Sylver drags me to an alleyway. It’s dark, and there isn’t anyone keeping us company except for the graffiti of a nude woman on the wall. This doesn’t look like the most romantic place. At first, I think he’s going to force me against my will. Instead, he leaves me at one wall and walks to the other one.
It’s a tight alleyway. The floor is wet with puddles and it’s not exactly the cleanest place.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“What you asked me to.” He takes off his shirt. Languidly.
My breathing quickens. Damn. The fabric peels off his skin. He’s nothing but muscle underneath. Chiseled and ripped. He’s not overly bulky. His frame is just right, perfectly proportioned, enough to make any woman drool.
Enough to make my insides churn with desire.
His eyes rake over me. “Regretting it?”
“Not the least bit.” A lump lodges in my throat.
His hands lower, until they’re over his pants. Shit.
Usually I’m the one doing the stripping.
“Just stand there and watch,” he says. “Don’t touch yourself.”
I’m feeling hot and bothered when I shouldn’t be—he’s the enemy, for goodness’ sake. Then again, when we were in the casino, it felt like he was on my side, that I could trust him. I tell myself that it’s just the crazy part of me talking. It’s me thinking with my vagina instead of with my head.
I’m still doing it, even after we left.
His fingers lower to the bulge in his pants. The sound of him unzipping pierces the air. He pulls his cock out.
Sweet mother of—
He’s huge. Suddenly I’m imagining him inside me, stretching me, and my mouth waters. I should walk away. Leave. There’s nothing binding me here, but my feet are glued to the ground and my gaze is stuck on Sylver.
“What are you doing?” I ask again. My voice is sultrier than I expected it to sound. Huskier. My inner minx awakens, and I start thinking about throwing myself at him. To ask him to fuck me crazy. But I have a leash on her, and I’m not about to let her loose.
Not much, anyway.
His expression is what really makes the view amazing. Some of his tousled hair covers his face. His jaw is gritted tight, and he’s raking his eyes over me like he wants me.
He runs his tongue over his lower lip. He fists his length in his hand. I can’t stand to look at him, and yet I do. It’s too much.
“Look at me, Val,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “I want you to see what you do to me. All I can think about is how to fuck you. How nice it’ll be to see you writhing underneath me, to beg for more.”
“I don’t beg.”
He smirks. “You will.”
“I don’t.”
He drags out a long sigh as he works himself. “I can already smell your wetness. You’re lying to yourself.”
I’m thinking to tell him to go fuck himself again, but that’s what got me in this predicament in the first place. I can’t decide whether I’m enjoying it. That’s the tough part. I wonder if I look like that dealer back in the casino. She was basically gawking at Sylver with hooded eyes the entire half-hour we were there. The way she ogled him annoyed me, and I couldn’t put my finger on why.
It’s agonizing to watch. He’s beautiful even when he’s being such a prick. His body looks like it’s carved from stone. He’s taking his time. Stroking himself slowly, deliberately.
I can’t breathe.
Fuck.
“What are you thinking about, Valerie?” he says.
I hate how much I love the sound of my name on his tongue. It’s probably his incubus pheromones making me react this way. Yes, that’s it. Not how sexy he looks.
“I’m…” I try to find the words, but they’re not rolling off my tongue the way they’re supposed to.
“I’m thinking it’s nice to look at you when I’m doing this. But how it’ll be nicer if it were your lips instead of my hands over my cock. Or how I’d prefer it if I could sink myself into your pussy. I’m curious to see how you’d react to that. Fuuck.” He groans loudly, shifts against the wall, and closes his eyes. “Maybe Vickal can be there. He’ll be fucking your mouth, his hands in your hair, as I enter you from behind. Would you like that, Val?”
“Stop saying my name.”
“Xeres can watch, too. I’ve been trying to drag him in, but he’s stubborn like that. Maybe with you, he’ll agree.”
I’m digging my fingers into my palm. It’s grating how he’s working the words over me. He’s not even touching me, and my body protests. I clench my thighs together. I can feel my wetness soaking my clothes. It’s a fresh pair of panties, too.
He grits his teeth and hisses, throwing his head back. It’s darker here, but enough sunlight shines through the spaces between the buildings for me catch the details that matter.
I press my hands against the wall behind me. It’s cool against my palms.
Sylver opens his eyes. His hazel-green gaze increases in intensity—it’s hard, but not with the harshness of Vickal’s or Xeres’s. There’s need hiding in his expression. He wants me. He wouldn’t be making contracts, bargains, and whatnot if he didn’t. Electricity courses through my veins. I’m used to men wanting me—but not men like him. Men like him can have any woman they want. They aim for classier game, not the stripper at the small club they go to just for a good time. I should be warier. It’s too easy to get swept up and drown with people like him.
“You don’t know,” he whispers. He bites his lower lip and continues to study me. I can hear my heart pounding feverishly. “You don’t know what things I’ve been thinking to do to you.”
Desire crawls through me. “What?” I ask. The voice that escapes me doesn’t even sound like me. It belongs to another woman. Someone who’s blinded and tempted by what she shouldn’t long for.
Sylver’s still pumping his length with his fist. I keep trying to avoid glancing there, but it’s nearly impossible. The scent of his incubus pheromones is thick in the air.
He smiles, and my heart nearly stops. “I’m going to make you cry out my name. I’ll make you come so many times you’ll be begging me to stop. And even when you do, I won’t. I’ll send you over the edge of pleasure, until you can’t tell up from down and you’re repeating my name in my ears, begging for my mercy. Fuck, Val. You’ll feel so good wrapped around my cock.”
My cheeks flush. I can’t take it anymore. I throw caution to the wind and let myself track his every movement. It’s his soft little moans and grunts that get to me, especially when coupled with him murmuring my name as if it’s a prayer.
I unbutton my jeans. His gaze falls to my fingertips. I hesitate before slipping my fingers to my center, all the while thinking about how I’d prefer it if my fingers were Sylver’s.
I’m stroking myself as he does the same.
This is wrong.
My desires take control.
“Yesss, Valerie,” he says. “Let me watch you play with that tight little cunt of yours.”
He lets out a loud grunt and strokes himself faster. I quicken as I watch. He sounds his release. It’s bestial. It thrums through me. My release is tightly coiled around my center and threatening to explode. That’s when I pull my resolve together and tug my hands away, forcing the tension to fade into a low hum. The coil is still there, making my mind throb, but I’m no longer on the edge.
I wonder if I should have just let myself tip over.
He’s still hard and ready, despite already coming. My eyes widen.
“I could take care of that knot for you,” he tells me. “Just say the word. Be mine. Ours.”
I harrumph and rub my hands on my jeans, before zipping up. I spin around and walk toward the streets.
A chuckle sounds behind me.
“It’s a matter of time,” he says.
I’m not one for commitment. I’m a little proud of myself for not giving in. I didn’t want to share the experience of release with him. It’s too intimate. Giving it to him would make it seem like he won, and I’m afraid that sly grin splitting his face will turn smug.
The heat of the sun tickles my skin. The world continues to spin. The clouds are blue, and the Vegas buildings are as tall and majestic as ever.
But there’s thunder in my chest, and I’m trying to keep it down.