Not when I slip two fingers inside her, curling them just right. Not when I press my palm against her clit again and grind into her from behind with a soft groan of my own.
“Ben—” Her voice is breathless and broken. “Please?—”
“Please, what?” I growl, lips brushing her jaw. “You want me to stop? You want me to make you come?”
She doesn't answer. She’s too close.
So, I decide for her.
I curl my fingers again, firmly and deeply, my palm rubbing her how she needs. She jerks against the wall, panting, her hands scrambling for purchase as I drag her toward the edge.
I don’t rush. I don’t let up.
I want her to feel every second. I want her to break apart, knowing she gave it up to me.
“We don’t have to fightallthe time, princess,” I whisper behind her ear. “I can give you this whenever you want. You don’t even need to ask. You want more out of this deal? I’ll play my part and give you everything you need to be comfortable.”
She shakes her head but says nothing.
She can fight this, but I’ve learned that I can earn her silence by strumming her clit and shoving my fingers into her tight pussy.
“Come for me,” I growl with my lips against her ear. “Right here. Right now. If you moan my name, I promise to never bring you to another dinner like this.”
She tries to hold it back. I can feel it in the way she clenches around my fingers, biting back a moan.
But I don’t stop, working her relentlessly because I want to hear my name come off those beautiful lips.
“So goddamn perfect, Sienna.” I press my cock against her ass, and she mewls. “This is what you do to me when you’re good. You make me happy.” I thrust my length against her. “Just imagine what I could do with this if you spread your sexy legs around me.”
She shatters, choking on a whimper and convulsing against me. Her thighs tremble, and her chest heaves. Her head falls back onto my shoulder as her body melts through the orgasm that just ripped through her.
And fuck, it’s beautiful.
I’d love to stand here and see what else I can do, but I don’t have the time.
Wedon’t have the time.
I can’t be late for this meeting, and she needs to be on her best behavior for me tonight.
“That’s better,” I murmur against her cheek, voice full of satisfaction. “Fifteen minutes. Dress. Heels. Quiet mouth.Unless you want another lesson in what happens when you push me.”
12
Benedikt
Nightclubs aren’t my thing.
Too loud. Too many bodies. Too much of everything.
But when you’re dealing with men who like theatrics, you meet them where they like to play.
Tonight, it’s a posh spot in downtown L.A. All polished marble and gold accents, velvet ropes, and bottle girls in skimpy dresses. The place screams wealth and crime, which is fitting.
The bass is a slow, thumping heartbeat through the floor. Lights flash red and violet against sleek black walls. I don’t need to look around to know that every pair of eyes in the place is clocking what’s going on. That’s the nature of the beast. No one comes to these places without watching who walks in and out.
I’m settled in the roped-off VIP section at the back, a little elevated from the rest of the club. It gives a better vantage point to see everyone and everything. Artem is standing like a gargoyle to my left, his eyes doing their usual sweep, and my other guys are spread out at the entrance, the dance floor, and the bar.
Keeping an eye onher.
