Chapter 6 #2
My body moved as commanded. For a moment, the visibility of being in front of a crowd with him, the eyes of everyone around us seemingly locked on him and possibly me too for being with a Chimera, left me almost stationary in place.
Then, as his eyes darkened with heat, and his heat dipped to crowd me on the fast filling dance floor, my hips began to sway in his hold.
I tipped my shoulders back, my eyes drifting shut.
And in the space he made for us, the club with its darkened spaces and caffeine eating into my veins, I danced, as promised.
Just for him.
Valentine never grabbed me or crushed me against him, his hands grazing over my dress with the utmost respect in his touch.
My nipples ached and pebbled as tight as the beads on my dress when he stroked the undersides of my breasts that grew heavy when he did nothing more.
His breath brushed my lips, and I opened my mouth, willing him to kiss me as my body curled and undulated, moving in a rhythm designed, I swore, just for him.
“Cora,” he rasped, close enough, low enough, for me to hear.
My eyes cracked open to find him arched over me, hands closed so freaking lightly around my waist. Hands that could crush me, bruise me, if he so chose.
But he didn’t.
Heath Valentine was all about control over violence, and his touch, or lack of it, was—
Electric.
The tip of his tongue stroked my bottom lip, wet and hot. I moaned, my mouth open and begging for more of his touch. Hell, I’d come for him in Coach’s office with my legs wide open, touched myself and come for him on video that he’d watched live and he hadn't even kissed me properly yet.
The thought left me hotter than ever. Heat gushed between my thighs, slicking me even though he barely touched me now.
His tongue stroked my lip in a parody of what else I needed from him, but when I rose up desperately on my toes he just laughed at me and drew back the same amount, making me chase him.
“Asshole,” I mouthed through a blast of music that was more bass and beat than anything else.
Those dark eyes glittered at me. “Dance, Cora.”
I whimpered, pressing against him, grinding helplessly, but it was a one way event. He watched me, as promised, and I knew he liked what he saw because his erection protruded against my belly.
Taking the risk, I rose up onto my toes in my heels again, tilting my head back. “Please,” I begged, knowing he could hear me. Probably he couldn't see me, either, as the strobe flashed incessantly, leaving us as nothing more than a series of frozen snapshots in the dark.
His mouth met mine in the barest connection.
I closed my eyes, relieved, even though it wasn’t the kiss I needed.
Not yet but I knew we would get there. I teased the tip of his tongue with mine, but that was all he would give me, tiny touches, light caresses.
It was nowhere near enough but that seemed to be his intent, to drive us both mad with need.
Fuck, from the way my thighs slicked, how I pressed my legs together and rubbed against him until he gently held me back with a warning look, it was well and truly fucking well working.
The song ended and I stood before him, panting and filled with the sort of flush that no amount of recirculated nightclub air could fix.
Apparently, Valentine felt the same way.
His hand closed around mine firmly, he drew me through the crowd in longer strides than before.
I took two steps to each one of his to keep up as he headed for the door.
I looked over my shoulder, seeking the journalist party, then decided I didn’t care.
It wasn’t like I was with them, anyway. Someone called my name, or I thought they did.
Valentine’s hand tightened on mine, his grip warm and firm.
I raised a hand over my head in what I hoped wasn’t too much of a faux pas farewell, and breathed in crisp night air that slapped me in the face.
The caffeine hit had been nice earlier but the chill air sobered me out of my lust induced haze…
for about a second as Valentine led me around a corner that backed onto a half filled parking lot. He wheeled about to face me.
Unslaked need blazed in his face as he closed the short distance between us.
What I'd thought before had been all wrong.
His hands closed on my waist, squeezing me tightly as he dipped his head and claim my mouth in a fierce kiss that left me breathless and in no doubt that I was well and truly fucked.
Or at least I was about to be, Chimera style.
“Heath,” I whispered then faltered, unable to finish my thought as he stared down at me.
“You wanna go back inside with your friends, Cora,” he murmured. “Be my guest.” His touch dropped away, leaving cold patches on my sides where warmth had bloomed a moment before.
