Page 90 of Sadistic

"Whatever." She waves her hand. "Point is, you're properly celebrated now."

"I need air," I announce, standing on slightly unsteady legs.

"Lightweight," Dalla teases.

I flip her off and head for one of the suite's many bathrooms, choosing the one farthest from the party.

I'm washing my hands when my phone rings.

"Still having fun?" Doran's voice is low, amused.

"Tons," I confirm, sitting on the closed toilet lid. "Your sister's insane."

"I'm aware. Tell me about the stripper who looks like me."

"Jealous?"

"Curious." There's an edge to his voice now, darker. "Did he touch you?"

"It was a lap dance. He was close to me."

"Where did he touch you?"

My thighs clench at his tone. "My shoulders. My hair. He... guided my hands to his chest."

"Did you like it?"

"It was fine."

"Fine?" He chuckles darkly. "Tell me, little wolf—are you wet right now?"

The question sends heat straight through me. "Doran?—"

"Answer me. Are you wet from him dancing for you?"

"No," I admit, pressing my thighs together. "I'm wet from you. From your voice."

"Good girl." His voice drops lower, pure sin through the phone. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom. The party's still going."

"Lock the door."

I do, my hands shaking slightly with excitement. "Done."

"What are you wearing?"

"A dress. Black. Short. Too short, according to Dalla."

"How short?"

"Mid-thigh."

"Perfect. Take off your panties."

"Doran—"

"Do it. Now."

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