His eyes flashed with something feral, a dangerous thrill, and before I could blink, he’d backed me against the balcony railing, the cold iron biting into my spine. His hand slid down my side, possessive and deliberate, until it gripped my hip with bruising force. “I’m counting on it,” he growled, his other hand snaking under the hem of my dress, his rough fingers brushing the soaked lace of my panties. A gasp escaped me as he pressed against my pussy, the fabric no barrier to the heat of his touch. “Fuck, Ryder, you’re dripping for me already. Tell me you don’t want this. Lie to me, and I’ll stop.”
The challenge hung between us, electric and suffocating, but we both knew I wouldn’t—couldn’t—say no. My breath hitched as his fingers slipped beneath the lace, teasing the slick folds of my cunt, circling my clit with maddening precision. “Bastian,” I hissed, half plea, half curse, my hands fisting in his shirt as my hips bucked involuntarily against his hand. The glass slipped from my grip, shattering on the tiles below, the sound swallowed by the Quarter’s chaos.
“That’s it, bébé,” he rasped, his thumb pressing harder against my clit, sending jolts of raw pleasure through me. “Let me hear how much you need this.” His free hand yanked the strap of my dress down, exposing one breast, my nipple pebbled and aching under the humid breeze. He dipped his head, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud as his fingers plunged into my pussy, two at once, stretching me with a delicious burn. I moaned, loud and shameless, the distant hum of the crowd below only heightening the forbidden thrill. Anyone could look up, see us teetering on the edge of decency, and the thought made my walls clench around him.
But Bastian wasn’t content with just my surrender. He thrived on control, on taking until I had nothing left to give. He pulled back, his lips glistening with the taste of my skin, and reached into his pocket, producing a small, black velvet bag. My pulse spiked as he dangled it before me, his smirk pure sin. “I brought a little something to spice things up,” he said, pulling out a sleek, silver vibrator, the kind that curved just right to hit every nerve. My breath caught, anticipation and trepidation warring within me.
“You’re insane,” I muttered, even as my thighs trembled with want, my eyes locked on the toy glinting in the moonlight.
“And you’re mine to break,” he countered, his voice a low growl as he flipped the switch, the faint buzz cutting through the night air. He pressed it against my inner thigh first, teasing, letting the vibrations ripple through me without touching where I ached most. My head tipped back against the railing, a whimper escaping as he trailed it higher, dragging it over my panties, the lace amplifying every pulse against my swollen clit. “Tell me, Ryder,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear, “who else fucks you like this? Who else makes you drip down your thighs in public, begging for more?”
“No one,” I admitted, the words torn from me as he pushed the vibrator harder against my pussy, the pressure building to an unbearable edge. My nails dug into his shoulders, my body a live wire under his command. But just as the orgasm loomed, sharp and imminent, he pulled the toy away, leaving me gasping, empty, desperate. The sudden absence was a punishment, and his eyes gleamed with sadistic delight.
“Not yet, Ryder,” he purred, pocketing the vibrator as he gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I want you to feel every inch of me first. I want you screaming my name so loud the whole Quarter hears who owns this cunt.” He yanked my panties down in one swift motion, the fabric pooling at my ankles, and spun me around, bending me over the railing. The cool metal pressed into my bare stomach, my tits exposed to the night air as my dress bunched around my waist. My heart thundered with a cocktail of fear and arousal—anyone below could see my naked ass, the glisten of my pussy, and the sheer vulnerability of it made my blood roar.
I heard the rasp of his zipper, the rustle of fabric, and then the hot, blunt head of his cock nudged against my entrance, slick with my arousal. “Fuck, you’re so ready for me,” he groaned, gripping my hips as he teased my folds, coating himself in my wetness. “Beg for it, Ryder. Tell me how bad you need my dick.”