I shook my head, aching to inch forward, but could only lean into his space. My feet were locked into place between shards of broken glass and gravel beneath my heels.
Valentine’s breaths were even as he watched me. “You should go home.”
“No.” I shook my head, adamant. “Why bring me out here if all you wanted was to tell me what to do?”
The corner of his mouth quirked in his rare version of a smile. “I thought you liked it when I told you what to do.”
Suddenly I was the one panting as my vision blurred. Damnit I hated being out of control, and I hated that I wanted to run from him like I had in the office corridor. But for some stupid, really stupid fucking reason, I needed to stay and duke this one out with him.
Here, tonight.
“You should run.” He turned his back to me, one measured step away, and then another, heading for the black on black bike that I knew was his.
And suddenly I understood what his version of control meant. That it mirrored my panic and that him telling me to run didn't mean that at all.
At least, not tonight.
“No.” I strode after him, around him and planted a hand firmly on his chest.
The corner of his mouth flickered again. “Reckless, Cora.”
He gave me one breath—just one—before his hands closed on my waist again. Then I was airborne as he lifted me onto his bike and laid me back across the seat, looming over me. My breath hitched and I slapped at his chest.
“No.”
Valentine froze.
Inch by inch he eased back, though his hands remained on my body. “Be clear, Cora. Right now with me.”
I nodded, tossing my hair over my shoulder. The wide curls mussed and fell out but I didn't care as I knelt up on the bike seat. I wobbled, the machine wobbled but his hands were on me and I knew he wouldn’t let me fall. That was the level of trust we had.
“You. Here.” I pointed to the seat he’d planted me on.
Two eyebrows rose, but he said nothing else as he picked me up and swung me across his lap. I fought that, too, using his momentum to straddle him the moment his denim clad behind hit the leather seat.
“Better.” I nodded, letting my thighs slide over his, reveling in the rough sensation of his jeans against my skin, the heat of his body permeating through the material.
I leaned forward, resting my hands on his shirt and stared straight into his eyes.
This way, we were at the same level. “So much better.”
“Fuck, you are a little brat, aren’t you?” He squeezed me again, leaning forward to run his nose along mine, inhaling gently.
Then his mouth slammed over mine in a hard kiss, his tongue forcing its way inside. I cried out into his mouth, knowing I flooded his jeans as I rubbed myself against him. Heat overwhelmed me as I got everything I wanted in one. His hands roamed my body roughly.
Beads from my dress pinged off his bike and scattered across the parking lot in tiny shards of shattered frost and reflected ice. I moaned as he pulled my skirt up, baring my thighs.
One hand dipped beneath the curve of my ass, squeezed my thighs hard enough to leave red marks. And other sorts of marks. I moaned at the sensation, undulating to the rhythm he set, his feet planted firmly either side of the bike.
“Fuck, Cora. You're perfect. A handful each side, and—” He broke off, cursing fluently as he reached between my legs and stroked my bare cunt, coming up with fingertips full of wetness. “Christ, butterfly. You’re dripping all over my jeans. I hope you’ll clean that with your tongue later.”
I whimpered against his mouth as he claimed me again, his kisses changing to something more possessive, deeper and slower.
I reached between us, palming his cock through his jeans and toyed with the zip he strained against, until he was free in my hand.
Thick and long, I wondered for a moment if I hadn't bitten off more than I could take.
I closed my hands around his heavy length, the velvet feel of him an absolute luxury.
One glance at his face told me we’d make it work.
“Control it yourself,” he murmured as he helped me lift over him, notching himself at my entrance. “Take only how much you want, Cora.”
I rubbed the head of his cock against my wetness, getting us both messy.
Valentine bit back a groan as I dropped over him, taking as much as I could in a single thrust before I pushed up again.
The burn and stretch was perfect. My thighs strained but he helped, lifting me to the crown of him, then letting me control the slow glide back down, but only as far as I wanted to go. So full, but I needed more. All of him.
Bracing my weight against his shoulders, I panted after only a few thrusts. “I- I can’t–”
“You will,” he promised, his eyes as black as night as he lifted me. “Again, Cora. Milk me with that hot, soaking little cunt until I mark you inside as mine.”