Lola & the Millionaires: Part Two

by Kathryn Moon

  “Yes, deal! Deal, deal, deal,” I chanted, my hips riding against his quick fingers.

  “I love you,” Rake rasped, and then he dove down, tongue fucking into my mouth as I moaned and wrapped myself around him.

  Seven

  Lola

  “Good thing I made you lie on my t-shirt yesterday,” Rake said, grinning at me as I examined my reflection in the mirror, turning to see the thin strip of red that ran down my spine. The dress I’d chosen was all but backless, and the ribbon was more a tease than it was functional. “Rug burn would’ve ruined the effect.”

  I laughed and spun again. “You don’t think it’s kind of racy for the ballet?” I asked.

  Rake had been pretty insistent on getting me into the vivid red dress after our make up sex, and while high on serotonin, I’d been all about the jaw-dropping dress. The halter top had a v neck to my ribs and the diaphanous skirt sported two slits that rose to top of my thigh over either leg, gauzy red draping over my pale skin. Now I was starting to feel a little shy about the skin on display. I looked amazing, there was no arguing it, but was it too much for a beautiful evening at the theater?

  “The box is really private, so the only one who’s going to get to spend any quality time staring at all of that perfection is Caleb,” Rake said, shrugging and grinning. “And I’m seriously considering coming along just to watch him squirm next to you. When Caleb becomes attracted to someone, he gets it bad.”

  “You should come,” I said.

  Rake shook his head. “Nah. I want this to be for you two. You’ll both enjoy the performance, and you deserve time together. Also, I plan on enjoying the long-distance slow burn of arousal from Caleb’s end of the bond. I’ll get Cyrus to ride it out with me.”

  My jaw dropped slightly as I stared back at Rake through the mirror. “Sorry. Wait. You mean you’ll… You can feel him being turned on through the bond?”

  I had known that, hadn’t I? Had I? Oh, shit.

  Rake grinned and nodded. “It’s hot when it’s for me, but I dunno if it’s a kink of mine or whatever, but I fucking love it when it’s about Leo or you. Like, I’m horny and that’s mine, but it’s also Caleb’s, but also it's about you? I guess it’s like voyeurism.” Rake’s head tilted as he stared at my slack expression. He laughed. “Lollipop, did you not know about that?”

  “I…knew about the bonds, I just…” I shook my head, and let out a little laugh. “I’m glad I never thought that through, I would’ve been too nervous when things started with you and Leo.” Like the time I’d sucked on Leo’s bondmark. I checked the clock and cursed. “I’ve got to get downstairs!”

  “Come on. I low-key want to take, like, prom photos of you and Caleb,” Rake said, rolling off the guest bed and taking my hand.

  “Don’t you dare,” I hissed, bumping my hip against his and enjoying the swish of the skirt over my legs.

  “I won’t ask you to pose, but I’ll totally take candids on my phone,” Rake said. “Oohh, okay. Idea! Someday, can we do a photoshoot?”

  My eyes widened and my heart hammered a quick beat. “Like one of your sexy ones?”

  “I prefer the term erotic, but yeah. If you’re comfortable.”

  Part of me was thrilled by the idea, my body tingling at the offer. The other part of me worried that photos could be permanent and a relationship like this could end badly. I loved Leo and Rake, in a way that couldn’t even be compared to past relationships. I had told Leo I would start considering the idea of becoming pack, but so far he and I were the only ones who'd discussed it, and I hadn't successfully buried the doubt.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said, squeezing Rake’s hand and smiling at him.

  The pack was together in the family living room and right away I picked out Caleb, dressed in a deep blue, exquisitely cut tuxedo, laughing down at Leo sprawled on the couch. Matthieu in his armchair had the first clear glimpse of me, and he sat up straight with a start, his purr carrying through the room and right to where I stood in the doorway. Wes was wandering in from the kitchen, and he choked on his beer as he caught a glimpse of me, his blue eyes wide.

  “Holy shit, gorgeous,” Leo said, sitting up as his eyes made a steady run over me from head to toe and back again. “You are making me…really appreciate the ballet.”

