Page 61 of Her Nightshade

I marched over, letting my feet hit the ground hard, knowing what this kind of walk did to men. My breasts bounced, my hips swayed, and I instantly drew Trevor’s attention. He looked up,a grin widening when he saw me. “Ana,” he said with a hint of smugness. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I smiled, tilting my head. “Just checking in with everyone who’s important.”

Trevor chuckled, clearly eating it up. “You’re too kind,” he said, leaning against the wall. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, running my fingers lightly over the strap of his guitar. “Maybe you can tell me how you make it all look so effortless, playing this. It’s impressive, really.”

Trevor’s grin widened and he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime.”

I laughed softly, but before I could respond, I felt it—Charlie’s gaze from across the room. I glanced over, meeting his eyes. His jaw was clenched, his smile gone, replaced by a look that was dark and unmistakably jealous.

It didn’t take long. He strode towards us, his energy radiating pure anger and frustration. Without a word, he grabbed my arm—rough, firm, enough to make a point.

“Excuse us,” Charlie said coldly to Trevor.

Charlie guided us into the backstage area, down the hall, and into his dressing room. The door slammed shut behind us, the energy from the venue fading into the background.

“What the hell was that?” Charlie demanded sharply.

I put my hand on my hip, glaring at him. “What waswhat?”

“Don’t fucking do that, Ana,” he snapped. “Flirting with Trevor? Really?”

I scoffed. “Oh, you mean the way you were flirting with that woman? Laughing at everything she said, letting her touch you like she had any right to?”

His brows furrowed, confusion crossing his face before he slightly raised his voice. “I wasn’t flirting, and you know it.”

“And I wasn’t either.” I shot back, my tone mocking.

His jaw clenched and he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. “What are youdoing?”

I closed the distance between us. “What am I doing? What areyoudoing? Standing there like some cluelessidiotawhile another woman throws herself at you. Did you even notice me watching? Or were you too busy enjoying the attention?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering with frustration. “I didn’t enjoy it,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I only care about you,mi diosa.” He was turning into the needy, desperate Charlie that I knew so well.

“Do you?” I whispered, stepping even closer until our bodies nearly touched. “Because right now, it doesn’t feel like it.”

I grabbed the front of his shirt, shoving him back against the wall. He let out a small gasp, his hands instinctively gripping my hips, but I slapped them away. “No,” I said firmly. “You don’t get to touch me. Not until I say so.”

His eyes widened, his breathing uneven. “Ana—”

“Cállate,” I snapped, my hand sliding down his chest to the waist of his jeans. “You need to remember your place. Do you know what that is, Charlie?”

He shook his head slightly, his lips parting as he struggled for words.

I smirked, my fingers grazing his hard cock beneath his jeans. “Your place is wherever I tell you to be. And right now, it’s beneath me. ¿Entiendes? Do you understand?”

“Yes,mi diosa” he whispered, his eyes blazing with desire.

I tugged his jeans open. “Good boy. You’re so eager, aren’t you? So desperate to prove yourself.”

His groan was low and rough, his head falling back against the wall as I gripped his cock firmly. “You’re pathetic,” I murmured, my lips brushing his ear. “But at least you know who you belong to.”

“I belong to you,” he rasped, his body trembling beneath my touch.

“Es cierto,” I said, pushing him down onto the couch beside the wall. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

His desperation fueled my control. I peeled off my jeans and underwear and straddled him, sliding onto his hard cock with a sharp gasp as goosebumps pricked my skin. His hands instinctively reached for my thighs but I grabbed his wrists, pulling them away and pressing his arms firmly to his sides.

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