I watched Corbin hold his hand out to her and gesture with his other to the open dance floor when a new song started to play, and my jaw tensed when she accepted, letting him guide her to it. My gaze followed them, watching as he wrapped an arm around her on the dance floor, smiling at her as they talked and slowly moved to the music.
Then, she made the mistake of looking at me. My eyes locked with her from my place near the back wall…and an aching need for her flourished.
I began to move, slowly making my way around the edge of the ballroom toward the exit. My eyes remained trained on her, and hers would subtly flicker in my direction every few steps. I paused by the exit, ensuring I locked eyes with her one last time before casually slipping out and turning to the left.
Something in my gut told me she would be following me shortly. And I was using that instinct for a different form of sabotage that night. To prove she needed and wanted me as much as I did her, date or not.
I passed by a few guests lingering in the near-empty hall, distracted by their conversations, and walked until I came to a door…to what I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I opened it and slipped inside, glancing around with the light from the hall—it was an all-but-empty coat closet, one I assumed was used for events that took place in the colder months, with only a few forgotten jackets hanging inside.
I kept the door open a crack and leaned against the inside frame.
And I waited…
I could hear the faint melody of the song that had been playing when I left the ballroom coming to an end, and my heart rate spiked in anticipation, almost as if I could sense her making her way toward me. A few moments later, I heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor, the owner’s steps light and casual as they grew closer.
I stepped back into the shadows of the small space just in case, but when I saw a flash of red through the crack of the door, I stepped forward, opened it, and reached out. My hand curled around her arm, and I yanked her into the closet before she could let out a full gasp of surprise, closing the door behind her.
“Wes?” I heard her breathe my name in the darkness.
I flicked on the dim overhead light inside the room, tilting my head with a wicked smirk. “Hi, Princess.”
“Why did you lea?—”
I cut her off when I stepped forward and crushed my lips against hers as I backed her against the nearest wall. My tongueslipped past her lips, and she didn’t even hesitate to let me in, parting them in response with a quiet moan as I pressed my body against hers.
The kiss reminded me of our first in its roughness, but unlike that first time…it was far from hate-filled. It was still desperate, but in a way that felt like I was trying to engrave something into her with my lips alone.
My need for her at that moment became a physical necessity. I felt like if I didn’t have her, I was going to die. I needed to be with her. To remind her that I was there.
NotCorbin.
Not anyone else.
Me.
My hand reached down, slipping into the opening of the thigh-high slit and running up her leg. “You’ve been driving me fucking crazy all goddamn night long,” I rasped against her lips. I drew back just enough to look down at her in that gown. “The way you look in this dress should be a fucking crime.”
“Wes,” she whimpered, half in protest, half in need.
I slid my hand higher as my eyes lifted back to hers. “Do you want me to stop?” My hand slipped right between her legs, rubbing her over the thin scrap of fabric that was her underwear.
She bit her lip to muffle her moan, dropping her head back against the wall. “N-No,” she stuttered, “but my d-date?—”
“Don’t worry, Princess, you’ll get back to your fancydate. But when you do, it’s going to be with me dripping down your legs.”
The next sound she made was a gasp, and her eyes widened when she registered the sound of tearing fabric. She looked down just as I pulled the torn thong out from under her dress and shoved what was left of it into the pocket of my suit jacketbefore crashing my lips against hers again as I lifted her leg to my waist.
Morgan moaned, reached down, and roughly tugged my belt loose before yanking the button of my pants open. She worked me free, and when I felt her hand brush against my dick, I groaned against her lips. I was already so hard, and it was a miracle I didn’t blow my fucking load right there from just her touch.
“If I didn’t know better…I’d say you’re jealous, Wes,” she panted teasingly against my lips.
“You show up with a date on your arm looking likethis? You bet your sweet ass I’m jealous.” My hand dipped back under the skirt of her gown through the slit in the fabric, sliding up her thigh. “How were you expecting tonight to end, huh?” She moaned when I stroked a finger against her, and I had to bite back a growl at the way she was already dripping for me. “Would you have gone home with him if he tried?”
“Maybe,” she breathed tauntingly.
A low, sardonic chuckle escaped me. “Wrong answer, Princess.” I slammed two fingers inside of her up to the knuckles, earning a moan from her that I had to muffle with another rough kiss as her hips lifted toward me from the welcomed intrusion. I drew back just enough to feel her ragged breaths against my lips as I curled my fingers and rubbed my thumb against her clit. “Because I own your pussy.Iown the way it drips for me, the way it begs to be filled, stretched, and taken. The way it tightens around me. I have for the last year and then some. And deal or not, I’ll bedamnedif someoneelseis going to swoop in to try and fucking take what’smine.”
She ground her hips against my hand with desperate need. “Wes, please,” she whimpered.
