When we walked in, the hostess gave Damon the side-eye. At least I was dressed appropriately in my blouse and skirt. He was wearing his usual jeans and a band t-shirt with a studded belt. He was also carrying the plastic bag with the Naughty or Nice logo on it. I hoped no one noticed. I hoped he didn't pull out whatever he'd just bought in the middle of the restaurant.

"Good evening monsieur, madame." The hostess was polite despite her expression. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Nope," Damon said cheerfully. He slipped the girl a handful of bills. "I'm sure you can work something out. Hopefully a table somewhere private?"

Her eyes went wide. She immediately consulted her tablet and tapped a few times on the screen.

"Right this way," she said as she discreetly tucked the bills into her pocket.

She led us to a table near the back. There were two other tables within our line of sight, but only one was occupied.

"Now can I know what's in the bag?" I asked as soon as we were seated.

"I thought you didn't care," Damon said.

"I can't help but be a little curious," I said breezily. "After all, you brought the bag in with you. It must be important."

"Let's order first," he said.

The waiter appeared just as we decided on our meals, not making us wait. To my surprise, Damon had no trouble ordering, despite the entire menu being in French. That man continued to surprise me every day.

The waiter asked if we'd be ordering a bottle of wine to go with dinner. Damon shook his head.

"Water is fine," he said.

When he left, I spoke up.

"Did you just assume I don't want wine?" I asked. "You know how sexist it is for the guy to order for the girl without consulting with her?"

"It's not sexist," he said. "I just don't want either us under the influence for what comes next."

"And what exactly is that?" I asked, taking the bait.

"You."

I raised an eyebrow. "In the middle of a restaurant? I know you're a sex god, but even you can't make me orgasm from across the table."

"Is that a challenge?" His eyes glinted.

"Go ahead and try," I said, "What are you going to do? Throw me smoldering looks? Use dirty words?"

He simply passed me the bag. I grabbed it and hid it in my lap, hiding the logo.

"Open it," he urged. The eagerness in his voice, the hunger, was unmistakable.

A tingle went through me. My stomach muscles clenched. I didn't even know what was in the bag and my body was already responding.

"It's not going to bite," he added.

Slowly, I peeked into the bag. There was something vaguely egg-shaped in there, along with what looked like a miniature remote control.

My thighs pressed together unconsciously. A slow throb started up between my legs.

I knew exactly what this was for.

I lifted my eyes to Damon. "Are you seriously—"

"I want to watch you come."

I snapped my jaw shut. His heated eyes narrowed at me.

"Your flushed face, your red, kissable lips, your blissed out expression…" His eyes dropped to my mouth, nostrils flaring. "I've been dying to see it again."

I inhaled a shaky breath, the pulsing between my thighs growing stronger.

"And you think here and now is the best time for that?" I asked, refusing to show him how affected I was. I wasn't going to give in that easily.

"No time like the present," he said.

"You're so…."

"You're already getting wet at the thought of putting that thing inside yourself, aren't you?" A wicked little smirk crossed his face. "You're getting wet thinking about me being in control of your pleasure. Thinking about me giving you exactly what you need."

I suppressed a whimper, my breathing going shallow. He was right. The beginnings of wetness was making itself known between my legs.

I shifted in my seat, squirming, trying to alleviate the ache.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to use this in public," I said.

"Using it in public is the whole point," he said. "No one will know what we're doing. It's discrete. It's hot."

My hands trembled. Before I could say anything, the waiter returned with our glasses of water. I shoved the bag under the tablecloth.

Damon nodded his thanks and took a sip, keeping his eyes trained on mine the whole time.

"You really want me to…?" I trailed off, looking back in the bag, not able to say it out loud.

"I want you to put that vibrator in your pussy and I want to make you come in the middle of this restaurant."

He said the words matter-of-factly, at speaking volume, not even trying to be quiet.

The thought of doing something so dirty, so naughty, was making my head spin. I'd never done anything like this before.

Then again, what I'd told Damon was true. I'd done a lot of things I'd never done before because of him.

I met his eyes. For all that they were full of hunger, they also held a challenge.

