Latvis Security Services

by Lexie Ray

  She even enjoyed the color and pageantry of the actors, even though she still didn’t understand a single thing that they were staying. Mads had yet to let go of her hand. His touch bathed her hand with warmth, his fingers steady and strong. Every so often, he would begin to trail one fingertip along her knuckles and along her fingers. She no longer doubted that he knew exactly what he was doing. Now that the secret of her attraction had been brought to light, he took great enjoyment out of exploiting it at every available opportunity. But, even though she knew exactly what he was doing, it didn’t stop her body’s reaction.

  Heat pressed under Willow’s skin, rising with every stroke, burning up her mind until it was hard to think about anything beyond Mads’ touch. He was slowly, surely, and with great purpose, doing what he could to toy with her brain. And she really wanted to get her own back.

  Her hand was still pressed tightly against the strong expanse of his thigh. She could feel the muscles bunch and stretch as, every so often, he would stretch out his leg. Willow flattened her hand against him, enjoying the feel of muscles playing under her fingertips.

  It was so soft, so quick, that she almost missed it. A sharp intake of breath. A slight gasp. It was more of a reaction than she had ever been able to provoke out of Mads before. The thought passed thought her head, followed by a flood of contradictions. She had managed to get a storm of emotion from him, of action and reaction, last night. He had been drunk, she reminded herself, but that didn’t help to ease the rapid pace of her heartbeat. If anything, it increased it. Because now he wasn’t drunk. He was completely, unflinchingly, sober. And she had made him react.

  The knowledge made warmth flood under her skin, sparking and twisting in her gut, fueling her boldness. She spread her fingers wide, allowing her pinkie finger to creep higher along his thigh. Mads drew in a deep breath, his chest expanding, his leg stretching. But he didn’t stop her. Didn’t move away.

  Below them, a singer took center stage, her heavenly voice rising to an astonishing note, filling every inch of air and rattling the very core of Willow’s being with its force. Emboldened, she slipped her hand a little higher.

  The side of her pinkie grazed against the solid bulge of his crotch. Mads jerked with the slightest thrust of his hips. He tried to stifle the movement, to hide every single trace of his reaction, but being so close to such an intimate area of his body, there was no disguising it.

  The singer continued, a dozen other voices joining her as the musicians added to the intoxicating sound. Emboldened, Willow moved her finger, tracing the line of his member through the thin material of his pants. Mads had an impressive amount of willpower. He seemed to pride himself on his restraint and his constant, unwavering control. But, no matter how well he could organize his life, he couldn’t suppress his body’s reaction.

  His cock twitched at the attention. Using only the very tip of her smallest finger, Willow began to stroke him. Slowly. Leisurely. Mapping out the length of his cock without venturing any further.

  Mads swallowed thickly and inched his legs wider, allowing her greater access. She took it greedily. Of course, she didn’t want him to know that. Where would be the fun? She slipped her ring finger deeper between his thighs, toying with his more sensitive area. His eyes fluttered. In a barely-noticeable movement, he rolled his hips up, seeking out a greater contact that she denied him.

  His hand still cupped hers, his fingers twitching as he fought the urge to squeeze. The tiny movements soon grew as Willow curled her index finger back up, for the first time touching the neglected side of his cock. His grip tightened and she realized just how badly he wanted to grab her hand and move it to where he needed it the most.

  Her first thought had been to use her pinkie and index finger to flank his cock, to stroke both sides at once. His girth rendered that plan impossible. He was far too wide. Stretching her fingers to their limit, she used her pinkie finger and index finger. The extra effort proved worth it.

  Mads trembled. A slight, brief shake encased his body and staggered his breath. The tip of his tongue flicked out, briefly sweeping over his bottom lip, allowing Willow just the slightest hint of white teeth. His free hand clenched at his other armrest, fingers tightening until his knuckles were white peaks under his skin. The grip seemed to help him steady himself and he released his breath in a long sigh and became still once more.

  Willow smiled softly to herself, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he refastened his mask of control back into place. It seemed like a personal challenge that she wasn’t about to let slide. Increasing the pressure, she slowly dragged her fingers from base to tip. Upon reaching the crown, she squeezed. The reaction was instant. A staggered breath. A choked groan. His cock swelled, growing under her touch until it strained instantly under the expensive, soft material of his suit pants.

  It was such a strong reaction that Willow couldn’t help but tease him a little. She loosened her grip until her touch was barely there. On insistent instinct alone, Mads tightened his grip on her hand, pushing her hand back down before he could stop himself.

  It was obvious the moment his higher thinking skills returned. Releasing his grip, his hand fluttered away. A second later, it became blindingly obvious that he didn’t know what to do with it afterwards. His beautiful, long, vibrant fingers drifted from the armrest to his thigh to back of Willow’s chair. Eventually they found an awkward place just hovering in the air, aimless, trembling, as she resumed her pace, grip tighter than before.

  With every passing stroke, Mads’ breathing grew deeper, and his eyelids drifted closed. His jaw clenched as he held tightly to the last shreds of his control. Leaning in, Willow arched her neck until she was able to whisper into his ear.

  “My hand’s cold.”

