Page 72 of H E R

The room is cooler than the heated hall and the music is unrecognizable but sultry. Like something you’d hear on a tantra, erotic album.

I skim the bar surface and frown. Normally, clients purchase a bottle of something and leave it for dancers to sip from. Instead, there’s a glass canister of water and a matching cup next to it. I clear my throat and avoid looking at the man covered in shadows below the steps, sitting comfortably on a single leather couch. His hands rest on the armchairs and he waits motionless.

The room is darker than I expected; the only lights come from the soft red glow of the decorative staircase lighting. Most of the light shines on the small stage where two black metal poles stand. I walk slowly behind the bar and open the fridge and pull out a bottle of Patron. I pop it open and fill the glass cup next to the water canister and smile into the darkness.

No one tells me what to drink. I’ll sip whatever the fuck I want, and at the moment, I don’t want water. I set the glass down and walk around the top until it leads me to a decline in the carpeted ground and onto the round podium-like stage.

A glimmer catches my eye, and I sneak a glance at the mystery man. He wears a silver wolf mask, complete with fangs and carved to look realistic and intimidating. It has a smoke colored finish with blackened markings so it appears textured andso fucking real. Darkness stares back at me through the carved out eyeholes, turned down in a glaring stare. It only covers half of his face, but I can’t see anything else. Only the lights that reflects off the metal wolf mask.

A shiver runs up my spine and sputters my body into a short quake.Contrólate.

I start my movements slow and try to pace them to the music. I use one of the poles for support and bend and shimmy seductively. The chains over my ribs glide and roll, tickling my sensitive flesh.

Jasmin convinced me to keep on the black pumps—she’d said the added length they gave me was hot and that my ass would thank me. But all I want to do is chuck them across the fucking room. My hips feel the burn as I sway them slowly, enticing the stranger.

Ten minutes later, and I need another drink. With this in mind, I walk as best I can, attempting to look sensual, and hop onto the bar. I take off the shoes and drop them to the floor. My poor feet ache, but I ignore the need to rub them and reach for the bottle and take one long swig. The stinging meets my throat in a soothing burn that melts awaythe nausea creeping below my nerves. I tuck it away and lower my back and arch my spine. Wolf man wants a show, and he’s going to get one.

I sit up and tuck my legs under my ass. Water seems like a good idea, so I reach for the canister and drench my face with it. The liquid cascades down my breasts, past my thighs, and collects near my shins. I perch onto my knees and set the glass canister down, then take a look at the man who’s shifted in his seat. He’s leaning back with one hand tucked under his chin.

I think he’s smiling, and the contents in my stomach threaten to climb up and out. His smile turns the water on my skin to ice, and I sit on my heels and cover my mouth. Why the fuck did I spill the entire contents on me? Now I have nothing but tequila to drink.Shit!

The shape of his mouth turning upwards causes a delicious wetness to gather at my center. A frightening gnaw eats at the edges of the hole that lives where my heart used to beat. An electrifying buzz bangs there instead and fuels me to hop off the bar and saunter back to the pole.

The man’s eyes don’t leave me, and his masked face follows my every move. I grip the pole and give him my best moves, swaying in perfect unison to the music. Something weaves between us, a thick thread spinning to the beat of our hearts. Warping the air and spinning out, tangling itself and uniting us somehow. I can’t explain it, I can onlyfeelit. And like a fucking lightbulb being flipped on, I know exactly who the mystery wolf man is.

As if he’s guessed this, he reaches up and pulls back his mask.

Dylan.

I grin my big toothy smile and toss my head back, a laugh escaping me.

I don’t stop dancing and swivel slowly down to bob my hips. My chest moves like it would underwater. I hang on to the black metal pole and use it as leverage to keep me steady while I continue to move up and down. I flip my hair and almost laugh again when I catch Dylan’s jaw tightening. His perfectly chiseled face reveals nothing, but I can sense his hunger for me burning through his coal-colored eyes.

He pats his leg for me to approach, and when I stand to climb down the first step, he raises his hand, halting me.

Dylan shakes a finger at me. “Crawl to me, little fox.”

The command in his voice melts my bones and brings me to my knees. I never even decided to follow the order in his words, but my body is compliant to him in ways I still don’t know or understand.

He pats his leg again, and I slither toward him slowly, the plush carpet soft against my knees and palms. I stop before him on all fours, my core buzzing with anticipation. I swallow, the need to throw myself at him has my limbs trembling. When I look up to his perfect face, the blackness of his eyes consumes me, and I rise up and sit on my heels, waiting for his instructions.

He unzips his pants, and I lick my lips when he suddenly stands up and his hard cock springs out. It’s like seeing it for the first time, the sheer size of it, covered in veins and already wet at the tip, and I bite my lip in response to it all.

I open my mouth and move toward his hips when he lifts a finger to stop me. He makes a low tsk sound and my lower lip sticks out in a pout. He chuckles and reaches for it, pinching my lips between his fingers.

He parts my lips with his thumb and grazes my bottom teeth. “This isn’t going to be soft and slow, Niki. I’m going to fuck your pretty mouth until I spill the contents of my balls into your throat. And you’ll swallow every drop.”

I’m salivating, and I close my lips around his thumb and bite down. “You promise?”

There is no warning. Like a rabid animal, Dylan squeezes my jaw and lets out a low growl while he thrusts his cock into my mouth.

My eyes water at the sudden intrusion and I stretch my mouth wider. While I concentrate on breathing through my nose, the forceful thrusts of his hips push me back, and I spread my knees and angle them for better support. I grip his thighs for leverage and blink back the tears that have collected in the corner of my eyes. The plush rug burns my knees, and I want to smile, but my lips are already pushed back taut. Dylan groans deeply while he pounds my face, pushing deeper and deeper. He isn’t holding back; instead, he shoves himself into my mouth and swivels his hips, thrusting like a mad man.

Saliva gathers on the corners of my lips and leaks out, coating him and causing delicious sounds that have both him and me trembling. I think he’s expecting me to gag, which I’ll gladly do if that’s what he wants. But I don’t and it seems to fuel him. The mask is slick on my cheeks and uncomfortable over my nose, but I ignore it.

Dylan grips the back of my neck and looks down, his eyes ablaze with desire. His free hand smooths my hair back and then he twines his fingers and yanks my head back, tugging at the strands and gripping tightly to hold my face steady.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

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