Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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ESMERALDA'S POV
I stepped closer, slow and deliberate, savoring the way his body tensed in anticipation. My fingers trailed up his chest, teasing the hard muscles beneath his shirt, feeling the heat radiate off him. He was barely keeping himself in check, and I lived for it.
Leaning in, I let my lips ghost over the shell of his ear, my breath hot against his skin. "You have no idea how much I want you right now," I purred, letting the words slither between us, wrapping around him like a vice.
His body went rigid. His breathing turned sharp, ragged. I smirked against his jaw, feeling the control in him crack just a little more.
Then I turned my back to him.
The music pulsed through my veins, and I let my hips move with it, slow and sensual, every roll of my body designed to torture him. I arched my back slightly, pressing my ass against the solid weight of him, relishing the sharp inhale he took.
The way his fingers twitched at his sides—desperate to grab me, to hold me in place, to take what was his—sent a thrill through me.
I dragged my hands over my own body, swaying, teasing, knowing damn well that every second of this was destroying his self-control. "Is this what you want?" I asked, voice dripping with sin as I ground against him just enough to feel his restraint snap even further.
His hands flexed into fists. His jaw was clenched so tightly I swore I could hear his teeth grinding. "Esmeralda," he growled, low and guttural, like a warning, like a promise.
I turned around slowly, my chest nearly brushing his, my lips hovering inches from his. My fingers trailed down the ridges of his stomach, dancing lower, teasing the waistband of his jeans. "What's the matter, Caleb?" I taunted, tilting my head, my voice nothing but temptation. "Scared you won't be able to handle me?"
His nostrils flared. His body was coiled so tight he looked like he was ready to snap.
Good.
I dragged my lower lip between my teeth, teasingly, knowing he was watching every damn movement, memorizing it. Then, slowly—so fucking slowly—I leaned in, my lips brushing over his, the barest hint of contact. I heard the sharp breath he took, the barely restrained hunger in him.
Then I pulled away.
His hands grabbed my waist—hard—yanking me flush against him, a quiet, deadly growl vibrating through his chest. "You think you're in control here, princess?" His voice was a rough whisper against my lips, sending heat rushing through me. "You think you can play with fire and not get fucking burned?"
I smirked, sliding my hands up his chest, nails scraping lightly, feeling the muscle beneath. "Maybe I want to get burned," I whispered back, challenging him, daring him. "Maybe I want to see how hot the flames can get."
His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers digging into my skin just enough to brand me. "You're going to regret that," he murmured darkly, his voice a mix of warning and promise.
Without hesitation, I grabbed his wrist, yanking him through the sea of bodies, my pulse pounding in sync with the heavy bass reverberating through the club. The air was thick with heat and sweat, the scent of alcohol clinging to my skin as I maneuvered us into the dimly lit hallway at the back of the club—secluded, away from curious eyes.
I turned sharply, slamming Caleb against the cold wall, my hands splayed over his hard chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. My own breath was ragged, my adrenaline spiking at the dangerous way he looked at me—like a predator watching his prey, only I wasn't prey. I was the storm he couldn't outrun.
"Is this what you wanted?" I taunted, voice dripping with seduction as I straddled his lap, pressing my body flush against him. The second I felt the rigid length of him beneath me, a wicked smirk tugged at my lips. I rolled my hips, slow and deliberate, reveling in the way his breath hitched, his fingers twitching at his sides, resisting the urge to grab me.
His jaw tightened, muscles flexing beneath my touch. "Esmeralda..." he growled, his voice dark and gravelly, thick with barely contained lust. But I could see it in his eyes—the war raging within him, the desperate need clawing at his restraint.
I leaned forward, brushing my lips dangerously close to his, so close our breaths mingled. "You're losing control," I whispered, my voice sultry, teasing. "You want this. Admit it."
His hands snapped to my waist, gripping hard enough to leave bruises, his fingers digging into my skin as if I was the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. "Fuck, Cherry..." he muttered, the conflict in his expression sending a thrill down my spine.
I grinded against him again, slower this time, deliberately drawing out his torment. The friction between us was deliciously torturous, the heat unbearable. "Let go," I whispered, my hands sliding up to his neck, my nails scraping lightly against his skin. "Just let go."
His body shuddered beneath mine. His self-control was slipping, unraveling thread by thread.
And then, snap.
With a low, guttural growl, Caleb lost it.
In a flash, he flipped us, pinning me against the wall now, his hands caging me in, his breath hot and heavy against my cheek. "You have no idea what you're asking for," he rasped, his lips ghosting over my jawline, teasing, torturing.
"Maybe I do," I countered, my voice breathy, my heart slamming against my ribs.
He leaned in, his nose brushing against mine, his lips a whisper away. His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers flexing like he wanted to claim every inch of me. I could feel his need, his frustration, the barely restrained hunger simmering beneath the surface.
And just when I thought he'd break completely, just when I felt his lips almost crush against mine—
I pulled away.
I ripped myself from his grasp, sliding my body down the length of his in a way I knew would drive him insane. "I can't wait for you forever, Caleb," I breathed, my voice laced with wicked amusement, knowing damn well I was leaving him in hell.
His chest heaved, his eyes wild with a storm of emotions—desire, fury, pure fucking need.
I turned, walking away with slow, deliberate strides, my hips swaying with each step. The burn of his gaze scorched down my back, and I thrived in it. Just before I disappeared into the crowd, I glanced over my shoulder, throwing him one last smirk.
