I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. I wanted to fight him, to scream at him, but my body betrayed me, my hips arching into his touch as he stroked me with maddening precision. Every brush of his fingers sent a jolt of pleasure through me.
He pulled back suddenly, leaving me trembling, and gestured to a chair. “Sit.”
I hesitated, but the bond thrummed with his dominance, his command wrapping around me like a leash. Slowly, I lowered myself into the chair, wincing as the toy shifted inside me. Crossing my legs was out of the question, so I sat with my knees pressed tightly together, my hands clutching the armrests.
Without another word, Raffaele disappeared through the door that led down to the ballroom. He made his grand entrance, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. The crowd parted for him, bowing their heads in deference as he strode toward the head of the room.
Suddenly, the toy inside me came to life, vibrating with a relentless rhythm. I sucked in a sharp breath and dug my fingers into the armrest as I fought to keep my composure.
I glared down at Raffaele, but he simply crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. He turned the vibration up, and my hips shifted involuntarily. I clenched my thighs, desperate to fight the building pleasure, but it was no use.
The crowd followed Rafaele’s gaze. Their expressions were curious, amused, some even scandalized. Humiliation burned through me, but I couldn’t deny the little thrill beneath it.
I couldn’t take it anymore. If he wanted a show, I’d give him one. Besides, the audience weren’t seeing the real me. Raffaele had said that I was illusioned as some vampire prisoner, which only made me bolder.
I opened my legs wider, revealing my bare thighs. A collective gasp rippled through Raffaele’s company as I moaned loudly, gripping my inner thighs and throwing my head back.
Raffaele narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward in his chair. I felt his fear through the bond, his control slipping as I turned the tables on him.
Sliding a hand down my neck, I traced the curve of my collarbone before slipping my fingers beneath the neckline of my dress. I pulled one breast free, tweaking my nipple with deliberate slowness.
The orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, pleasure rolling through me in relentless waves. My body arched as I cried out. I didn’t care who was watching. I didn’t care about the whispers or the gasps from the crowd below. All I cared about was the satisfaction of seeing Raffaele on his feet, his face pale, his control shattered. He wanted me to suffer in silence, not putting on a show.
He stormed toward the door, and the vibrations inside me ceased. I let out a shaky, victorious laugh.
For the first time, I felt like I’d won.
23
RAFFAELE
Blood roared in my ears as I shoved through the crowd, my gaze fixed on the balcony. The bond pulsed with her emotions—rage, defiance, and a molten wave of pleasure. I hadn’t anticipated my plan to unravel like this, and now the consequences were staring me in the face.
She was sitting with her legs spread, one hand gripping her breast while the other slipped beneath her panties. Whispers rippled through the sea of onlookers. My chest tightened as I watched her throw her head back, her bare breast catching the overhead lights like a fucking beacon.
She was touching herself. In front of everyone.
No one was supposed to see her like this, even illusioned as she was. The thought was like a knife twisting in my gut. My jaw clenched as I forced my way to the stairs, shoving aside anyone who dared get in my way. Each step felt like a battle against my own fury—not at her, but at myself. This was my doing. My plan. And it had spiraled so far out of control that I could barely think straight.
When I reached the balcony, she was still writhing, her back arching as soft moans slipped from her lips. The sight sent a boltof heat through me, a visceral response I couldn’t ignore, even as my anger burned hotter. I stormed over to her.
Vivian turned her head. There was no shame in her eyes, no regret. There was, however, a wicked glint of triumph that made my blood boil. She wanted to provoke me, to push me over the edge. And gods help me, it was working.
I crossed the balcony in two strides. “You’ve really fucked up now.”
She scrambled to her feet, her dress askew, but before she could say a word, I scooped her up and threw her over my shoulder. She let out a startled gasp, her fists pounding weakly against my back as I carried her down the hall toward my quarters.
“Put me down, you bastard,” she hissed, her fists connecting with my back again, though the blows were more symbolic than effective.
I didn’t bother to respond. I was entirely focused on getting her away from prying eyes. My grip tightened around her legs. That warm, intoxicating scent of her arousal filled my senses and made it damn near impossible to think straight. By the time I reached my bedroom, my self-control was hanging by a thread.
I kicked the door shut behind us and turned the lock. Vivian struggled against me, her fire undiminished even as I set her down on the edge of the bed.
“What the fuck is your problem?” she snapped, her eyes blazing with fury.
“My problem? You’re asking me that after what you just did?”
Her lips twisted into a defiant smirk. “Did you like the show I put on for your friends?”
