29

My palms are all sweaty, and if I didn't have Dylan practically attached to my left hip, I'd pass out the moment we sat in the Escalade. The metal bracelet connected to the chain that links Dylan and me is my constant reminder, and it works like a fucking pill to my anxiety.

The lights dim and the music pulses. It's a precursor to the fucking nightmare that will begin in less than a couple of hours. Jasmin and Olivia stick to one another like glue, and they join a few others to dance. Jason mumbles details about a few prestigious members that have arrived and I tune him out.

I wiggle my wrist, twisting it in a circular motion, and then I reach for my mother's charm bracelet. I count the charms, then twirl each one between my fingers.

Dylan suddenly moves away, and the motion pulls at my wrist. Confused, I turn to him and tug on it, forcing him closer to me. But he continues to pull me and walks toward a hall that leads to a corridor with private unisex bathrooms. I follow and adjust my face. I don't want it to be obvious that I lack the ability to control my pet.

"Where the fuck are we going?" I whisper.

I don't understand his barely audible words. "Keep your ears open, but turn your eyes away from us. Give me three minutes."

Jason's voice speaks next. "Your three minutes start now."

Dylan guides us into an empty bathroom, and once he locks the door behind us, he presses me against the wall. I'm about to protest, but he silences me with his thumb over my lips and then replaces it with his lips. He moves his hand down my neck, and I know he feels the instant my pulse quickens. It spirals against his touch and I swallow back a whimper. His eyes darken, and the fucker moves a finger over his lips and then he points to his ear. He's reminding me that Jason is listening and his words suddenly make sense. Dylan asked Jason to turn our cameras off but to keep the sound on.

His hand resumes its glide over my skin, causing a shiver to run down my back, and then it wraps all around me, shooting a sensation of desire between my legs. My treacherous body leans into his touch as liquid lava is released from the ventricles of my heart. His touch heats every cell in my body and I swear, steam hisses out of every pore.

He moves my hair off my shoulder, removes my mask, and presses his lips to my collarbone. I'm practically panting and he hasn't even touched me below my neckline. Dylan pinches a few pearls on his way down to my waist, and then he sinks his hand to cup between my legs.

I suck in a breath, shocked, and he mouths, "two minutes". No way is he promising to make me come in only one-hundred and twenty seconds. I blink away my surprise as he moves my thong to the side and slips one finger in and then out. He smiles at me and licks his lips.

Fuck. I'm supposed to keep quiet during all of this? I press my lips together as Dylan nibbles on my shoulder and slowly slides his finger back and forth, smoothing my wetness in a way that makes my cheeks redden with mortification. My body loves what he's doing and I'm frozen, unable to stop him.

What is it with Dylan taking me wherever the fuck he pleases, and why do I let him? Oh right, because I'm a shameless slut. What would my therapist say? Somewhere in the back of my mind, the harlot in me writhes and smiles wickedly; his slut, she purrs.

Damn if she isn't right. I couldn't care less where I'm at as long as I'm in Dylan's arms.

He glides his thumb over my clit suddenly and begins to gently rub the area in small circles. He slips his finger inside me, and then another. So now two fingers pump in and out; at the same time, he keeps a steady rhythm over my clit. A cool and numbing sensation begins to coil inside me, and I know soon it will let loose and take over.

It can't fucking be. I haven't been counting, but I'm sure not even a minute has passed.

"So wet," he mouths. "Open your eyes, little fox."

I don't want to comply, but I belong to him in a way my subconscious has adamantly accepted. My lids flutter open, and I find him staring into my fucking soul, guiding me to complete bliss. My lips feel dry and when I part them, an unabashed moan slips out.

"That's it," he croons. "Come for me."

I bite my lip, forgetting why I was supposed to stay quiet to begin with, and focus on the intense feeling at my center as all the blood in my body goes to where Dylan's fingers work me. I'm practically writhing. My hips move on their own accord, a frenzy taking over as my insides explode with sheer pleasure.

"Yes, good girl."

His voice sounds strained, raspy, and I realize in my euphoric state that I've wrapped the long chain around my fist and I've been tugging on it. I'm choking him.

I'm done. I yell out his name. Yell, and then melt against his hard chest. My pussy pulsates around his fingers, and I think my body is ticking to its rhythm. A hazy, blissful, and lazy feeling encompasses me, and it registers that I'm fucking smiling into the folds of Dylan's shirt.

He slips his fingers out and licks them clean, a satisfied grin splayed on his perfect face. Dylan looks down at his watch and nods approvingly. He unclasps the chain attached to the collar and drapes it over my shoulder. "I'll wait outside."

I glance at my own watch, thirty seconds to spare. Fuck.

Dylan steps out, and I know he's standing on the other side of the door I just locked. I freshen up, a stupid grin on my flushed face, and I stare into the oval mirror above the sink. My makeup is somehow still as it was when Olivia expertly applied it. I smooth my hands over my hair, adjust the faux, pearl-made top, and make sure the skirt slit is where it was meant to be.

The ear canal housing Sara's device beeps softly. "Welcome back, Justice."

Jason. Oh shit. I clear my throat nervously.

"Don't worry, I turned both of your devices off. Dylan would fill my ears with acid if I would've kept connectivity—literally."

I laugh. "Good to know."

Once my mask is on, I open the door and find Dylan guarding the entryway. I know we have to keep up with appearances and that he is here as my pet, but a sensation, similar to a buzz or a high, builds as I gather the chain and clasp it back to his collar.

Jason sighs. "You look like a fucking bodyguard, D. Ease up."

Dylan ignores him. He reaches for my hair and gathers a few strands to place them over my shoulder. "Feeling better?"

My cheeks burn, but I nod. I tug on the chain roughly and the action forces him to bend down slightly. His nostrils flare, and I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. "My pet knows best. Perhaps I'll reward you like the good boy you are."

Dylan's lip furls and he opens his mouth to retort, I'm sure, when Jason interrupts. "You two got company coming your way."

I turn, and behind me, Dylan straightens. My eyes widen when I realize who it is. El cerro, accompanied by Charles, Piper's man.