Chapter 68 #3
Probably a pass. These pirates seemed to crave violence.
He didn’t get the chance to test his theory. The man huffed a cold chuckle and backed away from their alcove, disappearing into the haze of smoke and candlelight and writhing, glistening bodies.
Quentin expelled a breath of relief, relaxing against the bench.
Then went completely still as reality settled in.
His right hand was wrapped around Delaynie’s lower back, holding her to him with a firm but gentle grip. His left rested high on her bare thigh; the material of her gown slipped when she’d moved, exposing even more of that incredible skin.
What made his breath stall in his chest was the fact that she wasn’t pulling away.
Her fingers tightened around his shoulder, brushing over his collarbone. He tilted his chin up with a swallow, finding her blue eyes wide and on him.
“Do you… Do you want me to put you down?” Gods, he didn’t want to. But he hated the idea of making her uncomfortable more.
She was still for a long moment. He could practically see the wheels turning in her brilliant mind, could see her processing and weighing every outcome that could come from this.
He was bracing himself for her to say yes.
So, when she slowly, quietly, shook her head no, he thought for a moment he was hallucinating.
“I think,” Delaynie said, a little breathlessly, “that there’s only one way we make it out of this. And I really, really want to prove that pompous lord wrong.”
Quentin’s head spun. He forced himself to keep his breaths steady, to control the heat raging through his blood.
“Prove him wrong how, little wolf?” His voice was low and rough. Coconut and vanilla were burrowing into his bones, seeping into all his cracks and edges.
Her nails grazed his skin. That blush again stained the apples of her cheeks. She shifted in his lap, and gods if that didn’t do something to him.
“Maybe it’s the eshwa,” she whispered. “Maybe it’s the insanity of this place and everything we’ve been through that led us here. But I am on fire, Quentin. And I want you to help me put it out.”
He could relate to that feeling. He, too, felt like he was burning alive, but the scorching was intoxicating. Addictive. It was driving him mad.
Quentin slowly swept his thumb across the expanse of her thigh, her breath hitching again. He nodded. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he murmured.
She nodded, too. Her hand around the back of his neck slid up, grazing the base of his hairline. He couldn’t contain his shiver, the way goosebumps pebbled his flesh.
“Do you remember that game we played in the jungle?” she asked.
“Of course, I do.”
Delaynie bit her lip, and it took all of Quentin’s self-control to stay still. “When you asked me if I had—if I had ever been with a man.” Her blush crawled down her chest.
Oh. Oh.
“I don’t care about any of that,” he said. He was serious; it mattered little to him if she was experienced or not. She’d been raised in a political circus, closely guarded and protected since birth.
“I know.” She tilted her gaze down, almost shyly. “I guess what I’m saying is…I want to know more. I want to know what it’s like.” She paused, glancing at him through her thick lashes. “But I have just one rule.”
“What’s that?” Quentin honestly didn’t care what it was. His mind was so frazzled, he would bow at her feet and kiss the ground she walked on if she wanted.
Her small palm landed on his chest. He realized how much he’d leaned forward, like his body was being drawn to hers beyond his control. “No feelings,” she murmured huskily. “We stay friends. And no kissing.”
Quentin blinked. Well, that wasn’t ideal. But he understood why she asked.
He knew—as well as she did—all the reasons why they could never work as anything other than friends. And he was certainly not ready to risk that friendship over something like this insane party hosted by a half-mad pirate.
“Deal,” he said, giving her a small smirk. “No kissing. No feelings. Just friends, trying to survive.”
Delaynie nodded again. “Just friends,” she repeated, the sound nearly a squeak.
That sound shook something loose inside Quentin. Something feral and hungry and insatiable. Something that wanted to devour coconut and vanilla until it was all he could ever taste again.
He also was keenly aware of where they were. Of how too easily wandering eyes could drift their way.
Unfortunately for them, he had no intention of sharing this with anyone else.
He pushed back further into the bench, adjusting his grip over Delaynie’s hip so he could hold the material of her dress closed. The shift slid her down, placing her body more firmly on his lap.
Her eyes widened when her ass met the hard length of his cock. He swallowed the hiss that threatened to push past his teeth.
“No need to read into it,” he murmured, lips ghosting over her ear. He smiled when she shivered. “It’s just physical. Like you said, it doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m sure your body is responding the same way.”
“It is?”
Quentin chuckled. “Have you never touched yourself, little wolf?”
She shook her head.
Fucking gods, he was so fucked.
“You never talked to your mother or Mariah about these things?”
“I know what sex is, Quentin.”
