It’s one of those places where the exclusivity grants both anonymity and exposure, depending on your needs. It also sits on the border of my territory and Finnegan’s. Places like Dietrich are considered no man’s land, where truce is the name of the game. Still, I trust Finnegan about as much as I trust politicians, hence my security. I’m also bringing his daughter, because I want that bastard to see us together, see how she acts for me.
She’s going to act like all she wants is my cock, like all she wants is to spread her fucking beautiful legs and beg for me. She’s going to act like she’s my property and loves every fucking moment of it.
He might respond, he might not. I’m betting on the latter, but I’m prepared for the former.
One thing I’m sure of is that he’s going to know. He’s going to know every fucking thing that happens between me and Rosalind, his little Thorne, my Rose, in that restaurant.
When we pull up, I glance once at the valet, who immediately stops approaching and waits. I turn to her. “Rose.”
She looks up at me. “Yes?”
I smile at the compliance and hesitation in her voice. “I need you to listen to me.”
“That’s all I do.”
“It’s not all you do,” I tut. “You’re good at… other things…”
Now her real blush floods her cheeks. “Nikolai…”
“Shut up and listen to me. This is very important.” I run my gaze over her. “Spread your legs for me and hike up your skirt.”
She hesitates and then does as I say. As her hemline approaches her pussy, I wait until I can see her smooth lips, the slight glisten because of course she’s fucking wet for me.
“Stop.” She does. “Good girl. Now, Rose. When we go in there, I want that from you.”
“You want me to expose myself?”
“If I ask, yes.” I take a breath and force my lust to back the fuck down. “I want you to put on the act of your life, Rose. Remember how I had you come down those stairs the second time?” She nods. “I want that. I want you to convince anyone who might be watching that I’m your world. That I’m all you want, that I make you happy.”
“Is… is this what gets you off?” She looks away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
I smirk. “I’ll let it slide. You need to do every single thing I say, pretend you want every single thing I do to you, that you want nothing in this world more than to be with me. I want the entire planet to know you’re mine in every conceivable way. Got it?”
This time, she glances at me with confusion in her blue eyes, but she nods. From the sudden smile and clench of her hand in her skirt, I know she’s remembering my threat. That’s when I reach over. “Spread your legs wider for me, Rosalind.”
The moment she does, I slide my fingers lightly over her tight cunt; the softness and heat, the wetness on her lips, it’s like touching heaven as she moans.
“Yes, like that.”
I glance up and her head is back. This, right now, this isn’t an act. Her offering, the submissive openness, the slight lift of her hips, it’s all instinctive.
“Cover up.” She jerks into a sitting position and pulls down her skirt, her hands shaking. “Come, Rosalind. Give the world the show of your life.”
The table I requested is prominent, and anyone who wants to look or watch can, easily. They can take pictures if they want. The moment we step into the restaurant, she’s on fire. She touches me like I touch her, as if we can’t get enough of each other. She looks at me like I’m her world, and if I were another man, I’d lose my fucking head over that look.
Because others, they gaze at her some with open desire and my Rose? She shrivels their dicks. I’m the only man she wants, the only cock she must have. It’s in her every fucking move. It’s blowing up my ego to know that it’s not just an act on her part.
One day, if I let her go, when I let her go, she’ll discover the power she has over men. When she does, it’s going to be an erotic blood bath. She’ll leave those shriveled dicks and bodies behind her because she can, ignore them not because she doesn’t notice, but because she chooses to. Because she enjoys it. She’s going to give the sirens a run for their money.
Still, I’m not interested in that future, if she has one. Just mine and my revenge.
I don’t stop touching her. Hand on her ass, her lower back, her cheek. Throat. I’m in constant contact with my beautiful Rose, and she touches me back. As we’re led to our table, she looks up at me, and I lean in.
“Good girl, sweet Rose,” I murmur against her ear, sucking her lobe and making her moan softly. She puts her hand on my chest and laughs up at me, like I said something inappropriate and she wants more. The besotted look is a killer; not one person would ever imagine she’s with me under duress.
I brush the waiter away and pull out her chair for her. I slide my finger along her exposed tits, not that they’re on display, but the mounds, dipping into the valley between them. She takes my hand and turns, closing her eyes, rubbing against me like a cat in heat, a moan rolling free. I kiss the top of her head as I pass that hand over one tit, giving a not so discreet tweak of her covered nipple. Rosalind jumps a little and looks like she wants more.
“Behave,” I say, the picture of a stern but loving master, which I guess I am. I take my seat, pulling it to the side so I have easy access, and I slide my hand up her thigh, taking the skirt of her dress with me. I come to a stop just before exposing her to the world.
She moans again. “Nikolai.”
“Rose.” I smile slowly. “Do you want to order yours, or have me do it?”
Her eyes are a little glazed. “You.”
“Me?”
“I want you.”
I close the gap and part her thighs with my knee as I kiss her deeply. “You want me or me to order?” I’m a fucking bastard, I know, but the tease is too delicious to deny.
She blinks, that glazed look clearing a little. “You… to order.” She dips her head, just slightly, and I catch a small curve of a smile. She teased back, I know, but it works; she’s a fucking natural at this game. Those nerves are either gone or down so deep, they may as well not exist.
I need to order, so I do. Something light, I’m thinking. The duck mousse to start. Then their grilled oysters with slivers of avocado with mint, lime, and seared habanero chili oil. They have other light things, but my eye catches on something. I pivot for the entree and order the steak au poivre. Rare. With their parsnip duck fat fries. That’s something darkly sexual and bloody, something I can feed her, bite by bite. I can lick her mouth of any juice. Or just because.
Then I order a Bordeaux. White. Red might be more traditional, but I want heavy yet unexpected, something that will suit all three.
As we wait, I lean into her. “You’re doing well, Rosalind. Keep it up.” With that, I slide my hand higher on her leg, between her legs, and stroke her pussy.
It’s obvious what I’m doing, obvious she wants more as she parts her thighs for me. It’s a show, a fucking award-winning one, too. I’m still here doing this and not dragging her into the back to fuck her senseless against the bathroom wall.
If this wasn’t about revenge, I’d take her over and over again in that restaurant bathroom. All positions. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her on her knees, my cock buried in the back of her throat. Rose bent over the sink as I pound her from behind. Rose spread flat against the wall and me, fucking her ass.
Instead, I sit and touch and tease and make sure it’s clear what’s happening. She moans, angling her hips to give me better access. Her hands knead the table, her lids low, but she’s a fast learner and that heated gaze is centered on me.
“Give me your wrist.”
She holds it out to my mouth, and I latch on.
“God… Nikolai…” Her moan isn’t exactly quiet.
Yeah, we’re still here and she’s still looking at me and begging for more with every move of her body. As I said, an award-winning fucking show. Let them take photos. Let them call Finnegan and give him a blow-by-blow account.
I want that.
I want that repulsive fuck to know and see that his precious Thorne, his flesh and blood, belongs completely and utterly to me.