Whisky and Wanting

He's such a tease sometimes.

He watched me out of the corner of his eye as he made the group of people he was talking to laugh with a well timed joke. He could charm anyone when he turned it on full force like that and it seemed tonight he was all about turning things on at full force.

Particularly me.

I swirled the straw in the drink he ordered for me. Some fancy aged whisky I was entirely too uneducated to be drinking but enjoyed immensely all the same. Who puts a straw in whisky? Absolutely no one in their right mind would, which likely explained why I'd done it. He'd driven me out of my right mind and I needed any distraction that kept my hands and mouth busy. Too bad I couldn't keep my eyes off his equally busy hands and mouth. The way his fingertips tapped and danced across the bar top, forearm muscles flexing in that way that made it difficult for me to focus my attention. My gaze flicked from his hands, one finger dragging a drop of moisture down the side of his glass, to his forearm and the way each muscle worked before it traveled up his bicep and chest to his jaw and finally came to rest on his mouth. He brought the drop of water he'd been toying with to his lips, tongue darting out to lick it away almost absently but when my eyes widened and I glanced up at him, he winked.

In a rush of heady desire that flooded my body and settled like a burning knot between my thighs, I realized he'd been hoping for this. I realized every decision he made to this point was with calculated intent to ignite my desire and this teasing game he so loved.

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself even as I felt my cheeks tint pink at being caught staring.

Such a fucking tease.

I shifted in my seat, restless with the buzz of need and my acute awareness of him. Not only of the heat of him at my side, but the draw of his breath, the tick of his pulse and the sparkle in his eyes.

That sparkle is exactly the reason it took us ages to get out of the house. He'd been less coy then, and our friends were lucky he was such a stickler for keeping plans and being on time. I'd have happily blown the whole night off to finish what he'd started when he walked up behind me as I stood in front of my closet wearing nothing but my panties and a scowl.

His hands had run the length of my torso before winding around my waist, lips finding their way to his favorite spot on my neck as he met my gaze in the full length mirror against the wall.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" His words against my skin sent a shiver down my spine and smoothed the furrow on my brow as my focus shifted to him from my lack of suitable outfit options.

I made a sound of frustration and gestured broadly to my clothes before putting my hands over his arms, holding him to me and soaking up the comfort of his touch.

He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my bare back. I pressed closer into him involuntarily.

"You know you look incredible in anything, but if it's bothering you that much, why don't I choose something for you?" He asked, knowing I'd jump at the offer. I loved when he dressed me, as it always made me feel hyper aware of his eyes on me. Knowing I was pleasing him by doing as he'd said, but also knowing I was teasing him because he always chose his favorite things to take off me at the end of the night.

He'd chosen a red silk top, black jeans, and my favorite leather jacket. With every item of clothing he laid out for me, his grin grew broader and as I pulled them on slowly, I didn't miss the subtle way he adjusted his jeans to hide his apparent approval of my reverse strip tease.

I grabbed my bag, checked my hair and held my hand out to him with plenty of time to spare. We were set to be a little early even as I beamed at him, "Ready to go, sweetheart?"

He said nothing, but stood from where he'd sat on our bed watching me and I saw his intent before he was on me. He was ready to go alright, but it wasn't out the door. His hunger was evident in every line of his body, in the sparkle of his eyes and the intent of his prowl as he approached me.

He advanced until he was on me, hands gripping my hips as his mouth came down on mine in a kiss that left my immediately breathless. But he didn't stop there, he walked us back until I felt the wall at my back and him at my front. His hands slid down, over my ass with a quick sharp smack, and then to the backs of my thighs as he lifted me without breaking our kiss.

I hooked my legs around his waist, hips shifting to seek what I know I'd find where our bodies met. The hard, hot length of him, pressing against the soft wet need of me but separated by the layers of our clothes that reminded me that we had somewhere to be and this was a little bit forbidden. That only made me want it more. Want him more.