This was practically a dare.

Damn that man.

Before I could second guess myself I got up from the table. I walked calmly to the ladies room, bag gripped tight in my hand. Luckily the restaurant had private rooms, not stalls.

I took the egg out of its plastic case. I washed it with soap and hot water in the sink, both to sanitize and to heat it up. I held it in my hand and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were wide and bright. My cheeks were pink.

And yes, my panties were already damp.

It was almost embarrassing, trying to put the thing inside myself, but once it was situated correctly, I could barely feel it.

I washed my hands, put my skirt back into place and tucked in my blouse. With a deep breath, I left the washroom.

I could have sworn every single person I passed looked at me funny, as if everyone knew exactly what I'd just done. Exactly what I was about to do.

Of course, that was just my head playing tricks on me. I knew that. Still, I ducked my head and hurried back to the table. I took my seat. I expected it to be uncomfortable, but I still couldn't feel a thing.

"Is it in?" Damon asked under his breath. Now he was quiet.

"Yes."

"Let me see the bag."

I handed it over. He took out the remote. My inner muscles clenched.

He didn't do anything. He simply tucked it into his pants pocket.

I relaxed somewhat, the anticipation receding.

'The waiter said the hors d'oeuvres will be out soon," he said.

"That's good," I said, trying to play it cool. "I'm getting hungry."

"Make sure to leave room for dessert," he said.

I half expected him to pull out the remote and start using it right then.

"Is there where you make a joke about oral sex?" I asked.

The moment the words oral sex left my mouth the waiter appeared. I flushed and pretended to play with the cloth napkin to avoid his eyes.

"The first course," he said politely, setting the plates on the table in front of each of us. If he'd heard my remark, he wasn't reacting to it. "Bon appétit."

The first course was pâté with a loaf of French bread. Damon took the bread knife and cut the loaf into thin slices. He took his time, carefully applying the knife to the bread, sawing his way through. He spread a bit of the pâté on a slice and placed it on my plate.

I squirmed the entire time.

"I've never had this one before," he noted. "Let me know if you like it."

"Sure," I muttered. I shoved it in my mouth and chewed, barely tasting it. His eyes were locked on mine. One hand slid underneath the table.

I tensed up. Was he reaching for the remote?

But nothing happened. I relaxed slightly.

"How is it?" he asked.

I swallowed. "Good."

He nodded and began applying pâté to his own slice with care before taking a bite. I stared at him as he chewed slowly.

"You're right, it is good," he said when he finished. "I hope the rest of the meal is just as delicious."

I saw his arm move at his side. I inhaled a sharp breath and held it, tensing.

He pulled out his phone and thumbed the volume button.

"Sorry, I forgot to put it on silent." He shoved it back into his pocket. "Don't want to be rude and interrupt our meal."

"Why aren't you—?" I blurted out, before stopping myself.

His lips curved in a playful smile. "Are you so eager?"

"You're enjoying this," I accused.

"Fuck yeah I am," he said breezily. "I love watching you squirm."

"You're evil," I said.

"Nah." His eyes drifted to the side, watching the waiter approach. "This is evil."

"What—"

The waiter appeared at the table.

The toy turned on.

I let out a choked whimper.

The tiniest of vibrations started up inside me. It rubbed against my inner walls, quick little tremors sending tingles shooting through me. I immediately clenched down, muscles rippling. It only served to intensify the sensation.

"Your main course," the waiter said. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Yes, actually." Damon began peppering him with questions. Who was the chef, where had they trained, how long had the restaurant been open, perhaps we would have wine after all and did he have any recommendations?

I sat still, or as still as I could be, considering. My thighs were tense. My belly tightened, then relaxed, then tightened again. I kept both palms firmly on the table, hoping to counteract the trembling. I held my breath, throat closed up, trying to prevent any embarrassing sounds from leaving my mouth.

The sensations were familiar. After all, I'd used vibrators on myself.

But never like this. Never in public. Never with someone else in control.

Never with Damon's eyes burning into mine.

"I could recommend a few wines if you would like," the waiter said. "But our sommelier knows much more than I do. Shall I ask her?"

