guy railing someone from behind that I can’t see.
A naked woman with two men touching her…
everywhere. A couple on all fours with some clothes still on.
A man by himself watches, hand in his pants.
Two of the girls watch as well, groping themselves all over.
There are more but I squeeze my eyes shut, finding it all hard to process. Everyone’s moves are languid and almost in sync. Their eyes are glazed too. Must be on ecstasy, or something like it. Something more powerful.
A noise escapes me when one of the men looks up and locks eyes with me for a beat. They can see us here. It’s not a high balcony. A shudder runs through me at the realization.
“They want your body,” Quinn whispers.
“What?”
“All the men. Not the virgin or the princess. You. They want your body. I’ll prove it to you.”
“H-how?”
“Give me your neck and watch.” He puts a rough, hot hand on the back of my neck and twists my head to the side.
Then his lips graze the base of my throat, right at the line of my high-necked dress.
I whimper at the contact. He hums in response as he moves his kisses up.
Each kiss is more. He opens his lips, he sucks, he licks, “Look,” he grunts with a bite to my earlobe.
But I don’t know what he means. “Look, now he’s kissing her neck.
” I search and see it, two of the different couples, the man is all over the girl’s neck.
“That…I…”
“Untie your dress, Luna.” What? I squeak what was supposed to be a word but he explains, “Trust me. Untie your dress.”
Hands trembling, I pull on the first leather tie, then the second, then the third.
At that, Quinn growls, “Too slow.” He tugs so the dress falls but I catch it just before my boobs spill out.
He puts his hand over mine across my chest and his voice comes out a deep rumble, “All of them are too high to remember this or I would take their eyes out. Now let me show you how much everyone fucking wants you. Pull your dress down for me.”
I drop my hand but I let him tug the dress down.
“Fuck!” Quinn whispers as he takes one of my tits in his hand and he squeezes, “Look. Look, Luna,” he says before muttering a string of Irish curses.
They…they are all grabbing breasts. Massaging, doing whatever Quinn does to me.
“That…that’s just the X,” I mumble.
“No, because they’re looking at you. Watching you.
They wish they were touching you.” He adds his other hand, squeezing, pulling, playing with me.
And he’s right. They are looking at me. His lips and tongue work up and down both sides of my neck.
“Look at the women, too. They want to be you, Luna. No one can look away from you. Fuck!” He pinches both my nipples, hard.
I cry out. His hands leave me and go to my wrists.
He takes my hands and pulls them up to where his just were.
“Touch yourself, play with your perfect tits and watch them watching you.”
I do as he says but it’s hard to focus because he…he’s pulling up my dress.
“A thigh blade? Fuck, Luna!” I’m frozen for a second, afraid he’ll take the knife and play with it…
on me. I…I’m not okay with that. He hesitates, but, as if he can read my mind, he unclips the holster and tosses it aside.
Now my dress is bunched across my middle and cool air meets my skin everywhere else. But I’m not cold.
I’m on fire.
Quinn’s fingers toy with my black thong, back and forth across my lower back. My ass is totally exposed and I’m a live wire. Is he going to spank me? Lick me? Take my virginity right here with some of his men watching?
“How…how could you not know you’re the sexiest woman alive?
Damn it!” More Irish curses. “No. No. I need to see you.” He says, then he picks me up and sets me on the railing.
I grab his arms for dear life. The railing is thick concrete but it looks like it’s a million years old.
“I’ve got you,” he says as he grips me anew, pulling me into him.
One arm is holding me around my back, gripping the outside of my hip, securing me to the banister.
His other hand is…on one of my leather boots.
“These boots,” he mutters as his hand travels up the leather to my knee. He’s looking down to my exposed thigh between where my boots end and the dress is bunched up. Then he glances up at my chest, which is rock hard and totally exposed.
He hums, like he’s hesitating, warring internally and…
OH!
He licks my nipple. Once, hard, then he grabs hold with his mouth and sucks. Hums again. Breaks away with his eyes closed, like pulling back took all of his strength. After a beat he opens his eyes and locks them with my own.
“I’m going to touch you and you’re going to watch them watch you.” He says, but he doesn’t move. He studies me. Oh. He’s waiting. I nod and I see something in his eyes both relax and pull tight at the same time.
