Page 34 of Paramour of Sin
Victory.
I sashayed away from him, putting a seductive swing into my hips even as I navigated through the thick, undulating crowd of partiers. I didn’t need to turn around and check to know he was following me.
The image of Zane with his hips pumping into the blonde haunted me all the way off the dance floor. He was priming her for a quick fuck, the way he’d been priming me to do what I’d come here to do. I was nothing more than she was to him, and the reminder stung.
At least feeding from this jackhole wouldn’t be hard. I’d totally lost my mood. Again. Which meant I wouldn’t overindulge.
I led him to a dark corner still within view of the dance floor, then backed into the shadows and crooked my finger at him. But my gaze shifted past him to the dance floor, and the play of light on Zane’s thick dark hair. It was longer, reaching his chin in some places, but angled out of his face. The kind of hair a woman longed to run her fingers through, which his dance partner did now, making him smile.
I nearly growled.
Then TDH snagged my attention by tightening his grasp on my waist. “Eyes here, princess.”
I tore my gaze away from Zane and arched an eyebrow. “Princess?” Irritation rippled through me, but I shoved it away before I did something stupid like tell him off. I knew when I chose him that he was going to be a tough sell for my sensibilities. Instead, I smiled and said, “All right.”
I curled my palm around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Power swelled inside me, my succubus soul seeking an outlet in the form of a decent host.
The moment my demonic energy touched him, he lost control. He slammed me against the wall and yanked my hair, opening my mouth wider to his. It was a perverted mimic to the way Zane had held me on the dance floor, with my hair fisted in his hand and his body sensuous, warm. There was nothing sensuous about this embrace. This was domination, and not in a pleasant way, either.
Even as my skin crawled, TDH’s lust flared and I began to feed. I inhaled his lust, his need, his overwhelming desire, and I just kept feeding, draining him far faster than I should. But I didn’t like the way he’d tried to top me without so much as a blink of consideration regarding my personal tastes.
Zane might have thought me a weak, little girl, but I wasn’t.
And this guy’s assumption of the same pissed me off.
TDH pulled away first, as I knew he would. He swayed against me, and I shoved him away, propping him up against the wall. He struggled to focus on me through his dizziness, and his pupils were dilated so much he looked high.
High on me.
I hummed, tapping my finger against his nose. “Hmm, I don’t think you can keep up with me, big guy. Maybe another time.”
Then I left him slouched there in the corner.
I barely made it a few steps before Zane appeared from the mass of dancers and loomed over me, his lips in a thin line. Despite the heavy cloud of perfume, sweat, and stale alcohol that hung over the club, his spicy scent swirled around me like a living thing, tugging me closer. Beckoning me the way I’d beckoned TDH.
“You disappeared,” Zane said shortly.
Rolling my eyes, I tried to brush past him as I replied, “Go back to your blonde.”
Zane’s hand lashed out, and he caught me by the wrist. His fingers clutched tight to my arm as he pulled me back to him. “What’s with the attitude?”
I curled my hand into a fist and leaned in as I bit out, “Maybe I didn’t appreciate your manhandling earlier.”
Zane tugged me closer, right up against his chest, until I could feel his heartbeat beneath my arm. He licked his lips, his gaze raking over me. “We both know you more than appreciated it.”
I glared at him and willed my traitorous libido to calm the hell down.
“Maybe I don’t like having my emotions manipulated as a warm-up,” I snapped, then twisted out of his hold and stalked toward the exit.
The moment I passed through the heavy metal door, a breeze rushed over me, cooling the heat in my face and my body. A line still waited along the sidewalk to get in, since the place was well over max capacity, and I turned my back on two dozen curious gazes, adjusted my skirt, and stomped off toward the parking lot.
Zane caught up with me as I stepped off the sidewalk to the cracked asphalt. “I wasn’t manipulating your emotions.”
I glanced around for his car, but the lot was full of expensive black sports coupes. I didn’t bother to look at him as I asked, “Then what would you call it?”
“A loss of control,” he muttered.
Whipping around, I shoved my hair away from my face on another burst of cool, night air. “What?” Had he meant that as some sort of insult?
