Chapter 52 - 51 Drunk On You

Chapter 52: Chapter 51 Drunk On You

"Why do people call you that?"

The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Laziel didn’t look at me. He just kept his eyes straight ahead.

"What?" I pushed, my nerves fraying at the edges. "Don? Why the fuck were they calling you Don?"

Silence.

He didn’t answer a damn thing, and the quiet was driving me insane.

Then, as if we weren’t sitting in the middle of a literal criminal convention, he casually turned to me. "Are you enjoying the club, Mireya?"

I almost fell right off the booth. Enjoying? He brought me to a den of depravity where guys were using wine bottles like toys, and he wanted to know if I was having fun?

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" I hissed. "What kind of sick place did you bring me to?"

"A place where people don’t pretend to be good," he replied smoothly.

A waiter—or whatever the hell he was—hurried over, setting down a fresh bottle of red wine. Laziel poured a glass, took a slow, deliberate sip, and then poured another. He slid it across the table toward me.

"Have a taste."

I crossed my arms, glaring at the glass. "No. I’m not drinking your poison."

"Come on. Just a taste." His voice dropped into that low, annoying tone that made my chest do stupid things.

Reluctantly, I picked up the glass. I took a tiny sip.

My face instantly crumpled, my nose wrinkling as the bite of the alcohol hit my tongue. It was bitter, sweet, rich—all at once. I coughed softly, but as the aftertaste settled, my eyes widened.

Damn it. It wasn’t bad. It was actually incredible.

Laziel watched me, a faint, almost mocking smirk playing on his lips. "Good?"

I didn’t answer, just grabbed the glass and took another sip. Smooth this time.

"Want more?" he asked, his voice low.

I nodded.

He poured it again. I drank it down faster. What kind of wine was this? It felt like liquid velvet sliding down my throat. By the third glass, the room started to tilt.

I reached blindly for the bottle to pour a fourth, but a hand shot out, catching my wrist.

"Ah, ah, ah," Laziel murmured, pulling the bottle away. "That’s enough, Mireya. I don’t want you getting wasted."

"I’m fine," I mumbled, my head spinning in the best possible way. My eyes were starting to drift, feeling heavy and floaty.

Across the room, movement caught my attention. The silver-haired creep with the cold blue eyes stood up from his booth.

He had been watching us the entire time. He gave me one long, lingering, predatory look—like a wolf eyeing a wounded rabbit—before turning and walking out of the heavy double doors.

I let out a ragged breath, slumping back against the cushions. Thank God. The creep was gone.

I blinked sleepily, a stupid, reckless grin pulling at my lips.

I want to dance.

Before my brain could tell my body no, I slipped off the seat, my hips swaying lazily to the music. I started winding my waist right there against the edge of the booth, my hands sliding up over my shoulders.

"Please," I purred, looking back at him through my eyelashes, feeling bold and drunk and invincible. "I just want... one more sip. Just one more glass."

I reached out to grab the wine glass again, but an unyielding grip locked around my waist.

With a hard yank, Laziel dragged me right back down, planting me firmly on his lap.

"No," he muttered into my neck, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. "Sit still."

"Why are you always ruining my fun?" I whined, shoving weakly against his chest, as I tried to wriggle away.

Laziel didn’t let go. Instead, his hand slid down from my waist, pressing flat against my hip and pinning me hard against him.

The second I shifted, I felt it. Damn... he was hard.

He groaned as he pressed me down harder against it. His mouth hovered right over my ear.

"My dick is already hard just watching you try to act wild, Mireya," he muttered, his fingers tightening painfully around my hip. "Don’t make it worse. Or I’ll make you get on your knees and put your mouth on it right here in front of every monster in this room."

A normal, sober person would have frozen. A normal person would have been terrified.

But I wasn’t normal right now. I was buzzing, floating, completely untethered by the red wine. Fear didn’t even touch me. Instead, a wicked thrill curled low in my stomach.

I didn’t back off. I smiled.

"Is that a threat, Mr. Monroe?" I purred, my voice dropping into something sultry and teasing as I tilted my head back against his shoulder. "Or are you just making promises you’re too chicken-shit to keep?"

Laziel’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek.

Instead of being scared, I wanted to see how far I could push the leash. I wanted to see the great and terrible CEO completely lose his mind over me.

Slowly, I shifted my weight. I didn’t try to get off his lap—I slid right back down, planting myself square against him, and let my hips roll in a slow, agonizingly deliberate circle.

He let out a gasp.

"Mireya..." he warned.

"What?" I whispered, looking back at him through my lashes. I reached up, my fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt, tracing the hard lines of his chest. "What’s wrong, Laziel? Don’t like it when I take control?"

I ground down on him again, harder this time, feeling the length of him pressing right through our clothes.

"Or do you prefer those plastic bimbos downstairs?" I taunted, my voice dripping with jealousy as I threw my hands back, pushing my cleavage up and out, right in front of his face. "Is that what gets you hard? Watching them crawl all over you like cheap toys? You want me to act like them? Huh? You want me to beg for it?"

His eyes went pitch black, burning with hunger that could have set the room on fire. His hfingers digging in hard in my waist, enough to bruise, keeping me locked in place as he fought a losing battle with his own control.

"You are nothing like them, you reckless little bitch."

"Prove it," I breathed, my fingers finally finding the top button of his shirt, popping it open to bare his hot, sculpted skin to my touch. "Everyone else in this room is busy fucking, Laziel. No one is looking at us. So what are you waiting for?"

I traced a nail down his chest, leaning in close enough to brush my lips against his ear.

"Put your hands inside my dress, Laziel," I whispered, dirty and breathless. "Or are you scared you’ll lose control the second my pussy tightens around you?"