When he brought his hand to the nape of my neck, gripping me there out of respect for the effort I'd put in to taming my hair (I made a mental note to thank him later for that), I moaned into his mouth. I could feel the desire that flooded my body when he growled in response, as if the very sound was a release valve for my control that slipped with every passing moment. With my control waning, so too was my awareness of our obligations that seemed to matter much less.

He withdrew his kiss, lips moving across my jaw and down my throat, nipping at my pulse and sucking at my skin until I purred and arched into him. He pushed back, hips grinding into mine as he braced a hand against the wall and lowered his head further, toward my chest until he nudged the fabric of my top out of the way and bared the swell of one breast.

This growl was involuntary and though I couldn't see his eyes, I knew they'd just gone a shade darker with need and I smiled. My hands went to his hair as his mouth went to my breast, sucking and nibbling at the soft, sensitive skin with obvious intent to leave a mark. An intention I so loved. His marks were my favorite accessory, one I always wore like a badge of honor.

He raised his head to admire his work, nodding his approval as he lowered one hand from the wall and carefully situated my top back into place.

Gently, he'd lowered me back to the ground before stepping away and smoothing the front of his shirt with a smile, "Now I'm ready to go."

Fuck sake. I think I'd actually growled at that, but go we did.

And here we sat, me still stewing in all the desire he'd stirred up and him still gloating on much the same.

As we sat in the bar of this busy restaurant, surrounded by friends and strangers alike, I remained aware of what he'd done to me. What he was still doing to me and the way the evidence of his effect gathered between my thighs and dampened the soft lace of my panties. The heat he stirred up in me made the room feel stuffy and hot, so I shrugged off my jacket and rolled my shoulders an effort to relax the sexual tension pulling them taut.

I sipped my drink through the straw and watched him shake his head at the action without missing a beat in the conversation he was having. One I'd entirely lost awareness of. I tried to let the burn of the whisky override the heat of my want and get my head back in the game. I focused once more on the pair of friends he was laughing with; his effortless banter and wit just as compelling as his sexual prowess. I focused on his words, on the cadence of the conversation to try to reframe my thoughts but just as I seemed to come back to myself, he caught my eye once more and his gaze dropped to my cleavage- and the mark he'd left there teasingly peeking out of my top- with a wry smile before he offered me a single, silent word.

"Mine."

Though no sound left his lips, I had a visceral reaction as if he'd spoken it directly into my ear. My skin prickled as the effect of him hit me and the veil of focus I'd so tentatively built washed away in a renewed flood of my desire. I gulped, and then brought my glass to my lips and gulped that back too. Amusement danced in his eyes as he watched me down the beverage absolutely intended to be sipped.

My thoughts drifted to the fresh mark he left on my breast, to the feeling of his hard cock pressed against me and the vibration of his own want in his growls against my skin. This time, there was no recovering them. But I had an idea.

I stood abruptly from my chair and his hand immediately went to my back.

"You alright, honey?" He focused on me with his words, concern and curiosity pulling him from the conversation.

"Yes, of course. Just need to step out a minute. I'll be right back, okay?" I told him with a sweet smile, hoping he could see the intent in my eyes even as I cast a polite glance to the rest of our party. I nodded at them, kissed his cheek and stepped away from the bar with a small wave. He wanted to play, and I couldn't resist the invitation.

Once in the ladies room, I tugged down the skintight jeans he'd chosen carefully until they slid off over my heeled boots. My lace panties followed the jeans into the floor with a single tug and wiggle of my hips and I l bent to retrieve them with a smile, feeling the dampness of the fabric as I gathered them in my palm.

I pulled my jeans back on but paused before fastening the zip as I dipped my fingers inside of them and between my thighs to find the mess he'd already made of me. I ran my fingertips through hot, slick need and tried not to think about how good the touch felt. I was here to play, but not that kind of playing. I withdrew my hand, and finished dressing myself.

Without wiping away the offering I'd collected for him, I turned my palm to conceal my removed panties and exited the bathroom with only a cursory glance at my reflection. From that alone, I could see the telltale flush of my chest and the vibrancy of my eyes. Signs a stranger would miss but that he would spot like a flashing sign announcing my desire. Knowing he'd know only set my pulse hammering harder as I slowly made my way across the crowded room.

