Chapter 8

8

Desmond

Aman steps into Quinn’s path and my life flashes in front of my eyes.

Seriously, I relive the moment I was born, right up to an hour ago when she walked out of the guest room, more beautiful than a woman has the right to be. The ground turns to rubber under my feet and a horn blares in my head.

Nope. Hell no.

Mine.

That girl is mine.

I don’t even remember moving. One second, I’m on the outskirts of the dance floor, the next, I have my hand wrapped around some fucker’s neck, lifting him off the ground.

“It’s not happening,” I rasp through clenched teeth. “She’s taken.”

He’s waving his arms, but no words are coming out of his mouth. Possibly because my fist is cutting off oxygen to his windpipe.

“Desmond!” Quinn cries, her cool hand slipping under my shirt and racing up my chest. There is murder pumping in my blood, but her touch cuts a path through my rage and surrounding sounds drift back to my ears, along with Quinn’s pretty voice. “Please, don’t. I was coming to you. I need you.” She fists my shirt right above my heart and tugs. “Let him go, please?”

With a grunt, I toss him down, watching him scrabble away and vanish into the gaping crowd. “I don’t want you here, Quinn,” I bellow. “I want you home in my bed.”

She comes to stand directly in front of me, cupping the sides of my face. “That’s where I would be if I wasn’t such a dufus.”

“You…what?” Lines form between his eyes, the rage slowly fading there. “You could never be a dufus, sweetheart.”

“This time I could.” Tears form in my eyes. “I didn’t mean it, when I implied I wanted a lesson from you so I could ask out other men. I was lying. It was always about you. I just didn’t know how tell you that…I felt safe and warm with you, Desmond. And I didn’t want our time together to end so fast. Yes, I wanted to be more confident, but it was only you who made me feel that way from the beginning and—”

Desmond’s mouth stamps down over mine, winding our tongues in a long, possessive kiss. His hands trace over the slopes of my shoulders, down my ribcage and settling on my hips, all this while his mouth devours mine with a low moan. I reach up and cross my wrists behind his head, gasping when he yanks me up onto my toes. “Quinn?” he says hoarsely, his harsh breaths pelting my mouth.

“Yes?”

“I’ve wanted to marry you since this morning.”

I laugh tearfully, my chest squeezing. “You have?”

“Yes.” He pulls me tight to his body, his chest rising and falling with unsteady shudders. “Quinn?”

“Yes?”

“I’m in love with you. I’m so fucking in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too,” I whisper into his neck, meaning it with my whole heart.

“Oh thank Christ,” he says on an exhale. A beat passes before he continues. “I’ve never been like this. Felt like this. I don’t know how to handle what you do to me, sweetheart. I’m going to be protective and possessive…and fuck it, I might stalk you. I don’t know how I’m going to let you out the door for work every morning. I’m already stressed about it.”

“It’s okay, we’ll work on it together.”

“Yes. Together.” He presses our foreheads together and nods. “My Quinn. How was I living without you all this time?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” I let him sway us a moment, then I slowly drag my tongue along the inside of his collar. “Take me home, Desmond.”

His voice is little more than a scrape of raw sound when he speaks in my ear, his hand on the small of my back, pressing me into his erection. “I can’t make it home, Quinn.”

Tingles start in the center of my tummy and spread outward, like ripples in a pond. My nipples tighten like bolts and his beard on my neck is an assault on my senses. A delicious one. “Then take me somewhere. Anywhere.”

Desmond levers me off the ground and carries me away from the dance floor. Over his shoulder, I see Steph and Melissa giving me encouraging waves and I return them, but my sole focus is on this man. What he’s going to do to me. How we’re going to make love in a public club. Surely that must be illegal, but I can’t summon the will to care. Nothing outweighs my hunger to have this man inside me, where he’s meant to have been all along.

He doesn’t stop walking until we reach the darkest corner of the club. There are a ton of people dancing, the floor packed tightly with bodies, and these clubbers are noticeably drunker than the ones in front. A burgundy booth lines the wall and only flashes of it can be seen when the lights hit it just right. That’s where Desmond takes me.

He takes a seat in the farthest, most hidden corner of the banquette, yanking my legs open in a straddle and settling me on his lap. “Fuck,” he breathes against my lips. “I’m so hot for it, Quinn. Hump my cock a little and see what I’m talking about.”

As if I can stop myself. The juncture of my thighs is already directly on top of his hard shaft, so all I have to do is circle my hips and a sharp flash of lust rocks me. “Desmond,” I moan into the curve of his neck. “We didn’t practice this position.”

“Practice starts now. By this time next week, you’re going to be an expert at all the positions, Quinn. Especially the one where you lie down, open your thighs wide and let me eat.” He tugs down the top of my tube dress and closes his mouth around one of my nipples, pulling deeply. “God, you’re a fucking meal, little girl.”

His mouth drags across my chest and gives my other breast the same attention, his hands busy between our bodies, ripping his zipper down. He grunts into our kiss and guides my hand to his now-exposed shaft where it stands straight up, wedged between my thighs. So thick. So alive. I want so badly to pull the tight dress up to my waist so I can rub myself on his erection, but the whole dance floor is behind us, and I don’t want to expose my butt. Desmond seems to read my mind, however. He leans up and removes his jacket, stretching his T-shirt across those incredible muscles, all the while chuckling at my reaction to his flexing body.

Finally, he positions the garment over my back, shielding me from view.

“We can’t help this, can we, Quinn?” Desmond breathes against my ear, his capable hands finding my bottom and kneading it, rocking me forward, sweet nothing separating my weeping flesh from his hardness. “No, we can’t. We have no choice. It’s fuck my girl or die.”

