Chapter 85 - Danica
Danica
I'm so freaking high on Rhyland's blood and venom right now I can barely keep my arousal at bay. My mind is a hazy, lust-filled blur, my body thrumming with need and desire.
So, here we are, in some fancy-ass exhibition club where public fucking is just par for the course. Our table is up on the upper level, which sounds great in theory, but in reality, it's like we're goddamn goldfish in a bowl, on full display for all the perverts below.
They're not even batting an eye at the live porn show Rhyland and I are putting on. It's just another day at the office for them, another couple of exhibitionists getting their rocks off in public.
But for me? It's a whole new level of fucked up and filthy, and I am here for it.
I lick my swollen lips, savoring the musky, sweet, and salty taste of Rhyland's arousal.
It's a flavor I'll never tire of, a reminder of how he came down my throat, hot and hard and pulsing with pleasure.
And the knowledge that we had an audience?
That strangers were watching our little pornographic performance?
Well, let's just say it adds a whole new level of 'hot damn' to the proceedings.
My eyes dart around the room, a shiver of excitement racing down my spine as I feel the weight of countless gazes upon me.
It's like being caressed by invisible hands, each pair of eyes leaving a trail of heat on my skin.
The air feels thick with desire, charged with an electric current of lust and anticipation.
But before I can fully bask in the intoxicating attention, Rhyland's strong hands are on me, pulling me up with an urgency that steals my breath.
His lips crash against mine with a ferocity that makes my knees weak.
It's not just a kiss—it's a claiming, a marking, a declaration to everyone watching that I am his and his alone.
He thrusts his tongue into my mouth, chasing the taste of himself, and I moan shamelessly, melting into his embrace. His hands are everywhere, gripping my hips, snaking up my ribcage until they find my aching, swollen breasts.
The taste of him—dark, rich, and sinfully delicious—floods my senses, drowning out everything else.
At this moment, with Rhyland's arms around me and the heat of strangers' gazes on my skin, I feel more alive than ever.
It's dangerous, thrilling, and utterly intoxicating.
As Rhyland's hands roam my body, leaving fire trails in their wake, I know this is just the beginning of a night that will push us both to our limits and beyond.
I groan as he kneads the sensitive flesh, my nipples hardening into tight, desperate peaks.
I never thought Rhyland would be okay with this, with letting anyone else see me naked or pleasuring him.
But I can feel it through our bond, the way he's pushing past his discomfort, his possessive instincts, all for me. For my fantasy.
And hell, if that doesn't make me love him even more.
I pour everything I'm feeling into our bond, letting him feel the depth of my desire, the intensity of my need.
I show him how much this turns me on, how much I crave his touch, taste, and everything.
And how, no matter who else might be watching, no one in this world or any other will ever compare to the man who holds my heart.
The man who gives me the most mind-blowing orgasms and is currently devouring my mouth like a starved animal.
When I teased the waiter earlier, I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew I was pushing Rhyland to the brink, testing the limits of his control. But even still, his reaction scared me as much as it aroused me.
To know I can still get under his skin and drive him to the edge of madness with an innocent flirt. It's a heady, intoxicating feeling. And the way he's so fiercely protective of me, so unapologetically possessive? It's like a drug, and I'm a hopeless fucking addict.
He's going to make me pay for my little stunt, and I'm going to love every damn second of it.
Because this man, this beautiful, infuriating, dominant Viking vampire? He's mine. And I'm his.
Rhyland wastes no time, lifting me onto the table like I weigh nothing. I'm at the perfect height now, my pussy lined up with his hungry gaze as he sits on the bench in front of me. He pushes my dress up slowly, teasingly, before spreading my legs wide and exposing me to the room.
My eyes dart around once more, my pulse racing. And sure enough, we've still got quite the captive audience. It's like we're the main attraction at some high-end, adults-only circus, and everyone's got front-row seats to the show.
One guy in particular catches my attention, and holy hell, talk about multitasking.
He's got his cock buried so deep in some girl's throat.
I'm half convinced she's going to need a breathing apparatus.
But despite his, uh, current engagement, his eyes are locked on me with an intensity that could melt steel.
I feel a flush creeping up my neck, my skin prickling with heat under the weight of his stare.
"Eyes on me, baby."
I quickly look away and focus on Rhyland as he reaches for the glass beside me, plucking an ice cube from its depths with a wicked glint in his eye. I watch, my breath catching in my throat, as he slowly drags the frozen cube up my inner thigh, leaving a trail of icy fire in its wake.
I flinch at the sudden chill, a gasp escaping my lips as goosebumps erupt across my sensitive skin, my nipples pebbling painfully.
Before I can even process the sensation, Rhyland's hot tongue is there, lapping at the moisture left behind, chasing away the cold with the searing heat of his mouth, his beard tickling my inner thigh in the most intoxicating way.
I moan, my head falling back as he works his way higher, his tongue tracing intricate patterns on my trembling flesh. He repeats the process on my other thigh, the contrast of hot and cold sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through my veins.
I feel his blood coursing through me, heating me from the inside out until I'm a writhing, panting mess of need and desire.
The taste of his blood—spicy and sweet, cinnamon and chocolate, and I can see why their blood is so addicting—an aphrodisiac.