I watched him as I went, a small crowd gathering to listen to whatever he was saying. His infectious laugh only amplified the way people seemed to hang on his every word. It's what made him so compelling at first, that openhearted charm of his, but his quick wit and intelligence often kept people there. I knew first hand how easy it was to become enthralled with his enthusiasm and devastating smile- and just how hard it was to break the spell if he let you past his surface.

The man was truly unreal. And he was all mine. Something hot and electric shot through me at that, possession and desire and emotion I wasn't ready to decipher. Almost as if he sensed my attention on him, his eyes finding mine and his smile becoming the kind of bright he seemed to save for moments just like this. I smiled back, mischief dancing along my nerves and sparking off that heat of desire and unnamed things, and our gazes remained locked until I was at his side.

He outstretched his arm toward me, looping it around my waist and tugging me tight against his side as he kissed the top of my head, "Welcome back, beautiful."

"Hey thanks," I said, tipping my chin up to catch his lips in a brief kiss even as I felt our friends rolling their eyes at our PDA. I wrapped my arm around him, feigning a hug with the hand concealing my panties and pressed my hand into his pocket. I dropped my offering and squeezed his hip gently before releasing him and stepping out of his embrace to return to my seat. At my abrupt retreat, he gave me a curious glance but I just smiled, feeling a little smug, and held up my empty glass to him to indicate I'd like another drink.

When he excused himself from the conversation and turned away to order it, I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text, knowing full well he'd check it and have to reach past the gift I'd left in his pocket to do so.

|| your move.

At that, I pocketed my phone to turn my attention back to our friends and the conversation at hand. I surreptitiously watched him as best I could, trying to catch the moment he realized what I'd done as I nodded along sympathetically to a complaint about someone's shitty boss.

I wasn't looking the moment he found them, but I knew anyhow. I couldn't have missed the sharp intake of breath or the way his entire body language changed in an instant. Tension lined his shoulders and the set of his jaw as he carefully pulled his phone out, glancing just briefly at the message before returning the device to his (other) pocket.

He didn't look at me, didn't answer the message. He waited patiently for my fresh drink and by the time he returned to me, he'd willed the tension from his features and offered an easy smile. But I couldn't miss the dark burn of desire in his eyes.

And I certainly couldn't miss it when he leaned down to set the glass on the bar top in front of me and pressed his lips to my ear to growl, "Wait 3 minutes and follow me."

I nodded- to anyone watching, it was my thanks, but to him it was confirmation that I'd do as he said. As if he had any doubt. But before he could look away, I lifted my glass with the hand I'd gathered my wetness on and, before I could take a drink, slid my fingers into my mouth and licked them clean. I let my eyes close briefly, savoring the taste of my need for him as he watched me, one brow arched with a mix of amusement, desire and disbelief. I held his gaze as I sipped my drink, grinning when I brought the glass back down and declared, "Delicious."

The sound he made was disguised easily enough with a cough that he played off as having choked on his drink. Which would have been far more effective had he been holding one. When he realized this, he flushed slightly, stammering over a couple of words before giving up and saying, "I think I've got something in my throat. If you'll excuse me."

I inclined my head in acknowledgment as he turned away and headed across the room before disappearing down the same hallway the bathrooms were on. I glanced at the clock on the same wall and began my count.

Exactly three minutes later, I excused myself to go check on him and followed. Just past the bathrooms, the hall hooked right and got significantly darker. A series of doors seemed to lead to offices or back rooms, but I didn't have much time to determine which may be what before he stepped out of a shadowy alcove. I stopped in my tracks, a small gasp escaping my lips in surprise despite knowing he'd be waiting for me somewhere. His hands gripped my arms, eyes searching my face with intensity for a brief moment before he was on me.

