I chuckle. “And you were worried it would be terrible between us, princess.”
“Alright, there’s no need to be so fucking smug.”
She gently pushes me away, but I grab her hands and pull her in towards me for a kiss, gentle this time.
“So, my place or yours?” I ask.
“What?”
“Are we going to my place or yours?”
“What for?” she smirks.
“You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you, princess?”
She studies my face, holding eye contact for a bit before letting her gaze drop to my lips.
“Well I’m sure as hell not going to your room at the clubhouse, adding my name to the long list of women you’ve had there.”
“They don’t even compare to you, but fine, your place it is.”
She shakes her head, turning to open the door, but I put my hands on her hips and pull her back to me, pressing myself against her perfectly round ass.
“Let’s go and let Designer Suit Steve down gently shall we,” I say, “I hated the guy, but now I know firsthand what he missed out on tonight, I kind of feel bad for him.”
“Fuck you, Diablo!”
“Don’t worry, princess, there’ll be plenty of time for that back at yours.”
Elizabeth
I yank the door open and step out, making my way back to the bar.
This fucking guy.
Granted, he’s just given me the most intense orgasm of my life, but does he need to be so fucking arrogant about it? Confidence is sexy, when he asked me what I needed to come, I nearly came there and then, there’s nothing hotter than a guy asking you what you need. But the arrogance he’s showing now, not sexy, in fact, it’s pissing me off.
Mr. Finance, Simon, is still waiting at the bar; it’s not as though we were quick, so the fact that he’s still sitting there makes me feel bad for him. He looks up but his smile drops, it’s clearly obvious what happened in the restroom, I probably look like I’ve just had my brains fucked out…
Shit.
“Simon, I’m really sorry. Something has come up and I need to bail, I hope you can enjoy the rest of your night though.”
He doesn’t reply, instead nodding, and looking over my shoulder at Diablo, his glare icy. I walk away, but can still hear Diablo when he passes, “Sorry about that Steve. Oh, nice suit by the way.”
Fucking asshole. I don’t even need to look, I know the expression he has on his face, that smug smile that makes me want to punch him. He just had to go and rub it in Simon’s face even more. He is infuriating, yet here I am, taking himback to my apartment, again. Forget having a praise kink, maybe I’m just a fucking masochist.
Note to self, never wear an obscenely short dress with lace underwear on the back of a motorcycle… even more so after you’ve just had the most intense orgasm of your life.
The ride back to my apartment can only be described as torture. It took everything in me not to let myself slide forward and press against Diablo’s back to enjoy all of the sensations. Instead, I had to try and keep my legs as still as possible to stop my dress from riding up and revealing my underwear to the other drivers, all the while gripping the handles on the back of the bike with all the strength I had.
Once we’re parked, I jump off as quickly as possible and adjust my dress, before removing the helmet and shaking out my hair. Diablo presses up against me from behind.
“That dress should be illegal, princess. And you should wear your hair down more often; you look so fucking beautiful.”
He runs his hand through my hair, but I step away. Without looking back, I walk to the stairwell entrance and use a band from my purse to tie my hair up into its usual messy bun. He scoffs but doesn’t say anything.
We walk up the stairs in silence, my high heels adding that extra little sway to my ass and my hips, accentuating everything the dress is displaying. It’s definitely the heels… not me… okay, that’s a lie.