  Mads smiled tightly. “If feels quite delightfully warm to me.”

  “Still.” She took advantage of the word to let her the tip of her tongue flick out across his earlobe. The armrest groaned under his ever-tightening grip. “Keep me warm?”

  It was all the invitation she needed for Mads to cover her hand with his own. She let the weight of it press her hand down until her palm was flattened against his cock. A sharp gasp exploded from Mads’ chest, sounding both like relief and a desperate cry for more. Finally, Willow allowed her hand to wrap around him as much as his pants would allow. She squeezed, and his thighs began to tremble. He was hard and hot and so delicious against her palm that she lost her desire to tease him. Her motions grew faster, spurred on by his loosening control. He was getting close. She could see it within his hitched breath and tightening grip.

  “Mads!”

  The happy voice cracked through their serenity and Willow pulled her hand away sharply. Mads growled, crossing his legs to hide his straining erection as Penelope came into sight.

  Chapter Seven

  Mads clenched his jaw as Penelope edged around the chairs and into his field of vision. The throbbing ache within his legs dwindled at the sight of her but could in no way quell the twisting ache in the pit of his stomach. He crossed his legs, pressing his thighs together until it hurt.

  “What can we do for you, Penelope?” he said tightly, trying to hide the thready waver in his voice.

  Judging by the smile that crept onto Willow’s face, it must have still been slightly noticeable. It surprised him when this thought didn’t leave him mortified. In fact, he felt a certain twist of pride. Pride that he a woman such as Willow would want to touch him. That he could bring forth a level of desire that couldn’t be quelled by situation alone. It made it easier for him to meet Penelope’s gaze. That, and the annoyance that stemmed partly from his frustration and partly from how incredibly rude her bursting into their theater box was.

  “I couldn’t just sit still, knowing how lonely you must be up here.”

  “I’m here,” Willow said.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Penelope said with a sweet smile and a dismissive tone.

  Still torn between the desire for her to leav
e and the inclination to brag, Mads’ voice turned sharp. “I was actually quite enraptured.”

  Willow’s smile grew a little wider. “How rude of me,” she said abruptly. “Would you like a seat?”

  His stomach twisted as Willow scooted forward and pointed down at her own seat.

  “I am sure that Penelope’s party is eager for her return.”

  “I came here alone,” Penelope said.

  “You did?” Willow smiled at him. “Well, now you have to stay with us. We wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

  “I am certain that the performance we are currently talking over will supply enough stimuli to hold her attention.”

  “How could anything compare to your company?”

  Mads scowled at her wide, teasing grin. The task grew harder when she patted him on his leg. The first three taps were easy and friendly. The last one ended with a quick, tight, squeeze. His body swelled at the touch and he tightened his legs once more. Willow seemed entirely too pleased with the reaction and whipped around to Penelope with a sign.

  “Would you like to switch seats?”

  Penelope was quick to accept the offer. Mads, just as fast, assured Willow that it wouldn’t be necessary. There were plenty of other seats.

  “I feel like I’ve been hogging you,” she said with another few taps, each one progressing higher along his thigh until the tips of her fingers once again brushed against his aching cock. His body ignited in sparks, reacting to the promise of more even though he knew it wasn’t coming.

  With that, she was gone, drifting away with a ripple of silk and sequence. The space was soon filled by Penelope and Mads released a long, low sigh. Penelope didn’t notice his disappointment or his frustration. His eyes followed Willow as she drifted around the end of the seat. She sat in the back row. The position left her still visible, out of the corner of her eyes, but only when he was looking towards Penelope.

  Leaning back into her chair, Willow smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with laughter. In the dim shade of the room, Mads didn’t notice her hands at first. He had thought she had simply folded them neatly in her lap. But she was toying with them, brushing the fingers of one hand against the other in a mimicry of how she had been touching him.

  It was childish, he told himself sharply, repeatedly. Something he should have lost all sensitivity to after he surpassed his teens. Perhaps it was because he had been deprived of such things in his own past. But no matter what reason told him, the immature gesture did affect him.

  Mads shuffled uncomfortably as his cock pressed against his zipper until he could barely stand the tension. The urge grew to press the heel of his hand against his swell, aching for any kind of pressure. He clenched his hands around the armrest, breathed sharply through his nose, and tried to focus on the constant stream of words pouring from Penelope’s mouth. It proved impossible to think of anything beyond Willow’s smile and her slow- moving fingers.

  ***

  Willow bit her lip to try and keep herself from giggling wildly. She had figured that growing up in a castle might have denied Mads some of the funnest aspects of his formative years. Although, she hadn’t anticipated such a strong reaction. It opened up dozens of opportunities to mess with him, and she spent the remainder of the act trying to organize them all into a plan of attack.

  As soon as intermission arrived, Willow made a quick excuse and slipped out the door, leaving behind a very pleased Penelope and a glaring Mads. She quickly used the restroom and then spent her time wandering the halls, contemplating if she could convince Mads to stop for ice cream on the way back. If he was riled up enough that a simple finger slip could get him squirming in his seat, she couldn’t wait to see what he might do watching her playing a few games with her tongue.

