My hand glides up the silkiness of her skin, goosebumps rippling in my wake along her inner thigh.
“Stop exploring and buckle that onto my leg already, you fiend,” she whispers, and I glance up from the floor to see a wicked smile edging her lips.
My heart cracks in my chest, looking at her.
Sometimes I stare at her in disbelief, bewildered by the woman she’s turned into.
She still has the girl I fell madly in love with inside her, but this wild cat that dominates her personality?
It drivesmefucking feral.
I’d let this woman destroy me into nothing, then smile about it.
Sheathing the knife against her thigh, I slap her pussy against her panties, reaching to my full height to look down at her.
Her eyes are narrowed on me, not amused at my actions in the back of Dawson’s van, but I don’t miss the change in her breathing.
I lean down into her ear, brushing the loose strands of fake blonde hair over her shoulder to whisper in her ear, “Is it tight enough?”
Her throat flexes on the deep swallow, brushing against my lips as I hold my head beside her.
“Yes,” she breathes, and I smile, pressing a kiss against her neck.
“Good. Because I’m fucking you with that on when we get home.”
Pulling away, I inch backwards to drop in the seat across from her, watching the blush creep up her cheeks as she unsteadily sits down.
We’re about fifteen minutes out from the spot Dawson and Rex will park at before we swap vehicles. Turning up to the Montgomerys’ manor in a fucking TV hire van would draw too much attention.
A bit like the dress options Indie had laid out in her room.
She decided to wear a long, sleek black dress, a discrete split up the thigh. It’ll blend in with everyone else at the event, but she could turn up in the most basic of scrap material and still steal the show.
The black made her feel more comfortable, but it makes my dick feel uncomfortable in these pants.
She was crafted by some superior being, a true beauty that’s too good for this world.
Too good for me.
I’ve said it before; I am a selfish bastard.
Anyone even glances at her for a second too long tonight, might have me putting this whole night in the fucking air.
She studies me from across the other end, now strapped in beside Dawson’s security setup. She’s nervous, that I can tell.
Her leg subtly bounces as it’s crossed over the other; either that or she’s alive with the electricity on getting her hands on the ones who caused her darkened way of life.
I’ve been distracting her through the day, worried her mind might drift too far into an area she doesn’t allow it to often.
The van grinds to a stop. Rex gets out from the front, leaving one of our guys to keep watch, Dawson still zoned in on his laptop.
The double doors open, revealing the pre-evening sky.
“You got weapons?” Rex asks from outside, and I nod.
“Blade on us both, no guns as per your request, mate.”
Ross is helping with security, patting us down before entry when we arrive at the manor.
