Chapter 5 #2
Elizabeth is wearing a black dress, judging by how much of her legs are on display, it’s short, but the sleeves are long, and the neck is high.
Her legs are crossed in the direction of the man talking to her, his hands inching towards them, wanting to touch her porcelain skin.
I don’t fucking blame him, but if he does, well, I hope he’s not too attached to his hands.
My own hands are balled into fists, and I have to remind myself I’m not here to make a scene. I take a breath and make my way over.
Elizabeth
I’m in my usual spot at Platinum, camped at the bar where the staff know me.
I help the manager with their website and advertising copy to earn some extra cash, and as I’ve helped their profits so much, she said I can always come here and they’ll look after me.
The bar staff know to always serve me Soda that’s a good reason.”
“Nah, not good enough, try again.”
He places a soft kiss against the top of my cheek. Shit, I can’t think straight when he’s this close to me.
“We’re completely different.”
Even as I say it, I know it sounds weak, opposites attract and all.
“Are you saying you’ve got more in common with ‘Designer Suit Steve’ out there? Try again.”
He smirks, before kissing me on my other cheek.
“If the sex is terrible, it’s going to be awkward every time we see each other at the clubhouse.”
He chuckles. “Now I know you’re just making shit up; we both know that’s not how it’s gonna go down. Try again.”
He leans in and places a chaste kiss on my lips. I’m out of ideas, but I need to try…
“I hate you,” I say softly, looking up into his eyes.
As soon as it’s out there, I know it’s not the truth.
I might hate the way Donovan is scared of him, but can I really hate him for that when Donovan himself loves him?
And all this time he’s been making digs at me, calling me Princess Prude, but it came from a place of protecting Donovan, worried I was playing him. No… I don’t hate him.
Diablo is completely still, searching my face.
“I guess that’s a good enough reason,” he says, before pushing away from the door and stepping back.
I grab his shirt and pull him into a kiss.
It only takes him a moment to respond, his body pressing me against the door as he moves his thigh in between my legs.
My dress is short enough that I can feel the friction of his jeans through my underwear as I grind against him.
No matter how many times I’ve touched myself this week, I never felt fully satisfied, this is what I need.
He moans as I use his leg to get off, and one of his hands snakes its way behind my head, grabbing my hair and pulling it back, exposing my neck so he can kiss down and over my throat.
He finds that spot I love and bites down, my response even louder than it was in my apartment, his teeth mixed with my grinding is getting me so hot.
“Fuck, princess, you’re so fucking sexy.”
His voice adds to my pleasure, but something is still missing, I need more. I grab the hand that’s on my hip and move it down between my legs. He groans when he realizes what I’m doing.
“You sure, princess?”