Her body temperature spiked up a notch, and her eyes darted around the room. “Mark, no. I can’t.” But the sound of her voice was breathy, high, and revealing.
He grinned in that wicked way of his. “Can’t you? You sure about that?”
Oh, he was so sure of himself. Knew exactly how far to push her. But the gleam in his eyes nailed her right in her core, promising sinful pleasure whether she obeyed or disobeyed.
Fuck it.
She dipped the strawberry in the chocolate. His eyes on her mouth, she brought the fruit to her lips, let her tongue dart out and lick the top. A bit of chocolate dripped and she caught it with her tongue, imagining how his cock would drip when he was excited. The image made her sex pulse and she squeezed her thighs together, painfully aware of her nakedness beneath her dress.
She let her eyelids lower as she tasted the chocolate, leisurely licking around and around the pointed tip until the chocolate had dissolved in her mouth.
“Fuck, Ruby.”
She loved his eyes on her; the only other time she’d felt comfortable under such scrutiny was when Ash had looked at her through the lens of his camera. But this was so different. With Mark, there seemed to be an energy between them that pulsed like electricity.
She took a bite of the strawberry. The sugary fruit burst into her mouth, and she felt a corresponding tug between her legs. Tart, juicy, sweet.
She met his gaze and paused at the look in his eyes. Gone was the playful twenty-nine-year-old musician. Before her was a man, a gorgeous man who radiated confidence. And lust. Lust for her.
Fuck me.
She wanted him. Now. She took another unhurried bite of the strawberry and didn’t care if her eyes were begging for it, for him.
But his hands were steady when he picked up another piece of fruit and dipped it into his glass of champagne. “Spread your legs a little for me, Ruby.”
“W-what?”
He handed her the strawberry. “Do it.”
She was too turned on and too lost in this entire crazy night to deny him. So, pulse hammering, she inched her knees apart.
“Good girl. Now take the strawberry and touch yourself with it. Touch that gorgeous pussy of yours.”
Her fingers trembled as she took the piece of fruit.
“No one is watching, Ruby.”
How had he known she’d been wondering that? He always seemed to know what was on her mind, and she didn’t even look around to see if he spoke the truth. She didn’t need to. Instead she reached between her thighs and gently touched the strawberry to her damp flesh. She nearly moaned.
From a fucking strawberry. But the cold bite of the champagne was a shock against her hot skin and she felt her body react, felt herself melting into the upholstered Ritz-Carlton dining chair.
“Now tell me, baby. Aren’t you glad you took off your panties?”
“Don’t,” she managed, but she loved it and she spread her legs a tiny bit more.
“Then tell me. Tell me I was right.”
She slid the strawberry a bit higher, her legs going slack. “You were right. You were so right.”
“Are you wet, then, baby?”
“Yes.” And it was true. She was slippery. Slippery when wet. The thought made her giggle, and she touched her clit with the tickly tip of the berry.
“God, Ruby. You go so easily.”
“Go?”
“Yeah. You fight so hard, but then, fuck. You belong to me in an instant.”
“No… I don’t belong to anyone.” But here she was, wearing no panties, masturbating under the table with a strawberry at one of the most formal restaurants in northern California. “You fucking bastard.” She twirled the strawberry in her wetness, coating it, loving the way the tiny bumps caressed her swollen clit, even loving the fact that someone might wonder what she was doing with her hand beneath the table. She could climax from just that, from him getting her to this point.
“Give it to me.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “What?”
“The strawberry. Feed it to me.”
“No,” she said with a smile. “This feels too good to stop.”
“You disobedient girl.”
“Sometimes,” she agreed. Then she waved the fruit under his nose. His shoulders looked tight, his biceps flexed as he watched her. The veins in his neck visibly pulsed. She paused with the strawberry just beyond his lips, and when she finally saw him breathe, she moved as if to feed him. His mouth opened, eager as a baby bird. But then she pulled back. Bringing the strawberry to her own lips, she opened her mouth and bit through the tart flesh of the fruit, tasted her own juices mixed with the sweet berry.
She ate the whole thing, tasting, chewing, swallowing. Smiling. Her lips burned from his gaze. Yeah, she would pay for this later.