She tilts her head back, fixing me with a seductive gaze. "Mmm, I love when you get all alpha-hole on me." Another deliberate roll of her hips. "Maybe I should keep pushing and see what happens when my Grumpy Bear's control finally snaps."
Her grin turns wicked as she leans in, breath hot against my ear. "Or maybe I'll leave you panting and go find my own fun on the dance floor. Give the crowd a little show and make you watch...Sir."
What the actual fuck has gotten into her tonight?
Does she want me to rip out the throat of every bastard in this place? Because that's precisely what will happen if anyone so much as breathes in her direction.
The waitress delivers our drinks. Dani grabs mine before I can reach it, downing both quickly. She licks her lips slowly at my raised eyebrow.
She springs from my lap with feline grace, grabbing Emily and Sable by the wrists. "Ladies, the dance floor is calling."
With a provocative wink, she saunters away, hips swaying hypnotically. Seraphina follows, ignoring Lucian's warning growl. "Don't start without me!"
I'm halfway up when Lucian's hand clamps my shoulder.
"Down, boy! Let the ladies have their fun," he drawls, lounging back with exaggerated casualness. "Though I gotta say, watching our badass vampire selves get played like fiddles by these women ischef's kissabsolutely delicious. Like a rom-com meets True Blood, but with better lighting and way hotter cast." He waggles his eyebrows. "Besides, you know this is just foreplay for them. They're putting on a show, and we're the captive audience. Get it? Captive? Because we're so whipped we can't even—ow! Why are you hitting me?"
I growl, shoving his hand off my shoulder. "Your mouth ever stop running?"
"Only when I'm sleeping. Or dead. Wait, I am dead. There goes that excuse." His eyes follow Seraphina. "Sit down and enjoy the view. They're trying to rile us up."
"I'm going to rile her up," I mutter, watching Dani move to the pounding beat, head thrown back in abandon. "Right over my fucking knee."
Seeing Dani on that dance floor hits me like a storm surge. Same spot. Same fucking lights. Different world.
I remember first seeing her here—all uninhibited movement and joy, unaware of the predator watching from the shadows. She moved like she owned the place, oblivious to how she was rewriting my existence. Something primal in me recognized what my mind couldn't yet grasp—mine.
Now, we've come full circle. After battles across realms, blood spilled, and a bond forged through darkness and light, the weight of our journey settles in my chest—both burden and blessing.
She still dances like no one's watching but now knows exactly whose eyes track her every move. Still, that fearless woman who captured my attention now carries divine power in her veins and wears my mark on her soul.
The possessiveness remains but has evolved into something deeper, making even an ancient monster like me feel dangerously close to reverence.
An hour of watching Dani throw back shots and dance provocatively has shredded my patience. The club teems with hungry eyes following her movements, my possessive instincts howling. Seraphina has already returned to Lucian's lap, and Sable and Damon practically devour each other nearby. Emily and Brax remain with my mate, both drawing an appreciative crowd.
I'm done watching.
Rhyland
79
In a blur of movement, I'm behind her on the dance floor, pressing my erection against the curve of her ass. My fingers tangle in her sweat-dampened hair, yanking her head back to expose the delicate column of her throat. "Had enough yet?" I grumble against her ear, the bass vibrating through both our bodies.
Her response is to reach behind her, palm sliding over the rigid outline of my cock through my pants. "Not even close," she slurs, eyes glazed with alcohol and defiance.
The scent of whiskey rolls off her in waves. She's beyond tipsy—she's fucking wasted. Decision made. I spin her around and hoist her over my shoulder, clamping one hand over her thighs to preserve what little modesty her dress allows.
She erupts in wild laughter against my back. "Caveman!" she calls loudly enough for nearby dancers to stare. Her drunken laughter is half challenge, half delight.
She protests halfheartedly as I carry her toward the private bathrooms. If she wants to play games and push boundaries, I'll show her what happens when they break. Besides, my little exhibitionist has always thrived on the thrill of potential discovery.
I kick through the bathroom door, depositing her on the marble counter with minimal gentleness. The lock clicks decisively before I return to her. She's still orienting herself, pushing tangled hair from her flushed face.
That smile—half challenge, half invitation—lights up her features. The fierce woman who's faced down gods and monsters looks at me with eyes that promise both heaven and hell. The pride that surges through me at who she's become nearly derails my mission, but my throbbing cock reminds me we have unfinished business.
"Impatient much?" she taunts, words still slightly slurred.
I don't dignify that with aresponse. Actions speak louder than words.