“Play with your perfect tits, Mancini.” He grits out, his hand moving up my thighs but his eyes fixed on my chest. I do as he says, but I don’t watch the crowd, I can’t look away from him.
His angry, carved face is as intense as always but all of the attention is on me. My body. His hand inching up my skin.
He finds my underwear again and strokes my center.
I know there's a wet spot there already and he groans when he feels it with his fingers.
He bites his bottom lip, still just watching his fingers as they touch me.
He moves my underwear aside and swirls his fingers around, and around.
Then just barely teases me with the tip of his finger.
Then again. Around. And around. Tease. Around. Tease. Around.
Forever.
I make a needy sound I should probably be embarrassed about.
One side of his lip twitches but he doesn’t smirk. He’s too intense, too focused.
I can’t get over that look on his face and I also can’t take this anymore.
“Quinn, I—ah!”
He thrusts into me, with two fingers, has to be.
“So tight,” he hisses, watching me.
I moan.
My back arches.
I’m so close already.
I talked a big game but I’m…I’ve…I’ve never experienced this.
He watches my face, then his fingers as he draws them in and out. Then at me again.
“Look, Luna,” he commands in that low, gritty voice from the mat. I love it.
I do steal a quick glance down and…wow. Every man with a woman is watching us and fingering the shit out of his partner. Some of the women are watching too.
“Mhm. Every fucking person wants my wife,” Quinn says. He locks eyes with me and adds, “Including me.”
I moan again.
He curses a string of Irish words and changes what he’s doing, pushing harder and hitting a different spot.
“Look, baby. Look,” he grits out the command to me.
I make eye contact with one man, then another, their mouths are parted and they’re pumping their fingers in another woman but…
This is…
They…
This is so hot…
“Quinn,” I warn.
“Fuck!” He says, pulling me off the ledge and over to a lounge chair in a quick, fluid motion. “Now you look at me.” He commands. The break gives me a second to reset but I’m still close. But I want more.
“Kiss me,” I ask him.
“Tell me,” he says back, lips close to mine again, but not touching. Just like always.
“Please I…I’m…”
“I know you’re close. So fucking beautiful,” he watches me. I close my eyes and slam my mouth shut until he says, “No, Luna, let them hear you.”
He pushes down on my throbbing clit and…
I…
It’s…
“Quinn!” I scream his name in the night.
“Yes, Luna,” he whispers, his voice cracking.
I go tense then limp. I’m unable to think or speak. He rises, cradling me in his arms, and walks me inside. He lays me on his bed gently.
“Up,” he says, and I realize he’s waiting for me to lift my ass so he can pull my dress off.
I listen and then my mouth falls open yet again as he unzips my boots for me.
He places each one by the bed and pulls off my socks.
He grabs Marlon from his perch on my couch and sets him next to me, like he likes.
What even is happening right now?
“Sleep,” he says as he pulls the covers over me.
I look at his crotch where he is obviously just as turned on as I was “But you’re…” I start.
“Hard as a rock and fucking dying here? Aye, I am. But the dogs are upset. Something’s off.” I listen, fighting a smirk at how his accent comes out when he’s more relaxed, or maybe, less relaxed. I do hear the dogs.
And they’re losing their minds out there.
“It’s probably a raccoon. Stay here and sleep,” he says, sensing my concern. “Luna,” I look from the window to him. “Do not go fucking around by yourself, in the dark, this late, and with half the men high out of their minds, okay?”
“Okay,” I say.
“Hm,” he grunts before stepping back to me in one long stride. I frown and brace myself, confused, and then…
He…
He just kissed me on the forehead.
And left.
I put my head in my hands, kick my feet and fight a squeal. I look at Marlon who is looking at me, annoyed I’m keeping him awake. “I mean, did you see that? Unzipping my boots for me? Kissing me on the forehead? What!”
I lay back and then realize I’m naked except for my panties which is just a little too naked. I get up to grab one of Quinn’s shirt from his pile near his closet door. As I go, I hear the dogs again. Still losing it.
I pause, then head toward my clothes instead.
Sleep, my ass.
Raccoon! My! Ass!
Something is going down outside, right here, right now, and no way in hell am I going to miss it.