Chapter 14 Chapter 14
Her body seized then, a guttural moan ripping from her lips as the orgasm crashed over her. I watched, fist pumping furiously, as her pussy clenched around the dildo, juices squirting in messy arcs that soaked the sheets. Her ass gripped the other toy tight, muscles fluttering in release, full breasts jiggling with the aftershocks. The camera captured every twitch, every bead of sweat trailing down her curves, and I came with a savage grunt, hot ropes of cum spilling over my hand, splattering my crimson thighs. The relief was fleeting, leaving me hollow, still burning for the real thing—her heat wrapped around me, not this solitary torment.
“Finally,” I projected into her mind as she slumped, panting, eyes glazed with satisfaction but flickering with that unresolved fire only I could fully quench. “That was for them, not me. When will you let go?”
She didn't respond, just killed the stream with a smirk, wiping herself clean before dressing for her shift. I faded back into the ether, corporeal form dissolving to shadow, trailing her essence like a hound. The bond pulled me along, invisible and insistent, as she headed to the club where she poured drinks by night and shed her clothes for cash. Bartending first, then stripping—her dual life a blaze of independence that both infuriated and entranced me. I'd watched her there before, in dreams and glimpses, but tonight, with my body solid and aching, I craved more.
Hours blurred as I lingered in the club's smoky haze, unseen among the patrons. Adrianna moved behind the bar with confident grace, her curvy frame hugged by a tight black top and skirt that rode up her thighs, brunette hair tied back in a ponytail that begged to be yanked. She laughed with regulars, pouring shots with a wink, her full breasts straining the fabric, nipples faintly visible when she leaned forward. The air reeked of booze and sweat, but her scent cut through—musky arousal lingering from earlier, mixed with vanilla lotion. My cock stirred again, the memory of her show too fresh, possessive love twisting with jealousy at the leers she drew.
As her bartending shift wound down, a cluster of loyal customers—rough guys with hungry eyes—crowded the bar, begging. “Come on, Adrianna, dance for us tonight! Shake that ass on stage, baby—we'll make it rain!”
She flashed a teasing smile, wiping the counter, her independent fire sparking. “Maybe, boys. Shift's almost over—”
But Paul, her manager, appeared like a shadow—stern, broad-shouldered, his professional scowl cutting through the noise. He gripped her arm gently but firmly, pulling her aside into the dim hallway beyond the bar. I drifted closer, ears straining through the bond to catch his words.
“Got a VIP booking for you, Adrianna. Private dance in the back room. Guy paid top dollar—not the usual twenty minutes, but three full hours. Extra cash, no questions. You in?”
Her eyes narrowed, but I felt the curiosity ripple through our connection. Three hours? My doing, of course—I'd materialized earlier, slipping into the club, booking under a false name. The vow held me from touching without permission, but this... this was seduction on my terms, supernatural and patient.
“How much extra?”
“$400.”
“$400?” Paul nodded.
She hesitated, then agreed. “Fine, I’ll do it. Send me in.”
My pulse thrummed as she sauntered to the VIP room, hips swaying with that wild confidence. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing us in velvet darkness lit by soft red glows. A pole gleamed in the center, plush couches ringing it, champagne chilling in a bucket on the table. I sat there, corporeal and waiting, crimson skin gleaming under the lights, broad shoulders draped in a tailored black shirt that did little to hide my muscular frame. Elegant horns caught the light, and my eyes—glowing faintly—locked on her as she entered.
Adrianna’s breath hitched, curvy body tensing in the doorway. She was still in her work outfit, top hugging her breasts, skirt barely covering her ass. Fury and desire warred on her face, that deep craving for our bond clashing with her defiance.
“Of course it is you.” she hissed, turning to leave.
But she paused, a sly glint in her eyes. Teasing me—tormenting me—had become her game, and this was prime territory. She shut the door instead, locking it with a click that echoed like a challenge. Slowly, deliberately, she approached the pole, hips rolling as she peeled off her top. Her full breasts spilled free, nipples hardening in the cool air, sensitive peaks begging for my mouth. She kicked off her heels, then shimmied out of the skirt, revealing lace panties already damp from the thrill.
I rose, cock hardening instantly at the sight, the ridges along its length pulsing with need. Emotions surged—possessive love from our bond, the fantasy of finally claiming her body after years of want. She gripped the pole, starting a slow dance, body undulating like liquid sin. Her curves moved hypnotically: ass cheeks flexing as she bent low, breasts swaying with each twist, brunette waves loosening to cascade down her back.
The sight wrecked me. I stepped forward, drawn like a moth to her flame, hand reaching out to trace the air near her hip. Her scent enveloped me—arousal thick and sweet, pussy lips outlined against the lace, clit swelling visibly as she ground against the pole.
“No touching,” she warned, voice husky but firm, spinning to face me, one leg hooked high on the metal. Her eyes blazed, torn between pushing me away and pulling me in. “Club rules. Try it again, and I call security. You'll lose all that money you threw around.”
I halted, fangs bared in a grin, muscles coiling with restraint. My cock strained against my pants, pre-cum leaking at the thought of worshipping her—licking sweat from her thighs, sucking those nipples until she screamed. The bond hummed, supernatural seduction weaving through the air, her desire mirroring mine despite the words.
“Money means nothing, Adrianna,” I growled, voice rough with centuries of pent-up lust, stepping closer until heat radiated between us. “You belong to me. Have since your first breath. Ask, and I'll make every fantasy real—body and soul.”
She faltered, breath quickening, nipples peaking harder as her dance slowed, thighs pressing together to ease the ache. But her fire held, teasing grind resuming, ass brushing dangerously close to my groin. The torment built anew, my hands itching to grab her, spread her wide, and plunge deep—fucking her raw while she clung to the pole, our bond sealing in ecstasy. Yet I waited, heart pounding with possessive agony, the champagne forgotten as her body promised more torture ahead.