Home > Beneath These Lies (Beneath #5)(57)

Beneath These Lies (Beneath #5)(57)
Author: Meghan March

Wasn’t it?

His gaze was on me, but now the fire was banked and concern was visible.

Crap. Me and my overactive brain were killing the moment. I looked back to the stage, the woman straddled the man, lower now, so she could tear at his belt with her teeth.

I wanted to be the aggressor for once. The instigator. But I wasn’t sure if I could do that here.

I leaned close to Rix’s ear. “I need to use the ladies’.”

He narrowed his eyes on me, but slid out of the booth so I could pass. “You okay?”

I nodded. It was a lie. I wasn’t okay, but I would be.

Walking toward the back of the room, I found a server, and he directed me to the ladies’ room.

Instead of going inside, I walked past it, looking for another door. There had to be something. I pushed open a door marked PRIVATE.

Bingo.

It was a storage room of some kind. Flipping on the light revealed stacks of chairs, a few tables, and shelves of linens. There was no lock on the door, but I was turning over a new leaf. Pulling my phone from my clutch, I slowed when I saw my reflection in its glass screen. My mask hid the nerves, anticipation, daring, arousal, and a hundred other emotions rioting, but at least if we got caught, it would hide my identity.

Was that why I was being so daring tonight?

No, I decided. It wasn’t the mask that had freed me from my inhibitions and given me this plan. It was Rix.

I swiped my screen and punched in my passcode incorrectly. Three times. Get it together, Valentina.

Finally unlocking my phone, I clicked open a text to Rix.

VALENTINA: Need you.

It was the truth. I did need him. Now.

His response was instant.

RIX: On my way.

I waited thirty seconds before I pulled open the door a crack. Rix was striding toward the ladies’ room, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his phone. Concern marked his expression.

He slowed near the ladies’ room. It was time.

“Over here.”

Brows furrowed, he jerked his head in the direction of my voice and strode toward the door.

“What—”

I pulled the door open the rest of the way and grabbed the soft wool of his suit coat to yank him inside.

“What the—”

Shutting the door with a click, I flipped off the lights and pushed him toward an empty wall.

“Shhh. You don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

I wished I could see his face, but I worried the light would draw attention to us, and there was nothing in the world I wanted interrupting exactly what I was doing right now. Which was shoving the jacket off his shoulders, tossing it on the table to our left, and threading my fingers through his. I lifted both of his hands up over his shoulders and pressed them against the wall. He didn’t fight me.

“My duchess is feeling naughty tonight,” he whispered to the dark room.

“Maybe just a little.” I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged before flicking and soothing it with my tongue. My mouth closed over his, my tongue sliding inside. I loved his taste, his scent, everything about this man.

I just love him.

The realization struck me and I released his hands, wanting to touch more of him, wanting this scene to play out like it had in my head. A fantasy I never knew I had until I’d watched the show onstage tonight.

“I want you,” I told him as I reached for his belt buckle and slipped the belt free.

“I always fucking want you.”

“Right now. Right here.”

He lowered his hands to glide down my sides and he squeezed my hips. “Thank God.”

The next words I wanted to speak stuck in my throat. They were dirtier, filthier than I’d ever spoken before, but they were exactly what I wanted. So I found the courage to say them anyway.

“I want you to fuck me against this wall. My legs wrapped around your waist, you holding me up until we both come. And then I want to straighten my skirt and your jacket and walk back to our table with no one having any clue what just happened.”

I imagined his eyes flaring with heat. His hands squeezed my sides in approval.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, duchess. Especially that.”

His hand dropped lower on my leg until he found my bare thigh and slid up it. He paused when he didn’t feel any panties.

Once again, I wished I could see his face, because the shock had to be perfect.

I’ll shock him again someday.

His groan filled the room. “Killin’ me.” Rix’s hand closed around my bare ass and slid low between my cheeks. “Soaked. Perfect. Mine.”

One finger circled my opening, teasing just enough to bring out my own moan. I wanted more. Needed him filling me.

As soon as the thought entered my head, he plunged one finger inside.

“Oh God. Yes.” I rocked my hips against him.

“Wish I could watch you fucking my finger. So damn perfect.”

“More.”

His forehead lowered to mine as he continued to thrust his finger in and out. “You want me? Here? Where anyone could walk in and see us?”

The recitation of the discovery we could face did nothing to chill my desire. If anything, it fed the flames.

“Yes, here. Now.”

“Then I better give you want you want.”

His hand left me, and I heard the hiss of a zipper. I reached out, palming his cock and closing my hand around it to stroke.

“That what you want?”

“Yes.”

Both hands wrapped around my ass and he lifted me. “Legs around my waist, duchess.”

I followed orders, and his cock fit between us perfectly. Frissons of pleasure scattered through me as I ground against it, going higher each time to push the head against my entrance. Rix lifted me, helping my purpose along. Seated against me, he lowered me slowly and his cock sank inside me, inch by inch until I was filled. Gloriously, amazingly filled.

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