Page 26 of Enslaved

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I’M A RUTHLESS BASTARD. I’ll stop at nothing to taste her sweet submission to my every desire. Tonight, will be my little dove’s first lesson. A taste of the mind games I’m so good at playing.

“You look beautiful,glykiá mou.” The compliment fell effortlessly from my lips as I smiled at my date, Tara, for the evening. She’s stick-thin and only sipped water while she pushed her food around her plate. I paid the bill then asked her if she wanted to go dancing. And I knew just the disco to go to tonight.

“Oh Christos,” she breathed, batting her eyes at me. “It’s so sexy when you speak Greek. What did you say?”

“It means sweetheart.”

Her hand rested possessively on my arm as she tilted her head up for a kiss. I indulged her, devouring her lips, and slipped my hand inside the back of her open dress to tease the sides of her bare breasts while watching Jessie’s reaction from the other side of the club.

She’s with him but watching me. Just like I knew she would. Tara moaned, pressing herself closer. The disco was packed. Couples flirted, straining against one another on the crowded dance floor. It was after midnight and the lighting was dim. I was sure more than one pair was having actual sex in a few of the even darker corners. My eyes caught Jessie’s in the lights reflecting off the disco ball hanging from a rafter.

She’s curious. I can read her every emotion that flits across her face like words on a page. She’s not sure if she’s curious or jealous, then she decided it might be both.

My tongue raced along the edge of Tara’s ear; chills went through her as she snuggled closer.

“Christos…,” she panted, tipping her face back, her eyes an open invitation to take whatever I wanted. But I only wanted to use her in my game to make another woman pant my name. How sweet it was going to be…to hear Jessie moan it in need.

I maneuvered Tara to the corner of the dance floor, pushed her back up against the wall, hooked her leg around my waist and let my hands slide her dress up. Her head fell back as my teeth scraped down the side of her neck. I knew Jessie was watching us and it made me burn. I was touching one woman while thinking of another. Tara’s hands ran through my hair then down my back.

She didn’t have permission to touch me. Jessie might not have said the words, but I knew I was her DOM. Only hers to touch if I was to grant her permission. With one hand, I pinned both of Tara’s behind her head on the wall. Her lips sought mine, but I evaded her mouth by sucking on her collarbone, while my fingers slipped between her legs. She was soaked, panting my name as I rubbed her folds, pinched her clit, and worked three fingers inside. The tips of my fingers curled up, finding the bundle of nerves on her inner wall. “Beg me. Beg me to make you come, Tara.”

“Yes, Christos,” she moaned.

“You like,agápe mou? To be thrown up against the wall, letting a man touch you like this…in the middle of a club?”

“Yes. Christos. Please,” she begged, “it’s so hot when you speak Greek.” I pulled out, made a knuckle, and started to fist her. Then turned my head as Tara convulsed in a sweaty panting mess. My eyes met Jessie’s across the crowded dance floor. The world fell away.

It was just the two of us.

I gave her a smirk, my eyes holding hers, not letting her turn her gaze from mine. I knew I was close to having her in my bed. My little dove as curious, needy and jealous as hell. With a smirk, I drew back from Tara, took her hand and escorted her from the club. She followed me on jelly legs, apparently thinking I would take her back to my yacht and finish what I started. But I had no intentions of doing anything but send her off in a cab while I waited for my little dove to stop pretending she wanted another man.

“Christos?” Tara hesitated as it became clear I wouldn’t be sliding into the backseat next to her.

“Another time,” I murmured shutting the door on her stunned face. I strolled along the docks with one hand in my pocket, lit up my cigar and waited for Jessie to leave the club. I reclined on a park bench, exhaling the sweet tobacco in rings, knowing she was inside picturing all the ways I was making Tara come in my stateroom.

I knew it would distract Jessie from my deckhand; make her wish she was back on the boat to find out if I was doing all the things that were racing through her mind.

But I only wanted to do those things with one person…her.

I felt sick.

Something was wrong.

I couldn’t look away from Christos as he touched that woman. But I found myself watching her as much as him. Her mouth was parted, eyes shut in ecstasy as I watched his hand disappear beneath her dress.

For a split-second—I wanted to be her. I wanted his hands on me, his mouth on my skin and his hands sliding between my thighs.

My head snapped back as he caught me watching. My breath caught in my throat, the man shined like the sun when he smiled. Although, it was more of a smirk than a smile; the silent message he sent was crystal clear: it could be you, Jessie. She could be…you.

And I wanted it. Wanted it so badly that when I finally came to after he left, leading her through the crowd, my nails left crescents in my palm, my hands were clenched so tight.

“Here, drink this,” Andre, handed me a shot. I threw back my head, tossing it back as if I was a club girl and did that on the regular when truthfully, I barely drank. Maybe I am a stick in the mud…a boring girl who acts more like eighty-three than twenty-three. “El Diablo huh?”

“What?”

“I called your name three times.”

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