Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
"I said you move like violence in a three-piece suit, even when you're not wearing a suit. And that watching you dominate is better than anything else.”
The honest admission, delivered with such sweet sincerity, nearly undid me right there. Connor choked on his drink while Jax burst into laughter.
"Isla," Estelle breathed, handing her glass off to Jax for another, "Don't give them bigger egos than they already have."
But I wasn't listening to the commentary. I was too busy studying the way Isla's tongue darted out to wet her lips, the way her thighs pressed together under her short dress, the way her eyes had gone dark with want.
She needed me. Right fucking now.
Before she could say another word, I scooped her up from the plush seating, ignoring her squeak of surprise.
The club was darker now, the crowd denser, the music loud enough to drown out conversation. Perfect cover for what I had in mind.
"Adrian," she breathed, raw and desperate.
I carried her toward the back of the club, past the main dance floor, to where a pool table sat abandoned in a dimly lit corner.
The felt surface gleamed green under a single overhead light, surrounded by shadows that would hide us from casual observation.
Setting her down, I spun her so her back was to the crowd, her hands braced against the table's edge.
The position put her pussy perfectly aligned with my hips, and I ground against her slowly, letting her feel exactly how hard she'd made me.
"Fuck," I groaned against her ear, my hands finding her hips. "Watching you watch me, seeing that hunger in your eyes..."
She pushed forward against me, desperate for more friction. "Adrian, please touch me.”
I glanced around quickly, confirming our relative privacy. The corner was shadowed, blocked from most of the crowd by the pool table itself.
Anyone paying attention would know what was happening, but casual observers would miss the details.
Perfect.
Keeping one hand on her hip to hold her steady, I bunched up the front of her dress. The fabric rose inch by inch, revealing the curve of her thighs, the lacy panties that matched her outfit.
"Spread your legs," I commanded softly, and she obeyed immediately, her thighs parting as I slipped my hand between them.
She was soaked through the fabric, her arousal evident even through the lace.
I groaned against her neck, my cock straining against my jeans as I felt how ready she was.
"Fuck, you're dripping," I murmured, pushing the fabric aside to stroke her directly. "My dirty angel got this wet from watching me drink some asshole to death.”
She moaned, the sound lost in the music but vibrating through her body into mine.
I circled her clit with my thumb while sliding two fingers inside her, feeling her walls clench around me desperately.
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.
The need to taste her overwhelmed every other thought.
Dropping to my knees, I pushed her dress up further and buried my face between her thighs, my tongue finding her clit.
The angle put me mostly hidden under the fabric of her dress, but the sight of Isla sitting on the pool table, knees spread wide, clearly being pleasured, would be obvious to anyone who looked our way.
The risk, the exhibitionism, the knowledge that we were claiming each other in full view of a room full of dangerous people—it all combined into an intoxicating cocktail of possession and desire.
"Oh god," she gasped, her hands fisting in her dress as I worked her with my mouth. "Adrian, people can see?—"
"Let them," I growled against her, the vibration making her moan. “I don’t fucking care. I need this pussy right now.”
I alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of my tongue, driving her higher and higher until she was trembling on the table.
Her taste flooded my mouth, sweet like her chocolate martini, musky with arousal, purely and utterly Isla.
I slipped two fingers back inside her while sucking hard on her clit, and she came with a muffled moan, covering her mouth with a hand.
Her walls spasmed around my fingers as I worked her through the orgasm, not stopping until she was sated and shaking.
Standing up, I smoothed her dress back down and pulled her in, catching her as her knees buckled.
Her eyes were glazed with satisfaction and alcohol, her lips swollen from biting back screams.
"You're insane," she whispered, smiling all satisfied, her hands fisting in my shirt to pull me closer.
"You love it," I replied, pressing a lingering kiss to her mouth so she could taste herself on my lips.
From across the room, I caught Connor's eye. He nodded once in approval, while Jax raised his glass in a silent toast.
Sierra and Estelle were pointedly not looking in our direction, though their flushed cheeks suggested they'd seen enough to get the general idea.
My family. My beautiful, twisted, absolutely perfect family .
"Come on, angel," I said, wrapping my arm around Isla's waist to keep her steady. "Let's get you some water before you pass out on me."
As we made our way back toward the bar, I caught more than a few envious looks from other men in the club.
Good. They’d see what they could never have, what belonged to me and me alone.
The night was young, and I had plans that involved getting my very satisfied, very tipsy girlfriend home where I could worship her properly.
But first, I wanted to celebrate a little longer with my brothers, watching our women laugh and bond and remind me every day why I'd burned down my old life to build something better.
Something that started with a blonde angel in a dress and ended with forever.