I thought Damon would say yes and send the waiter on his way.

I jolted and almost yelped as the vibrations got faster, the toy turning up a notch.

"We don't need to bother her," he said. "Why don't you go through the list with us?"

The pleasure intensified. My limbs shook with small tremors. My toes curled in my shoes. My lips unconsciously parted with a silent puff of air. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from moaning.

"I think we'll skip the wine after all," Damon said when the waiter was finished. I almost let out a sigh of relief, thinking that he would leave.

He turned up the vibe again. I nearly came then and there.

"Maybe you could walk us through the dessert menu?" Damon said, eyes sparkling as they glanced at me.

"I'll fetch it for you," the waiter said.

I almost relaxed.

"No need," Damon said. "Why don't you just tell us about some of the specials?"

I nearly screamed with frustration. Or maybe pleasure. My insides were pulsing and throbbing almost painfully. I caught my hips making small rocking motions. I locked all my muscles. So far the waiter hadn't noticed anything, but if he caught me humping my seat, I'd die of embarrassment.

I turned my head to the side and squeezed my eyes shut, taking shallow breaths. It was no use. The pleasure was reaching unbearable heights. It felt so, so good. I wasn't sure if it was because of the toy, or because we were in the middle of a restaurant, or because I knew it was Damon doing this to me, but all of it combined to cause one enormous wave of pleasure, a tsunami threatening to crash into me and send me reeling.

Finally, mercifully, Damon sent the waiter away. There was no way he hadn't noticed something odd, but he left without a word, polite and professional.

"I hate you," I said, voice strangled.

"No," he corrected, teasing. "You love me. Remember?"

I did allow myself to rock back and forth, then. I slowly opened my eyes. The need I saw in Damon's must have reflected my own.

"Please," I whimpered.

The heat in his gaze flared up. "Are you close?"

"Yes," I nearly moaned.

"Can you come without touching yourself?" he asked. "Can you come with just that toy inside you?"

"I— I don't know," I gasped out quietly. "I've never… I've always…" I've always needed some stimulation on my clit to send me over the edge.

"I want you to come, Faith." His voice was commanding. "I want you to come just like this."

"I… don't know if I…"

With another click of the remote, the vibrations went crazy. I fell forward, catching myself with both hands on the table before I face planted into my meal.

"Oh god." I moaned.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I fought to raise my head. I met Damon's eyes. They were bright and glassy, almost fogged over with lust, the same as mine must have been.

"I wish it was my cock inside that sweet pussy of yours." Damon's eyes narrowed. "I wish I was the one fucking you, feeling that tight heat around me. I want to be the one who gives you this kind of pleasure. The only one."

"You are," I whimpered.

"Come for me," he said.

"I—"

"Faith." We locked gazes. "Come for me now."

He clicked the remote again. The vibe jumped inside me.

My vision whited out and I exploded. My mouth parted into a silent O. I let out a strangled, high pitched keen. All my muscles tensed and shook, contracting and releasing over and over again.

Pure pleasure sang through my veins, from my core, through all my nerve endings, to the tips of my fingers and toes. It went on and on and on as the vibe continued to buzz inside me. I shook and panted and whined as quietly as I could.

Distantly, I felt the vibe slow, going down each setting one by one as Damon guided me through my never-ending orgasm.

Finally, the vibe stopped. My head fell back against the booth as my limbs went limp. My whole body quaked with aftershocks.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous when you come," Damon said out loud.

I moaned a small warning.

"Don't worry, there's no one around," he said. "I was waiting for the couple at the other table to leave before I turned it up all the way."

I rolled my limp neck to stare at him, panting heavily.

"You're welcome," he said, twinkle in his heated eyes.

I wet my lips, but couldn't form words.

"I hope you weren't looking forward to eating that meal," he said.

"Why?" I managed to say with a quick exhalation of air.

That teasing expression turned carnal. "Because right now I need to take you home and bury my cock inside those pretty pink lips of yours."

The throbbing and fluttering of my inner walls had nothing to do with the vibe still in me. I couldn't help the quickening of my heartbeat. "I was never a big fan of French food anyway."