There was a time when I couldn’t imagine doing either. Being around people having sex would’ve icked me out, and as for doing it myself… I never thought I’d be here. Hell, I didn’t think I’d make it to eighteen—and I wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t for Father Charlie.
A low ache in my chest surfaced, and I reached up to touch the cross hanging around my neck, but it wasn’t there. I wore no jewelry, just a simple black dress. No gloves, no shoes. Just the dress, and from the breeze I felt between my thighs, I could tell I wore no panties, too.
Why was I here? Why did I come here again? I shouldn’t have. There was too much going on, too much I had to deal with right now.
But wasn’t that the point? Wasn’t the whole point of sex to distract you sometimes, to get your mind off of things you didn’t want to think about?
What was I trying to avoid by coming here? I didn’t know. The strange thing was, I couldn’t remember. I was just here. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here, but here I was, nonetheless, in the Playground, oddly alone.
I was alone, that was, until a deep, husky voice spoke behind me: “Looking for me, princess?” I recognized the voice instantly, but that didn’t stop me from whirling around like I was on some soap opera and I’d just heard my lover confessing murder.
Or, you know, whatever they did on those silly shows.
Cade Cunningham stood before me, wearing all black. The sleeves on his shirt were rolled up past his elbows, allowing me to see all his muscles and veiny goodness. His blond hair was a little messy, but his green eyes sparkled. He wasn’t wearing a mask, either—although, now that I was thinking about it, neither was I.
Wait. That was weird. Where did I put my mask? I thought it was against the rules to take it off here…
Before that thought could totally form in my head, Cade nodded to the stage and said, “I think they’re waiting for us.” Whoever he was talking about, I didn’t know; I couldn’t see anyone else in the main room of the club. He offered his hand to me, and I stared at it for a while, wondering if I should refuse.
Going up on that stage wasn’t really me. Showing off, letting people watch. Not my thing. But maybe with Cade… maybe with my dragon man, I could swallow my anxieties like I’d done before with him and just do the damned thing.
I took his hand in mine, neglecting to realize I didn’t have any gloves on, either. What a strange night this had turned out to be.
Cade took me around to the stairs, and he helped me up to the stage. Step by step, the lights turned down low; the whole place looked different from up here, almost like it was another club entirely. If I wasn’t mistaken, it kind of looked like a mixture between the Playground and the club the Black Hand heirs liked.
A bed sat behind Cade, a bed which we would use shortly. He let go of my hand, starting to shed his clothes, and I happened to turn my head toward the rest of the room. To my utter shock, we weren’t alone. I saw quite a few familiar faces, though most of them were blurry to me.
Shay. Dex. Jett. Nix. Slade. Piper. Why they were here, I hadn’t an idea, but it wasn’t their faces that caused me to do a double-take. No, that honor belonged to Zander and Luca, who sat in the front, the closest to the stage. Standing behind them was a very tattooed Damian, smirking as he looked up at Cade and me on the stage.
“What…” I tried to ask what they were doing here; showing off in front of an audience of strangers was one thing, but showing off in front of people I knew—a few I was kind of crushing on—was another.
And then another thought hit me: unless they joined us.
I didn’t know where the hell that thought came from, and my cheeks grew hot when I imagined it. By the time I turned back to look at Cade, he was shirtless, his dragon tattoo on full display, along with the tiny square muscles that made up his abdomen. That man… he did have a perfect body, I had to say. I didn’t know how fortunate I was that night he’d randomly come up to me here, but damn, was I lucky or what?
Cade was busy working on his belt, whipping it off, his stare glued on me. It was like he didn’t care about the audience—or he didn’t even notice them. The moment his belt fell to the floor, something changed. I was closer to the bed than I was before, suddenly between Cade and the bed. His pants were still on, though he wore nothing else.
Although, if I was honest, I’d say how his pants didn’t hide one hint of his erection. Cade was more than ready to throw down with me again, bury his cock between my legs and make me forget why we were here.
Why were we here, again? Ugh, whatever. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the man standing before me and how delicious he looked.
I’d always fought attraction, especially after that night three years ago, but now I couldn’t deny it any more, couldn’t turn my head and pretend the attraction didn’t exist. It was there, and sometimes it was all I could think about. I didn’t want to run away when I thought of Cade touching me, nor did I want to run away when I imagined a few of the others doing the same.
Was that wrong?
No. In the world I lived in, there was no right and no wrong. Things simply were or weren’t. And right now, this thing very much was.
Cade took off his pants and his boxers in one sweep, revealing himself to me. His cock stood tall and thick, as veiny as I remembered. Something deep within me twisted in a way that could only mean one thing: I was as hungry for him as he was for me. I just didn’t have a cock to show it; I had a pussy, and that space between my legs probably grew wet just from watching this man take off his clothes.
Whereas I might’ve struggled with it before, might’ve been a little hesitant, there was no trepidation in me whatsoever as Cade moved towards me, blocking out the audience with his naked body. His hands found my sides, fingers curling into the fabric of my dress. His top half bent down, and his mouth found mine.
I never really thought I enjoyed kissing. I didn’t have much experience with it, go figure, but kissing Cade was enough to make me believe in it. I always thought kissing was kind of gross, basically an exchange of saliva—and it totally still was, except when you were kissing someone you liked, someone you craved more than the air you breathed, you didn’t care. You just didn’t care, because you couldn’t get enough.
That’s how I was with Cade right then. My arms curled around his neck, locking our heads together, as if I feared he would pull away. His strong grip on my sides picked me up and carried me back to the bed, laying me down beneath him, never once breaking the kiss. His mouth was softer than I remembered, and yet it tasted just the same: delicious, ravenous, addicting. I never wanted to stop.
His hands worked at my dress. The zipper was in the back, but that didn’t stop Cade. He bunched up the bottom of the dress past my thighs, exposing the most intimate part of me. As his tongue slipped into my mouth and made every muscle in my body go nuts, one of his hands dipped low between my legs, touching me in a way that made me moan into the kiss.
Oh, Cade knew how to touch me. He knew how to work me with those hands. He knew how to rub, how to fuck me with those fingers and make me come over and over. Drown my body in pleasure, shove me so deep into carnal bliss that I could never find my way out.