Page 28 of Pain and Pleasure

"Can I get that drink you promised me, sir?" I whisper huskily to him.

His eyes darken as he licks his lips. I'm too busy being caught up in his gaze to see her eyes burning into us, but I can feel them as he leans forward and places a slow kiss on my lips.

"As you wish, princess," he murmurs against me and I smile against his mouth before he pulls away and leaves to grab me a drink from the bar, ignoring Isabella the entire time.

She flicks her hair over one of her slender shoulders as I lean back against my seat, smiling tightly at her.

"So, how's it feel so far to be thoroughly used?" she sneers at me. I keep the smile tight as I reply to her with a sweet tone.

"I'm not sure actually. You tell me." My fake smile doesn't even falter as I see literal steam rise from her chest and expel from her ears.

"You're no better than me, little girl. No matter how much you think you know him, you're nothing but a distraction. Just something to pass the time for now. You'll be nothing more than a quick clean up after a hot fuck when he's bored."

She hisses the words at me, but I don't miss a beat in my response. If she wants to attack me, so be it. But I fight with my brain and not my claws.

“See, that’s where you and I are different, Isabella,” I tell her sweetly, sipping my champagne as her eyes narrow on me.

“You were left to clean his orgasm off your skin, and I get to let it sit inside me while he holds me after.”

My comment clearly strikes a nerve because she’s sneering at me as soon as I say it. I see Dante approaching with my drink as I tear my eyes away from the bitch before me and spot Ricky talking to a man at the bar behind Dante. I smile at both of my men and feel a boost of confidence. This woman is bitter and alone with no support, there's no need to fight with her. She does that to herself every day.

"Thanks for stopping by, Isabella. Enjoy the rest of your night," I say, still not making eye contact with her as Dante slides back in the booth, setting a glass of bourbon in front of me.

I smile up at him and feel the absence of her presence, getting lost in the best of his touch as his hand returns to my thigh. I sip my bourbon quietly as he rubs me and the club thrives around us. He's really built an empire.

"I never thought dirty money could look so expensive," I say into his ear.

I pull back and stare at his small smirk, sipping my bourbon and feeling the warmth from it and my wine from earlier. I feel more and more brazen by the minute.

"It has to go somewhere, mi ciela. Though, I'd rather it be invested into something that can make me even more. I think you know how much I like money…" he says as his lips find my throat.

I moan as I sip more of my whiskey, feeling light and pliable in his touch.

"But I think you know what I crave most," he growls as his hand travels from my thigh to my silk coveted pussy.

I'm already wet from earlier and from his touches tonight, the silk damp against his fingers. He moans at the contact and my eyes close as his fingers slip past the silk of my panties and search for my clit. They land on it immediately and I look around for anybody watching us.

Both Sergio and Ricky are on the opposite side of the room and everyone else is busy watching the dancers on stage. I lock eyes with him as he starts to finger me gently under the table, the music from the speakers thumping in tune with the beat of my heart. I close my eyes and hold my head back, reveling in his touch.

"Look at me, Emmie."

My head snaps up and my eyes open to find him. He's staring at me, his expression intense. I'm a moth to his flame and my words are caught in my throat. He moves his finger from my clit and slips it inside of me, adding another finger with it and he stretches me in the middle of the club.

I shake on his hand and he keeps his eyes locked on me. It's so intense and I can't look anywhere but him.

"Say it," he orders me.

It takes me a minute to realize what he wants me to say, but I quickly pick up on his que as his free hand goes to my breast and then rests where my heart beats. He wants my admission. He wants my declaration of love. He wants what I'm not ready to give him.

"No. Not here," I whisper to him. He plunged his fingers in and out of me a few more times, my head tilting back in rapture. And. Then. He. Just. Stops.

He pulls his hand from my panties, licking his fingers before sipping his own glass of bourbon.

"Don't punish me, Dante. I've done nothing wrong," I say bitterly to him, feeling annoyed from both the loss of his touch and the force of his wish.

He shrugs at me, seeming impassive as he scans the crowd.

"Why am I here anyway?" I ask with impatience. He looks back at me and smirks, obviously amused by my annoyance.

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