Control

Chapter 3.

     Dimitri Belen what?

     Dismay bit through my skin as I kicked back my surprise and tried my hardest to look natural. This man knew my family. He had molested me in the restroom only minutes ago yet my adoring boyfriend looked at him with an almost commendable manner, like he was a golden statue promising world peace. Fuck. I was screwed. He drank me in into the blackness of his captivating irises, as if charming a deadly snake without fear. I stilled as he drew my hand into the warmth of his large palm tightly.

     My body shuddered as his skin touched the pads of my fingertips, creating molten desire to quiver in my veins and I could feel my cold outer shell crumbling. Nevertheless, I retracted my hand almost straight away to keep a friendly—and preferably PG rated—show for my family.

     "It is lovely to meet you... " his dark pink lips moved smoothly as he spoke, his powerful accent sheathing his every word before he paused.

     I felt nauseous and my chest heaved. Christ. He did not even know my name but I had allowed him to touch me! I was such a slut. It took me a moment to realise I had not actually answered him yet and the whole table was looking at me expectantly. He seemed to revel in my discomfort and his mouth curved into a delicious grin.

     "Frances," I blurted out like a teenager—Jesus, my self control had flown out of the window.

     "Frances." He tested the word out on his foreign tongue as if tasting the essence of it. The sound of my name was like honey drizzling from a spoon and a pang of longing shot down between my legs. I crossed them under the table in an attempt to shut myself down and stay aloof but the lust he had sparked only continued to grow, curling up through my abdomen and swelling in my chest.

     Though it weighed profoundly on my guilty mind, our uncomfortable meet and greet had been forgotten in a matter of seconds. Charlotte and Tobias conversed about the wonders of Greece and the others listened in eagerly—she had stayed there for two months and therefore, of course, knew everything there was to know. I rolled my eyes to the back of my skull and turned my attention to John who was staring my way. I gave him a small tight lipped smile.

     Shame crept up my spine and I swallowed hard as I felt the throbbing feeling of my contained emotions rising. Avery caught my eye for a brief second and mouthed 'Are you okay?' I nodded in response. Tracey was cackling wildly at a trivial joke and my father had taken to ignore me— his wretched and troublesome daughter—as he discussed work ethics with John.

     A solid and muscular thigh pushed on mine, generating the minor contact that enthused shivers to scatter up my inner thigh and I found Dimitri taking generous mouthfuls of his whiskey as he eyed me. His bottomless gaze challenged me to react. Daring me.

     I needed to get out of here, now.

     "John," I forced myself to say as meekly as I could, "I don't feel well, can we go?"

     His expression was one of utter bewilderment—I had never asked him for permission to leave before. Beforehand I had always told him we were leaving and that was that. His brows creased with genuine concern and the conversations among the table stopped to look at me. Dimitri seemed to revel in my anxiety, placing his rough hand on to my leg and I squirmed as the warmth of his palm spread across my skin. A bead of sweat trickled down my back as I panicked.

     "Of course, I'll get your coat," John piped up like my own personal butler.

     I rose up, only to feel an unyielding hand clamp down on my wrist. My eyes flew down to see the restroom assailant holding onto my arm. All of my nerve endings lurched to life once again and I froze. He observed me intensely, his facade of a concerned expression convincing everyone but me because I could see underneath he was laughing at me.