Eyes down. Silence.
As if I can find words with him pushing two fingers into me. I tense, waiting for him to withdraw his hand at the man takes the chair across from us. Jafar doesn’t. He just keeps fucking me slowly with his fingers.
My dress covers me, yes, but the slinky fabric hides nothing of the movement of Jafar’s hand. There is absolutely no question to what he’s doing to me. I don’t know what I expect, but the man glances down, grins, and slouches back in his chair as if he has conversations with couples in the midst of finger fucking every day. Who knows? Perhaps he does.
“Jafar.”
“Hook.”
I try to concentrate on what they’re saying, but Jafar pushes a third finger into me and then starts slowly circling my clit with his thumb. I let my head fall back against his shoulder and focus on keeping my moans from escaping. If he doesn’t stop, I’m going to come right here in front of this stranger, and that knowledge only makes my pleasure spike hotter.
I writhe, but Jafar shifts his free hand to band across my stomach, holding me still as he pushes me closer and closer to the edge. If not for his hard cock against my ass, I wouldn’t have any indication that he’s affected by what he’s doing to me. His dry tone as he speaks with Hook certainly doesn’t give anything away.
He increases the pressure and that’s all I need. My orgasm bows my back and I grip his wrist as I ride his hand, unable to stop myself from grinding down against his fingers, soaking up every bit of pleasure he gives me.
Hook booms out a laugh. “Christ, Jafar, why are you wasting time talking with me when you have her willing to ride you like that?”
“Business first, Hook. Always.”
I open my eyes to find Hook watching me. Watching us. His expression is a little mean, but it reeks of jealousy rather than anything as simple as enmity. He pushes to his feet and his fitted pants don’t hide the fact that he enjoyed the show. He catches my look and grins. “You get bored with this asshole, you’re more than welcome to come play with me.”
Meg is more compelling than any single person has right to be. Hades scares me a little, because I’m sure his charm covers up unplumbed danger, but he’s just as compelling in his own way. Hook is attractive enough. He’s built lean in a way that makes me think of a sword—one wrong move and an enemy won’t even feel the cut until they’re bleeding out on the floor. Just business, and in that way he’s likely no different from Jafar.
The difference is that Jafar cares about me enough not to want to break me open for his pleasure. To Hook, I’m simply a curiosity and I have no doubt he’d be careless with me. Again, nothing personal, but he wouldn’t stick around long enough to ensure I wasn’t bleeding out on the floor from a wound, imagined or otherwise.
Jafar slips his hand free of my dress and presses his fingers to my lips. I instinctively suck them deep, one at a time, tasting myself on his touch. He chuckles when Hook groans and palms the front of his pants. “She’s taken, Hook. Find your own.”
“Too many choices to tie myself down with one.” He grins and then tips a mocking bow to us. “See you around, Jafar. I trust you won’t go back on your word with me the same way you did with Balthazar.”
There’s nothing in Jafar’s voice to indicate the way he tensed beneath me. “Don’t cross me and my word is as good as yours.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Another of those booming laughs and he ambles away.
Jafar kisses my temple. “What did you think of our friend Hook?”
Is that a trick question? How was I supposed to concentrate on anything at all with him touching me like that? I think back, trying to come up with something. “He’s afraid you’re going to attempt to expand your territory and he’s worried he can’t hold his.”
“What makes you say that?” As always, his tone gives nothing away. He could be asking about the weather for all the interest he shows.
I know better by now. “If he was confident, he wouldn’t feel the need to seek you out. He’d make preparations to hold his territory—he’d be a fool not to—but he’d keep all word of those preparations to himself so he’d have a chance at surprising you.”
“Well done.” He sets me on my feet and straightens my dress. “Are you ready for your reward?”
I’m still reeling from the balloon of warmth in my chest that his praise brought into existence. I barely manage to keep from pressing my hand to the spot between my breasts, sure that if I do I’ll feel the physical evidence of the change in temperature there. I lick my lips. “Uh … Yes. Yes, I’m ready for my reward.”