The night is still young though, by Trinity Ball standards, and many attendees start wandering off to parties while others stay put, content to wait a few hours for the pubs to open. According to Ronan’s girlfriend, some students party hard from the day before the ball to the day after, and it’s not unusual to spot students in ballgowns and tuxes in pubs across the city.
“What do you want to do?” Dillon asks, breathing tequila fumes across my face.
“Ride your cock like a porn star all night long,” I reply without hesitation.
“And the prude has left the house!” Jamie pipes up, looking highly amused. I flip him the bird, and he cranks out a laugh.
Ash spits her beer all over the path. “TMI, Viv. Holy fuck. I did not need to hear that. Please, someone scrub my ears out.” Jamie whispers something in her ear, and she levels him with a glare. Dillon watches the interaction with a muscle popping in his jaw.
“Dil.” I tug on his sleeve, dragging his gaze away. “What are we doing?”
He clasps both sides of my face. “You’re sure you want to do this with me tonight?”
“One hundred percent.”
He stabs me with an intense look I feel all the way to my core. “C’mon, then. Let’s get out of here.”
50
“Hurry, Dillon,” I pant, holding up my hair so he can unbutton the back of my dress. A trickle of sweat rolls between my breasts, and my skin is a little clammy. We couldn’t find a taxi, so we ran all the way back to my apartment, both of us anxious to be together.
“I’m trying. Could you have made these buttons any smaller?” He curses, and I giggle. “Done,” he adds a few seconds later.
Wiggling out of the dress, I let it pool at my ankles before turning to face him in just my blue lace thong and my silver Louboutin sandals.
“Fuck. Look at you.” His eyes rake up and down my body, and I can almost feel the sensual caress. “We need to capture this moment.” Kneeling in front of his duffel bag, he pulls out his phone. “Can I take a photo?”
I chew on the inside of my mouth, not sure if this is a good idea.
“I promise I won’t show it to anyone. This is just for me.” He reassures me, flashing me one of his infamous panty-melting grins, and I’m a goner. “Ammo for the spank bank,” he adds. Cupping his crotch, he strokes his hard-on over his pants.
Jeez. As if a girl could resist. “Okay, but from the neck down.” I don’t want my face shown in case it ever ends up in the wrong hands.
He snaps a pic, drops his cell on top of his bag, and closes the distance between us. Leaning down, he plants a row of drugging kisses along my jawline and my neck. He tweaks my nipples, hardening them instantly. “You looked like Hollywood royalty at the ball,” he says, bending his head to suck my nipple into his mouth. “Tonight, you’re my queen.” I’m guessing his use of queen over princess is on purpose, and his thoughtfulness only makes me crave him more.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I complain, pushing his shoulders. “Strip for me, baby.”
He levels me with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Undress me.” Standing up straight, he stares at me, challenging me with a heated look, waiting for me to make the next move.
“Gladly,” I purr, slipping the jacket off his shoulders and tossing it on the back of the chair. Next, his shirt and bow tie come off, and I take my time exploring the dips and curves of his abs, the broad expanse of his chest, and the defined muscles in his biceps and arms.
My fingers trail over the ink covering both his arms, skimming across Celtic symbols, skulls, crosses, roses, and knives. Musical notes and song lyrics are inked across his chest. Walking around him, I examine the scorpion on his back. He jumps when my fingers move along the intricate drawing. “This is gorgeous. Does it have any special significance?”
He shrugs, but his muscles seem tight until I start pressing kisses into his back, kneading the corded knots in his shoulders, easing the tension I find there.
“The scorpion represents a lot of things that have meaning to me,” he says after a few beats.
“Like what?” I trail my fingers around to his front and slowly open his pants. His erection brushes against my hand as I work the zipper down.
“Determination, rebirth, resilience.”
“I like it,” I whisper, moving around to his front. “I love all your ink.” Tugging his pants down along with his boxers, I kneel in front of his straining cock with saliva pooling in my mouth. “That’s not all I love,” I tease, grinning up at him.