  “I regret saying I wouldn’t come along,” Matthieu murmured from his chair, eyes hot on my skirt where it hinted at the slits in the fabric.

  “You can’t get ready in time, and you can’t go in your shlubby jeans,” Rake said, quick to defend my evening with Caleb.

  Cyrus stood from the armchair he'd been sitting in, reaching me before Caleb shook himself out of his shock. His shoulders blocked the room and my view of the others as he stared at me with an intent and hungry gaze.

  "I have something for you. No balking," Cyrus said, soft but stern.

  I bit down on my own tongue as he pulled a long box out of his pocket, his eyes holding to my face like he was just waiting for me to refuse.

  "You need a necklace. May I?"

  I wasn't sure if it was because of the way he'd spoken to me yesterday, or just pure curiosity at what was in the box, but I didn't have it in me to argue or even demure from the gift. I nodded and swallowed, my head turning as Cyrus moved to stand behind me. Rake was at my side, eyes wide and body vibrating giddily as he watched our exchange.

  A moment later, Cyrus was reaching around me, a glittering collection of delicate chains hanging from his fingers. Tiny stones dripped down like dewdrops, catching the light as Cyrus placed the necklace on me as I lifted my hair for him to clasp it in the back. His thumb stroked the nape of my neck and with the entire pack's eyes on us, I resisted the impulse to shiver at his touch.

  "It's beautiful," I said, glancing down at the cool metal that ran down my chest, a few stones hanging just above the lowest point of my neckline.

  Cyrus hummed and gave me a scorching look as he guided Rake down into the living room to share the armchair he'd left empty. Matthieu rolled his eyes at the pair of them but shared a private smile with me, remaining in his chair as Caleb rounded the couch. Caleb's hand slid into mine as he stood close. In my heels, I only had to tilt my head back a little to stare up at him.

  “You look very dapper,” I greeted.

  Caleb purred a little and leaned in, lips against my ear. “You look like temptation.” I blushed and resisted the urge to fidget. Behind him, I heard Rake’s phone make a telltale ‘click’ of a photo.

  “Ready?” Caleb asked me.

  I nodded, and the room was a chorus of goodbyes.

  “Have her home by midnight,” Leo said, grinning and leaning against the back of the couch, watching us head toward the stairs.

  “Don’t get caught by the ushers like last time!” Rake called, and I turned to look at Caleb in surprise. He was bright red, head shaking.

  “It’s not what it sounds like,” he muttered.

  I had to keep reminding myself to breathe as I watched the dancers below, the orchestra carrying sweeping notes of romance and discordant strikes of conflict up to where Caleb and I sat ensconced in the dark.

  “Do you think that’s cupid?” Caleb murmured in my ear, drawing out goosebumps on the column of my throat.

  I watched the exquisitely liquid dancer who moved through the players like a ghost, manipulating each moment to draw the Montague pack to meeting Juliet.

  “Mm,” I nodded, unable to tear my eyes off the scene.

  The theater was beautiful, grand and striking and contemporary with a ceiling that twisted and turned to create full and rich acoustics. Even better, the private box was genuinely private, not too high above the stage, and with walls that hid the audience from our view and made the performance perfectly central. I’d only ever been to a few theaters when I was younger, mostly as a child, and it was a completely different experience this way. There was no distraction from the stranger sitting next to me, no heads I had to lean carefully around to see past.

&n
bsp; Best of all, the seating was practically a couch, just soft enough to stand the hours of sitting but not too much that I was tempted to fall asleep. Caleb and I were pressed close together, his arm on the back of the bench and around my shoulder, his other hand wrapped up in mine.

  My hand tightened around his as the score drummed and heightened for the Dance of the Knights, one of the most dramatic pieces of music in the ballet, the dancers performing at the Capulets' ball, surging together and spinning apart again. My chest burned with wistful jealousy and appreciation as I watched.

  “Breathe, Lola,” Caleb said, his head lowering and lips grazing over my bare shoulder.

  I gasped, my lungs grateful for the sudden intake of air. I laughed with Caleb, keeping our voices to whispers, and turned to smile at him, breath catching for an entirely different reason.

