Chapter 22
1689words
'Save your amazement," Asher says in my ear. I jump with the thrill of his breath on my skin; he points at the stairs. 'The stage is waiting."
The reminder of what's just ahead makes my poor heart thud quicker. I start jogging in my heels, expecting an usher to tell me to stop. It's funny how quiet things seem in the theater lobby. Shouldn't there be people packed in lines, buying merchandise or picking up tickets at will-call?
Bursting into the main theater, I'm faced with more confusion. Rows upon rows of seats expand below me from the balcony. Asher got us top-tier seats … But he doesn't have any competition, because the room is empty.
'I don't understand," I say, facing him with my brow knotted. 'Where is everyone?"
His smirk is sharp as a dagger. Settling into a plush chair, he spreads his arms over the back. 'We're everyone, Camila. I bought out the whole place."
'You did what?" My God, how much did that cost? I can't even afford a single ticket for myself. 'Why would you buy every seat?"
'So we could be alone." Gesturing with his chin at the stage, Asher's smile widens. 'An intimate performance is the smallest of tonight's surprises."
Intrigued, I try to read his smug expression. Asher relishes in his schemes, even when they involve a romantic date, instead of the downfall of his enemies. I don't have time to untangle his new web of deceit. The stage is calling my name.
Gripping the banister around the balcony, I lean over it. Below, beyond the hundreds of seats, is the half-circle of the Capitol Theater's stage. Massive red curtains drape on either side, mostly shut, but I can see a hint of what's beyond. The flooring is polished like a stone left for eons in the ocean waves. It's more beautiful than I ever dreamed.
'This is amazing, Asher," I say softly. A delighted laugh leaves me; I spin, looking at him with elation. 'Thank you so much for this."
He sinks lower in his seat with a pleased chuckle. 'Here, take a look." I accept the program he holds out and sit down beside him to read it. The list of names performing tonight is printed in bold gold ink. I do a double take when I see a name, and I reread it just to make sure that I'm not dreaming.
'No," I gasp. My eyes bulge as I hit Asher in the shoulder with the program. 'No way! No! Astana Bukharova? She's performing tonight?"
'Layla told me she was your favorite." Asher holds up his hands to defend himself from my pathetic attack, laughing all the while. 'When I saw she'd be in town for this, I snapped up the tickets right away."
'This is beyond anything I could have dreamed up."
The way he looks at me scintillates me to my core. I try to control my pulse, but it's going haywire. I've never had someone gift me with something as immense as this. To think that Asher, of all people, could be so generous … I'm having trouble remembering that I'm supposed to loathe him.
The lights go down suddenly. Holding my breath, I work to keep myself from wriggling. I'm alight with adrenaline. Then the show begins, and when I see Astana pirouetting across the stage, my energy peaks.
Asher leans his body against mine. I can barely see him in the darkness. But I can feel him; his warmth, his breath as it pulls in and pushes out. Gently, he drags his fingertips over my left thigh, the one closest to him. The fabric of the dress is all that separates us.
He brushes it aside. The air lifts goose bumps on my skin as he traces lightly. Asher follows the outline of my kneecap. Reaching higher, he nudges my thigh, spreading me open. He does it without asking … handling me with the confidence of a man who doesn't expect to be denied.
If I'd considered turning him down, the thought evaporates under the rush of relentless arousal that makes my muscles clench. I've found him attractive since the beginning, even though that fact enraged me in our first encounters.
Now, his innate chemistry is impossible to shrug off.
You don't have to pretend like you don't like this. It's okay to have a little fun. It doesn't mean anything. Plus, I'm still obsessing about the single kiss we shared. If the touch of his lips left me drenched with lust, what will his fingers do?
I shiver in anticipation as I push my heels into the floor. He presses closer, his jaw scraping my temple. 'Keep watching the show," he whispers thickly.
Without arguing, I obey his words, chewing my bottom lip as I try to watch the dancers. Asher's fingers draw closer to the nexus of my thighs. I crush the arms of my chair as my breath stops in my throat. He's so close … almost too close. My pussy starts throbbing in anticipation of his touch. But he draws out his torturous touch on purpose. He wants me to beg.
Well, I'm not going to give in.
I bite my lips and hold my breath until the edges of my vision start pulsing in time with the music. I can feel slickness coating my lips, but I'm resolved to stay still.
Both of us know that whoever moves next loses.
Our eyes lock, and I can see that his are laced with need. I catch a reflection of myself in his eyes. The flush on my face is visible even in the dim light. But when the smile curls up on his lips, I know that he's about to win.
Two of his thick fingers glide over the front of my panties. No longer able to hold back, I let out a tiny gasp.
'Shh," he scolds me, his voice thick like honey against my ear. 'Be quiet, we're at the theater."
Asher moves his fingers up and down, both of us feeling my saturated panties. I shift from side to side and start panting under my breath. The dancers are nothing but blurry dots of color now. I'm too caught up in what he's doing to my body to pay attention.
Hooking the wet cloth aside, he strokes his thumb over my slit. I twitch in a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Patiently, he begins pushing a single thick finger into my pussy—inch by delicious inch, until the first knuckle slides past my swollen lips. I'm writhing in my seat, sweating from the ordeal as he buries himself deeper.
Then the finger starts to move, and before I can react, his other hand rises to cup my chin, turning me toward him for a kiss. Our tongues roll together while he pumps his finger faster. Small whimpers bubble up from my throat as he deepens the kiss. The heat is beyond me, my muscles squeezing him as my orgasm rushes to the center.
Suddenly his finger is gone. The abrupt sensation of being empty elicits a whine from me.
'No!" I beg. 'Please, more!"
'More?" he repeats.
My eyes fly open, and I find him on top of me. I see nothing but his egotistical smirk of victory. Asher slips from his chair, blocking my view of the stage for a moment. His powerful hands rest on my knees, and his handsome face dips until he's kneeling at my feet. With effortless ease, he hikes my dress up until my hips are exposed and then slides his hands until he's gripping my knees.
'I don't want you to be disappointed by our date." He spreads my legs far apart to wedge himself inside, and the heat tumbles down from his body in waves. 'And since you asked so nicely …"
Oh, God, what is he ...
Pleasure ripples through my body when he breathes across my naked pussy. I cover my mouth just in time to block an unstoppable moan punching out of my throat. My head is thrown backward against my chair when I feel the heat of his breath. I flex my thighs around Asher's ears. His tongue drags lightly across the dip of my inner thigh, back and forth, before traveling to the other side.
Each swish of his tongue is deliberate and precise. Just enough to come close to my aching clit, but never once touching it. I clench my teeth shut to keep from moaning recklessly in the theater as the music rises and falls. Asher continues his attack, matching the motion of his tongue to the rhythm of the music, the sound of the dancers' feet landing on the stage, and finally to the quickened pace of my own ragged breaths as he brings me closer and closer to the edge.
The torture of him intentionally avoiding my clit slowly drives me mad. I lift my hips, trying to make contact, but his large hands press against my thigh to lock me in my seat as he sighs disapprovingly.
'Watch the show," he growls. I can't see him well in the shadows, but it doesn't matter. The command in his voice is unmistakable, and I—desperate to be satisfied—obey once again.
It takes all of my concentration to watch the stage. A male dancer lifts Astana in the air, spinning her around like she's a bag of feathers. I feel like I'm flying, too … my mind just as disoriented. Is this really happening? I flick my eyes downward, then back up. Is Asher actually about to eat me out? I never in a million years predicted this.
For us to be doing something so sexually charged in such a public place …
It's overwhelming.