  It was a thought that made her chuckle as she opened the door. It morphed into an abrupt gasp as a hand wrapped around her wrist and hurled her into the darkest corner of the box room. Shrouded by a decorative curtain, pressing her back flush against the velvet wall, Mads cupped her face with both hands and ruthlessly began to plunder her mouth with his tongue and teeth.

  Willow’s first instinct was to fight against the sudden onslaught of sensation. But he drifted one hand down her body and balled the other within her hair, yanking just hard enough to make sparks scatter across her scalp. Her mouth opened with a gasp and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss with a hungry growl. She melted against the wall, pinned by the sheer expanse of hot, strong, unmovable flesh and muscle. Grasping his arms for some center of gravity, she couldn’t keep up with his starved demand. So instead she just allowed him to take what he pleased, a move that made him all the more wild.

  In that moment, Willow truly hated her dress. She wanted something with a thinner fabric. Something that would allow her to feel him with only the smooth pull of satin across her body. Mads pushed his hips against her and she would have signed over her soul for a dress with a slip. Something that would have allowed her to hook her leg over his hip and shift the deliriously good pressure of his cock to where she wanted it the most. To the needy, slick ache that was now burning between her thighs.

  Finally, he released her mouth. They both panted, sucking as much air into their deprived lungs as they possibly could. Mads moved his attention over her exposed shoulders, lapping and sucking and scraping his teeth lightly over her skin.

  “Penelope is still here,” he whispered into Willow’s ear a second before he nipped it.

  The advance warning didn’t help her completely hold down the gasped moan that wanted to work its way from her throat. Mads was kind enough to place a hand over her mouth to help her remain silent.

  “While we sit through the second act, I want you to think of me touching you. I want you to think about me slipping one of my hands, the hands that you admire so much, down between your breasts. Think of me cupping you, my thumb playing against your pert nipple until you beg me for more.”

  Willow tilted her chin, trying to wiggle her mouth free. His fingers pulled, one by one, over her lips until only his thumb remained. Without thought, she swiped her tongue over the pad of his thumb, coxing the digit into her mouth. Mads shivered and pressed his hips harder against her.

  “Unfortunately, your rather remarkable dress would prevent me from touching you in the manner you would beg me to. It would have to be removed.” He grazed the sharp tip of one tooth along her ear before whispering, “I want you to sit there and watch the performance, with your beautiful dress and teasing smile, and imagine yourself naked, my hand between your thighs, slick with your desire. I want you to imagine that and know that, if Penelope was not here, that image would be a reality.”

  With a final searing kiss, Mads pulled away. Without his body to hold her up, Willow slumped back against the wall, heaving each breath so deeply that she was sure she was about to pop free from her bodice. A foot away, Mads was breathing with matching ferocity. For all the emotions she had seen Mads display, nothing compared to the ferocious hunger that burned within his eyes. It was primitive and wild. Almost predatory in the sheer intensity that lucked within his gaze.

  Penelope’s voice once again shattered the moment. Mads’ shoulders hunched, his lips pulling into a snarl, and he tilted his head towards the invasion. The wildness that clung to him thickened the air until Willow could barely breathe. To see Mads shed his perfect persona for the sake of lust was, without a doubt, the most erotic thing that that she had ever witnessed.

  Taking a deep breath, he straightened, his face rearranging itself into the serene mask that he always presented to the world. Two quick pulls of his hands and his hair was perfectly arranged once more.

  “Yes, Penelope,” he said, his voice only slightly strained.

  “What are you doing back there?” The woman laughed as she came around back from around the curtain.

  She stopped in her tracks, her eyes suspiciously flickering between them. Willow managed to keep herself from shuffling, but wasn’t able to fight off the bright
blush that ran across her cheeks. Mercifully, the lights dimmed to announce that the next part of the performance was going to begin. While it helped her to retain some of her dignity, it was nowhere near dark enough to keep Mads from noticing.

  For no other reason than to stoke the flames burning within her cheeks, Mads allowed a wicked smile to stretch his lips. He dropped his eyes over her, hungry and approving, lingering on the crux of her legs. Just where he had promised to touch her. Willow’s mind spiraled with the possibilities, the memory tantalizing her lips until she had to lick them to soothe the tingling. His smile grew, revealing a flash of pearly white, perfectly straight and slightly sharp teeth. Willow was oddly transfixed by the rare sight. Memories of them scraping across her skin made her shiver in anticipation.

  “Mads,” Penelope laughed awkwardly. “It’s about to begin. We should take our seats.”

  “Of course,” Mads said, his gaze fixed on Willow’s. His smile took on a wolfish edge. “I have just finished explaining to Willow what delights to expect. I would not want her to miss a single second.”

  With that, he turned from her. His demeanor instantly changed. His smile became its normal tight lipped expression as he met Penelope’s gaze. He raised one hand. It was a simplistic gesture, one to merely indicate that Penelope should lead the way. But he took care to position his hand just so, allowing the dim light to play across his fingertips, accentuating their length. Their thickness. The way they so beautifully tapered off. He curled them softly and Willow’s insides ached, as if she could feel them deep within her. It was going to be a very long second half.