“That fucking man you were dancing with! He was all over you!”
“Bash, I wasn’t dancing with anyone.”
“Bullshit.” I wrap my fingers around his shirt and tug him closer, the heat from his body nearly suffocating. “Why are you here?”
“I needed to get out,” he breathes. “You wanted… you wanted space, and I was sick of being alone in that room.”
“So you came here to find some company, then?”
“Of course not,” Xeni insists, shaking his head.
I snarl like a wild thing as I fist his shirt harder and take a step back. I drag him with me and push him toward the sink to face the mirror.
His gaze finds mine in the reflection as I press the front of my body to the back of his, and my hands land on his hips to hold him against me.
“Did he touch you?” I demand.
He shakes his head, those perfect lips still parted.
“Not here?” I squeeze his hipbones, and he whines as he tosses his head again.
“What about here?” I demand as my palm moves up his chest, fingers toying with his nipple under his shirt.
“No,” he breathes with a shiver.
My hand slides down to cup his crotch, and a needier sound escapes him as I drag my palm along the length of his cock. I’m hard too, pressing into his ass and nearly combusting with the tension.
My lips skirt his ear as I grip him through his pants. “Is this for him? Were you hard because of him?”
“No,” he moans, pushing back against me.
I need skin on skin, to feel the heat of his body and the twitch of his muscles. Need the contact like I need my next breath, and his eye closes as my hand slides under his shirt.
“Look at me,” I murmur as I nip at his ear, and he obeys immediately as my thumb glides over the taut point of his nipple.
His gaze travels down his reflection to watch as I unbutton his pants, and he makes more of those needy, whining sounds low in his throat as my fingertips dance along the crease of his hip.
“Are you wet for him?” I ask as I nudge his jeans lower, exposing his ass.
His head thrashes from side to side in another denial as I push his panties aside. The fabric is soaked, and slickness coats my finger as I press it against his hole.
“Gods, please, Bash,” he moans as he arches back, whimpering as my fingertip breaches him.
“Tell me what I want to hear,” I say as I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, groaning at the friction. “Why are you wet, princess?”
“Because I… I like seeing you jealous.”
“Did you dance with him to get my attention?”
“No,” he whines. “I didn’t realize anyone was there, I swear. I didn’t… didn’t do it on purpose.”
“But you liked how I reacted?” I ask as I line us up.
“Yes,” he moans, arching his spine.
Our eyes meet in the mirror and he nods, reaching back to grab my clothes and pull me closer.
“Bash, please,” he whispers.