I’m nodding, my pulse wild in my ears, seemingly louder than the music. My inner walls are clenching tight, tight, like a fist, seeking out a part of Desmond I’ve never even experienced before. Still, my body knows. It yearns. And I give in to the base urges I only understand somewhat, flattening my palms on the back of the booth on either side of Desmond’s head and writhing my soft flesh all over his swollen sex.

“Good girl. Best girl.” His middle finger slides down the split of my bottom, rubbing up and down, over the rim of my back entrance. Tingles ripples up my spine, sparking excitement in my nerve endings. Touching me there seems to turn him on even more and his hips start to pump upward, dropping, thrusting, dropping, making my breasts bounce with every lustful movement. “Soaking wet. So ready for it, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whine, trying to open my thighs to get closer, even though it’s impossible. Just a little more friction and I could let the orgasm take me.

Desmond has other plans.

His right hand lets go of my backside, circling his shaft once more, dragging it to the gate of my virginity and pausing. “All this time, I thought you needed me to take it slow. Now I know the truth, don’t I? When we walked into your apartment, I should have dropped you down on this dick and given you a hard first ride, huh, sweetheart?”

My mouth is open and panting on his neck. “Yes.”

“No more waiting.” He impales me on the first couple inches, groaning through clenched teeth. “No rubber either. Let’s make me a daddy on the first try, sweetheart. I want everything with you—and I want it now.” Having worked enough of his sex inside me, Desmond falls back against the booth and repositions his hands on the cheeks of my butt, wedging me the rest of the way down, inch by inch, until I’m fully seated. “Oh fuck, Quinn. Fuck. Yes. Tell me you’re okay. It’s so goddamn tight.”

“I’m okay,” I sob. I expect pain, but there is nothing but huge, hot pressure. Every iota of me is filled to capacity and my body feels possessed. My thighs are glued to his rough hips, my nipples chafing on his T-shirt. Owned. Furthermore, I’m having sex in a public place with this big, beautiful man and the newfound confidence that has been building all day overflows. How could it not when he already looks like he’s struggling to maintain control? Because of me?

Biting my lip, a thrill rolling down my spine like a metal ball, I curl my hands in the neckline of his shirt, lean back and work my hips in slow grinds, my breath catching at the way his eyes darken, his jaw popping. “Fucking me like you want twins up in that belly, sweetheart. Is that what you’re asking me for? I got more than enough firepower in these balls to get you there. Just nod your pretty head.”

Do I want Desmond to fill me so deeply that we’re forever joined?

Yes.

God, yes, I want that more than anything.

And I’m already nodding to let him know.

A shudder passes through his barrel chest and I sense his control snapping. I’m only given the opportunity to roll my hips one more time, sliding his manhood in and out of my slick flesh, when Desmond throws me down on my back, right there on the booth.

I see nothing but lights flashing on the ceiling.

Bass pumps all around us. Conversations spike over the music.

But I’m only aware of Desmond’s grunts as he fucks me hard and raw and rough on the booth of the club, my back sliding up and down on the leather. The act of being claimed is so intense, I arch my back and scream, my fingernails ripping down the flexing breadth of his back, but he only continues to seat himself inside me, over and over, grunting expletives into my ear.

“You’re going to bring this tight, little pussy home to me every fucking night. Understand me, sweetheart?” He rams himself deep and holds. “I’m not playing games.”

“Every night,” I whimper, wrapping my legs around his hips, clinging for dear life. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t. I’ll never stop hitting this. Never. I’m going to hunt you down, day and night.” He drops his mouth into my neck and kisses the skin there tenderly, once, twice. “I’ll never stop loving you, either, Quinn. My heart is yours and you can’t give it back. You hear me?”

“I don’t want to,” I whisper, his mouth finding mine, giving it a thorough, groaning sweep of his tongue. “Desmond…I love you. I love you.”

My declaration makes his shaft flex inside me, his muscles stiffen. “Hearing that makes me need to come. Ahhhh, shit, sweetheart. You had to say it.” He starts to bear down on me faster, faster, his hips slapping mine, tunneling his thickness inside me, creating slippery wet friction that drives my pleasure higher, higher, higher. “Say it again when you’re close.”

I drop my thighs wider, uncaring who can see us. Unconcerned if hundreds of people are watching Desmond take my virginity on the booth of a club, desperate and sweating. “I’m close. I love you. I’m close.”

Another shudder passes through him, this one violent and his thrusts turn almost mean, his muscular arms caging my head in, his jaw slack, eyes unseeing, as he drives into me in a frenzy. “I love you, Quinn. I love you.”

Stars dance in front of my eyes a moment before my climax crests and then all my senses deplete, apart from touch. I can feel only the tumult of pleasure originating between my legs and winding around my bones, throughout my belly, my inner thighs. Oh Lord. Oh my Lord, it’s the most exquisite feeling in the world and I get to share it with Desmond as he follows behind me a moment later, bellowing into the crook of my neck, his hips jerking with involuntary spasms. And the hot stickiness…it flows and coats everything. My insides, my outsides, the booth and parts of my dress.

It’s not just physical release, though that would be extraordinary in itself. There is also a lessening of pressure in my chest, as if my heart needed to connect in this one final way with my soul mate or it might have been crushed.

Now I’m complete.

Now we’re complete.

Desmond kisses my mouth, lingering there for long moments, before sitting up. He brings me with him, pulling me onto his lap and holding me like a priceless artifact.

“Mine forever,” he says, laying my hand on his heart. “Yours forever.”

“Forever,” I whisper back, my eyes damp.

I never find out who saw us that night, because Desmond tucks my face into the crook of his neck and carries me out the back exit door, out into the night and straight into our happily ever after…