“Yes,” he says, then takes a long inhale and his voice lowers in timbre. “It’ll pair nicely with your slick pussy.”
I lick my lips, tasting the watermelon lip gloss.
He cups my ass and pulls me against him.
“You want it now?”
My knees go weak and I lean on the hard plane of his chest as I whisper, “We have company.”
“I think you relish the thrill of sneaking an orgasm past them. Don’t you, my little whore?”
I can’t help but moan. Why is this degrading talk so freaking hot? I wouldneverallow another person to talk to me like this, but from him, it turns me to putty in his hands.
“So, this present will make me orgasm?”
“Nothing gets past you,” he murmurs, and then holds a hand between us.
I watch as black swirls around an apex, manifesting into something ovular and small enough to fit in his palm. It takes shape, petals of a rose frozen in something like soft plastic, with a hole where the bud would be.
My mouth hangs open. “Is that a…”
“Another rose, for you,” he says, his voice sinister.
Renee and Andrew are chatting in the main hall about the light show of my magic. God, how long would we really have? Could I?
“You’re considering it,” Bastian groans, pushing me against the shelves.
The thump of my back hitting the wood makes me pause, listening for Renee’s voice. She’s still talking to Andrew, unperturbed.
Bastian’s hand slides up my thigh, his claws catching on my stockings.
“Come on, Kitty. Don’t you want to try out your rose?”
The device hums against the soft skin of my inner thigh and I breathe a heady gasp. Fuck, this is reckless, and stupid. But what’s the worst that’ll happen if I say yes? Nothing life ending. Nothing that’ll be irreconcilable. Safe. I’m safe to explore this.
“Show me,” I whisper.
He grins and the hand cupping my ass snakes under my skirt. He grabs the band of my stockings and yanks them down to my mid-thigh, then puts his feet between mine, pinning them open. I huff something like a yelp, and he crowds me against the shelf.
“Quiet now,” he says, his knuckles dragging along my bare skin. “You can’t let them know.”
I nod feverishly.
He hooks a finger in the crotch of my panties and pulls them aside. The rose slides against me easily with how aroused I am and it’s embarrassing.
Bastian pushes his forehead against mine, engulfing my existence with his. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
The rose buzzes to life and I yelp, my hands flying to Bastian’s biceps. He leans in closer, our lips just an inch apart.
“Quiet, whore,” he growls. “These sounds are just for me.”
Andrew laughs in the other room and my awareness splits between the conversation happening out there and the orgasm building here. I suck a breath through a tiny part in my lips as my fingers curl into his skin. The scales along his arms flicker and shine, reacting to my touch.
He repositions the rose and the hole of the flower finds my clit. I open my mouth on a deep gasp as the pleasure suddenly overwhelms me and Bastian strikes. His lips hit mine like a hammer striking a hot sword, forging it. He shapes my mouth to his as his tongue slides over mine. I cry out into him and he swallows the sound with a groan.
The sensation becomes too powerful and I lock my knees together as I dig my nails into him. He pulls the rose away, but keeps his lips on mine, kissing deeper, and deeper. He grabs my thighs and pulls me off the ground, forcing me to throw my arms around his neck just to stay aloft.