My pussy aches, empty and clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.
My nipples are so hard, pebbled peaks begging for his touch, his mouth, his teeth.
And the need to come, to finally find release after hours of teasing and denial, is so strong that I can barely breathe. I'm on the edge of something huge, something earth-shattering, my body wound tighter than a bowstring.
Rhyland pulls away, his mouth leaving my skin with a final, teasing lick.
I whimper, my hips bucking up off the table in a desperate search for friction, for anything to ease the ache between my thighs. Rhyland chuckles, his Nordic-blue eyes dark with the promise. He places the ice cube back into the glass.
Rhyland pulls my lacy underwear to the side, baring my aching, needy pussy to his gaze, and everything else fades away.
Yes, fucking finally!
"Look at me, baby," he commands, his voice low and rough with desire. My eyes snap to his, getting lost in the swirling depths of blue, the love and arousal I see there stealing the breath from my lungs. "Watch me while I devour what's mine."
God yes!
And then his head is between my thighs, his tongue flicking out to taste me, and holy fuck, I nearly come on the spot. I'm so sensitive from all the edging, so desperate for release, that even the slightest touch is almost too much to bear.
Rhyland doesn't stop, doesn't slow down. He pushes me back onto the table, the white tablecloth cool against my overheated skin as I lean back on my elbows, giving him better access to my dripping core.
He spreads me wide, his fingers digging into my thighs as he holds me open for his hungry mouth. His tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking and flicking over my clit in a relentless assault of pleasure that has me seeing stars.
I tangle my fingers in his hair, holding him in place as I grind against his face, chasing the release that's been denied to me for so fucking long. I'm so close, so goddamn close, my nipples pebble and aching, my pussy clenching around nothing as I teeter on the brink.
I risk another peek behind me, my heart skipping a beat as I realize that we're still being watched, that all those hungry eyes are devouring the sight of Rhyland eating me out like I'm his favorite meal.
"Fuck, Rhyland," I pant, my voice high and breathy with need. "I'm gonna come, baby. Don't stop."
Of course, because he's a sadistic bastard who lives to torment me, that's precisely what he does. He pulls back, leaving me empty and aching, as I let out a frustrated whine.
"Hold that thought, Angel," he says with a wicked grin, his lips and beard glistening with my juices. "We're just getting started."
I want to scream, to punch him, to tackle him to the ground and ride his cock until I finally get the release I so desperately need. But I know that's exactly what he wants, what he's been waiting for all night.
"You're an asshole, Rhyland," I snarl, with equal parts fury and desire. "But if you think I'm going to beg for you, you've got another thing coming. I am done with your games tonight."
Rhyland's grin is pure sin, his eyes glittering with a dark promise as he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.
"Oh, I don't think, baby," he purrs, his fingers skating up my thighs, making me shake with need.
"I know. By the time I'm done with you tonight, you'll be begging me for mercy, screaming my name so loud they'll hear you in Valhalla. "
I shiver at the promise in his words, my body already aching for his touch, for the sweet torture I know he has in store.
Rhyland pulls my dress back down, covering my exposed flesh from the hungry gazes of the room.
I catch a flash of anger in his eyes, a possessive fury that sends a thrill down my spine before he slips his mask of cool indifference back into place. He's trying to play it off like he's unfazed, but I know better. The thought of all these people seeing me, wanting me, is driving him crazy.
And I'd be lying if I said I didn't love every second of it.
Before I can dwell on that thought for too long, the gentleman from earlier appears at our table, a knowing smirk on his face. "Right this way, sir," he says, gesturing for us to follow him.
I frown in confusion as Rhyland helps me to my feet, his hand possessive on the small of my back.
Where the hell are we going now?
As we approach the back of the building, down a long hallway lined with glass panels, I start to get an idea. People are crowded around each panel, their faces pressed against the glass as they gawk at whatever's inside.
And when I finally see for myself, my jaw nearly hits the floor.
In one room, two men are going at it like animals, one slamming his cock into the other's ass while he begs for more, harder, faster. In the next, a woman is tied up with intricate rope work. Her body is contorted into a beautiful, erotic sculpture as her partner fucks her from behind.
And in the last room, a woman straddles a blindfolded man, riding his cock with wild abandon as the onlookers press their faces against the glass, their breath fogging up the surface with each panting gasp.
It's like something out of a goddamn porno, a live sex show put on for the viewing pleasure of anyone with a pulse and a pervy streak.
And as much as the rational part of my brain is screaming at me to run, to get the hell out of this den of sex and sin, I can't deny the thrill of excitement that runs through me at the thought of being watched, of putting on a show of my own.
Rhyland must sense my thoughts through our bond because he leans close, his lips brushing against my ear as he speaks from behind me as I stare at the woman grinding on the man's cock. "Still think you won't beg, Angel?" he murmurs, his voice low and rough with promise. "We'll see about that."
With that, he takes my hand and leads me to an empty room at the end of the hall. The glass walls offer an unobstructed view of the plush, king-sized bed—a kinky wonderland of cuffs, whips, chains, and Fifty Shades of "Oh My!"
Oh, fuck. What have I gotten myself into?