His lips pressed against mine urgently and there was no disguising the need in his kiss as he nipped at my lip, tongue invading my mouth with welcome force as I yielded to him. He turned us, walking me back into the alcove he'd come from until we were in the very position that had awoken this need hours before at home: me, feeling small and fragile pinned between his powerful frame pressed against my front and the solid concrete of the wall behind me. One hand trailed from my jaw down my neck, my shoulder and toward my waist until he could slide his hand around and grip my ass. The other ran through my hair, gripping it to give one sharp tug before he released it in favor of wrapping his fingers loosely around my throat, thumb covering my pulse that hammered so intensely I could barely hear the music that filtered down the hall from the main room of the bar. He kissed me breathless just like that, his grip on my ass pressing my hips into his so I couldn't mistake the effect this was having on him and his hand around my throat reminding me of his possession, just in case the ferocity of the way he fucked my mouth with his tongue had left any question about that.

When I pulled away to suck in the air my body seemed to require, he leaned back to look at me, and the liquid heat in his eyes had me biting my lip. My hands, which had been trailing up his chest, now framed his jaw, nails razing delicate skin through his beard until his eyes closed with pleasure and he growled. His hips rocked into mine once, shifting the hard length of him against my lower belly in a way that drove my need higher- so high I couldn't stop myself from lifting my leg, hooking an ankle around his hips and trying to find the angle I needed to grind myself against him through our clothes. But to get there, I needed him to lift me, and his hands remained immovable in the positions they'd taken up during our kiss. The only change was the gentle flex of his fingers at my throat as I tried to grind my hips against him.

"I don't think so, not with that stunt you pulled," his voice was low and smooth as he spoke against my ear, lips catching my ear lobe and nipping before moving down my neck to trail kisses and bites across my sensitive flesh. As his mouth moved down, so did his hand at my throat until he was kissing my collarbone and gripping my breast and my back was arching into him. Only then did he continue speaking, "Leaving your panties in my pocket in a bar full of people. While I was talking to our friends."

He brought his head up to meet my eyes again, shaking it in mock disbelief as he pinched my nipple through the layers of my clothes. I whimpered but he shook his head, "No, no. Quiet, we can't have someone finding us here. Or," he lowered his head once more, voice dropping to a growl as he bit my nipple through the fabric until my mouth fell open in a silent moan, "did you want me to stop?"

I shook my head no emphatically, not willing to risk speech in case he really did plan to stop. But he just grinned something mischievous and intensely sexy before returning to his task of lavishing attention on my breasts. His fingertips ran between the hem of my top, beneath the lace of my bra and stroked the swell of my bare breast. I clamped my lips together to bite back the moan at the teasing, but finally direct, touch of his warm skin against mine.

This kind of touch, though, drove him wilder than it did me and I only had to bide my time a few moments before he was roughly pushing the fabric down and out of his way, lifting my breasts from my bra until they were on display for him. He trailed his palm lightly across the soft, smooth flesh to run over first one nipple, then the other as his fingertips gently massaged me before bringing his mouth down to join in on the fun. The sensation of his beard against my sensitive flesh and the heat of his mouth across the swell of my breast was overwhelming. And this time when my hips rocked into him involuntarily, and a throaty moan echoed in my chest despite my closed mouth, his hand on my ass shifted toward my other thigh until he was finally lifting me with one hand while the other continued to toy with my breasts.

Now that he held me, suspended above the ground only by his strength and the wall he pressed me up against, every shift of my hips ground my needy, wet pussy against the hard length of him and I was acutely aware of the layers that remained between us. Far too many layers that I was not in a position to remove, so in a small rebellion, I ground against him even harder, rolling my hips so that I was dragging myself up the full length of his shaft as I writhed against the torturous work his lips and tongue were doing as they moved across my breast and toward my nipple. When he finally flicked the tip of his tongue over the hard peak, I gasped and my hands flew to his hair, tugging the strands but pressing his head tighter against me. I felt the vibration of his chuckle at my response, but I also felt the throb of his cock through our clothes in answer.

"Please," I whispered, voice choked with need..

He raised his head, and for a moment I thought he was going to chastise me for having spoken but his eyes were so dark that they looked nearly black in the low light, mouth swollen from the ferocity of his kisses and attention to my breasts, and he only smiled.