The lights dimmed into a red hue, casting shadows on the dance floor of the club. Sensual music played softly in the background, joined by the clicking of a strippers heels as she stepped onto the stage.
She was beautiful—-dressed in a flimsy and transparent material, covering a body that I could only dream to have. She had caught the attention of every one present. Mine included.
All pairs of eyes were on the captivating woman. All—except one.
This particular nightclub was located in the commercial part of town and filled with questionable characters. Newcomers weren't frequent.
The man currently looking at me was definitely now a regular.
I raised my head, eyes locking with the stranger before averting my gaze back to the woman. He had the body of a fighter. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos on his strong forearms. He was leaning on the railing, both hands wrapped around a clear drink. Even though his face was partially hidden in the shadows, I could tell he was handsome.
And he looked like he wanted something from me.
After a few moments of enjoying the dance, and an extra few sips of my Hennessy—I had forgotten the stranger. Until the music stopped and I sensed his presence before I saw him. I didn't like the fact I didn't see him coming.
He had stealth and he was there, a mere foot away. I was used to being approached by men, but not the type that looked at me the way he did.
He was better looking up close. The finest fucking man I have ever seen. His eyes were dark,and his tattoos darker, intricate patterns ran down his neck, all the way to his fingers wrapped around clear glass. The ring on his index tapped the glass as he sat down next to me. His arms spreading out to lay on the backrest of the sofa as he made himself comfortable.
Bold. I liked it.
I turned my body to him, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes dropped down to my thighs, taking in the sight of the tattoo on my skin as a smirk formed on his lips. I could tell that he liked what he saw, and liked it even more when I shifted closer to him.
I took his wrist, guiding his hand to my face, he watched me carefully, not taking his eyes off me. Just as I had thought.
"Water?" I asked retreating my hand.
He wasn't acting out of drunken confidence. He was clearheaded, sober and the agenda on his face was loud and clear.
"I dont like drinking", he said, his voice deep with an accent I wasn't expecting. Italian.
A chill ran down my spine, and it wasn't because of how good he sounded. He had power radiating off him, unlike anything I've felt in before. Scars adorned his knuckles, but covered in black ink. His hands were steady, too steady to be considered mormal. The stranger was trained - in what? I had no clue.
"Me too" I replied, taking a sip of my Hennessy. He smiled at me. Showing me the deep dimple on his cheek. The innocent little dent was childlike, something that I didn't expect on a man built like him.
"What do you want?"I asked, deciding to skip all the formalities. I reached over, setting my glass onto the table.
"I think you know", he whispered lowly, his eyes darting between mine and my lips. The stranger raised his hand, lifting it to stroke my cheek with his knuckles. His eyes were lit with amusement, knowing that I was falling into his trap.
My heart rate sped up, and I swallowed away the nerves that I refused to show. He couldn't have known that I wasn't the confident person I was portraying. Fuck, it was my first time talking to a man for longer than thirty seconds in as long as I could remember. I was an internal wreck.
"Yeah?" I said, nearly shivering when his fingertips stroked the skin on the side of my neck. A man, one that I had just fucking met, was succeeding at making my body react to his touch. I didn't even know his name—but I didn't care. My pussy throbbed, and that's when I knew that he was the one I wanted to fuck.
"What's your name?" he asked, drawing an unknown pattern on my skin, his eyes following his fingers.
"What's yours?" I asked, inching closer to him. He smells so good.
The stranger grinned, peering at me through sensual eyes. "I'm sure I asked first."
"I don't care," I said, letting my hand rest on his thigh. He was athletic—that much was obvious, but I wondered if the rest of his body was decorated by the dark tattoos.
I needed to see it.
"Damian," he said with no hesitation, catching me by surprise. I was expecting another rebuttal. Damian. I liked the name.
I paused taking a moment to think about it, really fucking think about it. Did I want to go down this road with him? Did I want to fuck a man and then leave the city the next day and never see him again? I did. Of course I did.
Damian gripped my cheek, gentle but firm enough to face my head into his direction. He bent down when he spoke softly,"I want to know the name of the woman I'm fucking tonight."
Woah.
"Brave," I mumbled under my breath.
I had never had a man say anything like that to me before, and I wasn't ashamed to admit that I was enjoying it. The lights dimmed, another dancer stepping onto the platform and yet again, he kept his eyes on me.
"Hardly," he whispered. "Brave will be throwing you over this table and giving everyone a different type of entertainment. I don't think you want that,do you?" He played with my hair, twirling my curls around his tattooed fingers.
I took a deep breath, involuntarily picturing the scene of him pressing my face into the glass table and fucking me from behind. The thought was intrusive. And too vivid for comfort.
I did want that.
"Brave will be touching you here,"he murmured, letting the back of his fingers graze my collar bones. "And here" he moved over my exposed cleavage,touching the skin softly and I let him, because he was hot. "Knowing that all these men are watching". He nodded his head to the left,into the group of men he wasn't even looking at.
They pretended to be occupied when I caught them.
"Nova", I said,pushing my inhibitions to the side.
He chuckled,his dark brown eyes swirling with lust.
"Beautiful name"
"Nova," he repeated, testing it on his tongue. My name has never sounded that good. "Brave would be—" he paused, caressing the hem of my dress. His eyes met mine, flickering to my lips just for a moment and I saw the question. I thought about it again. I deserved to let loose for one night.
So I nodded.
Damian didn't wait. He saw the opportunity and wasted no time in grabbing me by my waist. "I'm going to kiss you Nova"
With his hands clasped underneath my ear, he leaned forward and kissed me. I barely had time to comprehend it, but I let my body relax. His lips were full, soft and felt so fucking good that I couldn't help but let out a low moan. It had been so long since I was kissed, and it shouldn't have felt so fucking good.
Damian grabbed my jaw, angling my head to deepen the kiss. Currents of pleasure ran through me, straight to my fucking clit and I had to squeeze my thighs together.
I was already wet, and he had barely touched me.
"Fuck," he whispered, his lips not leaving mine. "If your kisses feel like this…" he trailed off, his big hands holding my hips and he gave me a small massage.
I smiled against him, getting one taste and wanting more and more. I grabbed the back of his head, pushing his mouth further into mine. He was a good kisser.
It was dark when I pulled away, but light enough for me to see the erection straining against his pants. It was hard between his legs, pressed down his thigh and clothed by a thin material. The size of him almost scared me.
What the fuck was I supposed to do with all of that?
Damian licked his lips, and it was evident that the kiss had left him a little dazed. For a sober man, his eyes were pretty low. It felt good to know that I wasn't the only affected, in fact, he seemed a bit more touched than me.
"You taste good," he whispered, and then he kissed my neck and I was convinced if we were alone, my clothes would have been long gone.
My heart rate was still haywire, and my mind was whirling with too many thoughts for understanding. But beyond all of that, I knew I was going to leave with this man. Just like that, I became putty in his hands. To mould and to use however he wanted. As long as I got an orgasm from it, I had no issue delving into unknown territory.
Damian retrieved his wallet and pulled out a few notes. He set it on the table, and I realised that he was paying for my drink that I hadn't finished.
He stood up, and held a hand out for me. When I let my palm touch his, I knew that there was no going back. There was a silent agreement between us as he led me through the masses of the club, guiding me through the bodies and making sure we didn't bump into anyone.
I followed him, mentally preparing myself for whatever he had in store for me.