“There’s that bite.” He smiled again. “But that’s good. Certainly a start. I think for now, we’ll start slow. How does that sound?”
Finally, she nodded.
He moved his thumb again on her thigh, relishing in her soft jump. “Perfect. So…can I touch you?”
Her grip in his hair tightened. “Yes,” she breathed out.
Thank fuck.
His hand slid slowly up her thigh, slipping under the silky fabric of her dress. He found the lacy outline of her underwear, savoring the gasp that slipped past her teeth.
“What color are these, little wolf?”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Black.”
He couldn’t silence his groan. “Absolutely perfect.” He lightly dragged his finger over her center, the delicate lace tantalizingly soft. “Even through them I can feel how wet you are. Do you want me to show you?”
Delaynie mewled softly and nodded again.
Quentin slipped a finger under the seam of the lace. Gods, for a moment he feared he would pass out. She was so warm and wet and soft, and he bet she tasted just as sweet—
“Quentin.” His name on her lips was a whine, a siren’s call that he couldn’t resist even if he wanted to.
He started slow, teasing and exploring her. She twisted in his arms, burying her face into the crook of his neck, squirming over his lap.
That friction against his aching cock, combined with the feel of her…
His grip on her hip tightened. “Try to stay still, little wolf. Or else you’re going to drive me mad.”
She froze. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It just feels…”
“I know.” He chuckled again. “Do you want more?”
Her head moved against his shoulder, but he wasn’t sure if it was a nod or a shake. “Words, little wolf. Give me your words.”
“Yes. Please. More.”
He slowly pushed a finger into her warm wetness. They groaned together, and she panted against him, clinging to him like he was all that held her to this earth.
“You feel like perfection, Delaynie,” he whispered into her hair. She mewled softly in answer, writhing on his lap.
He didn’t stop her this time. Instead, he grazed her clit with his thumb, mind splintering at the way she jolted in his grip.
“Oh, gods—”
“Let’s keep them out of this, shall we?”
He settled into a languid pace, like he had all the time in the world. Her breath hitched higher and higher, coming in short pants as she ground against his lap. He was so sensitive, the world so bright, he could fucking come just from this. Pleasure curled around the base of his spine.
Not yet. He wasn’t ready for this to end yet.
He pulled his fingers from her. She stilled, whining again, and he chuckled into her hair.
“I know, little wolf. I’ll give you what you want.” She leaned back from his chest, finding his gaze. Her eyes were blown wide, pupils nearly consuming all the blue, her face more flushed than he’d ever seen it.
Her lips parted when he lifted his hand—the one that had just been between her legs—to his lips.
Fuck, she tasted sweeter than even he’d imagined. He couldn’t allow himself to daydream about anything more, but he fucking prayed to all the gods that she would let him taste her for real one day.
Gripping her thighs, he twisted her in his lap. Her legs fell to either side of his hips, feet resting on his knees. Her chest brushed his, auburn hair draping around them like a curtain. He pressed her down against him, grinding her on his cock.
“I’ll make you come,” he said, “but I want you to feel what you do to me when I do.”
She was silent but braced her hands on his shoulders.
When she started to move on her own, he couldn’t suppress his groan. His head hit the wall behind him, eyes feathering with bliss.
He held her gaze as he slid a hand back to her center, slipping beneath the lace of her underwear. She shuddered, collapsing forward against his chest.
Her sweet wetness dripped over his hand as he worked her back to the brink. The world around them faded away. Forgotten was their mission, the pirates, this soiree. All he knew was her.
Pleasure coiled down his spine. Delaynie gasped, her body clenching around him.
When she shuddered apart, grinding down hard on his lap, he couldn’t hold on to his control any longer.
His release burned through him, tearing apart every carefully placed boundary he’d tried so desperately to maintain. He didn’t know how long it lasted, how long it was until the world settled back around them, panting in each other’s arms.
“Are you okay?”
Delaynie nodded against his chest, her breath still heavy. Quentin dragged his hand up her spine, relishing in all her smooth skin, in the way she shivered beneath his touch.
His gaze drifted over her shoulder, out into the room beyond.
Reality hit him like a battering ram when he met Varyn’s sharp stare. The pirate lord’s expression was unreadable, though the corners of his lips were pulled up into a smirk.
Despite the pleasure still curling through his veins, rage swelled in Quentin’s chest. Rage that something that should have been special for Delaynie was being turned into a sick sort of test. Rage at all of this. At all the games that man was making them play.
The worst part?
Quentin wasn’t sure if they’d won.