  Caleb was ridiculously handsome. He was possibly the definition of it, at least traditionally, his blue eyes boring into mine, features classical and perfect. Someone, probably Leo, had helped him style his hair to lie smoothly back, and he looked like an old movie star. I wanted to muss him, make his hair stick out and his cheeks flush and leave his buttons loose. His eyes darkened and he leaned in, catching my lips in a brief caress, and then pulled back as I followed him for more.

  “You’re missing the show,” he breathed.

  I tried to shake the haze out of my head as I turned back to watch the stage. The ghost, or Cupid, was playing a game between the Prince and Tybalt. I couldn’t tell if she was stirring up trouble for the lovers or trying to help, but either way, as a dancer she did it beautifully. My attention was fully fixed to the performance again when I felt my skirt twitch against my bare leg.

  Glancing down, I found Caleb gathering the gauzy fabric of the overskirt in his fist, raising it to my knees. I’d mostly forgotten about my dress once the music started—although I secretly relished the stares Caleb and I received on our way through the crowded theater lobby to our seats. Now I realized that both the slits had parted to reveal the full length of my legs, barely curtained by sheer red fabric.

  “Watch,” Caleb whispered to me, his own eyes on the progress of his hand. His gaze flicked up to mine. “Should I stop?”

  Stop implied he wasn’t done. Stop meant he wanted to…

  I forced myself to breathe again, to turn back to the dancers, but my eyes glanced around the edges of our box. If I couldn’t see the rest of the audience, that meant they couldn’t see us, right? Holy shit, was I actually considering letting Caleb—?

  His fingers grazed the top of my knee as he lifted the sheer skirt back, and I barely withheld the small weak note of relief in my throat.

  Live a little, Lola, I told myself, and the words were so kind for once, I barely registered the exchange between the lovers on the stage before me, Juliet alone with the Montagues, turning gently between the four men.

  Caleb’s fingers were paused on my skin, warm and gentle. Chaste for the moment.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered, if I made any sound at all. It didn’t matter, Caleb was watching my face and he saw the words even if he didn’t hear them.

  For a moment there was no difference, maybe a slight stroke of his fingertips on the inside of my knee. His touch swirled, and I breathed out a quiet shaking sigh of relief. My skin burned. Not just my legs or my sex, but even my chest and shoulders, as if they sensed where Caleb’s eyes landed as he studied my reactions.

  The chorus of dancers returned to the stage for a rowdy last reprisal, but I knew what was coming next. The balcony scene. The romantic pas de cinque between the lovers in one of the quintessentially beautiful romantic scores of history. I stifled a whimper as Caleb’s hand slid back and forth against my inner thighs, his fingertips drawing swirling patterns on one and his knuckles grazing against the other.

  I leaned heavily into him, his nose nuzzling at my throat, lips taking soft sips from my skin. Fuck, I wanted to stretch myself out in offering, but he was right. I wanted to watch the show. Specifically, I wanted to watch the flipping Montague and Juliet balcony scene while one of the sweetest men I knew tortured me with delicate touches.

  Caleb’s purr was soft and quiet, humming in my ear without drowning out the music, and his scent made me languid in his arms, my throat stretched and exposed, legs growing loose. I really hoped no one could see us because even if I realized they could, I probably wouldn’t have asked Caleb to stop at that moment.

  The chorus dancers ran into the wings and the Montagues appeared in the courtyard, elegant leaps and spins in the air, exultant with love at first sight. The balcony extended out from behind a curtain, and the pack wove through its arches as Caleb’s touch returned to my knees, gentle and teasing, almost innocent.

  “Beautiful,” Caleb murmured, almost unconsciously, and I shivered. I slid one heel back beneath the bench, opening my thighs to encourage him to return, and he pressed a long kiss to my shoulder. His palm flattened on the inside of my thigh and stroked up until he reached the crease of my thigh and the edge of my lace underwear.

  I shook in his arms, my eyes fixed to the stage and my chest heaving with stifled, silent breaths. Caleb’s touch was exploratory and gentle as if he were mapping me first. His hand turned under my skirt, the parted fabric rustling, and I bit back a moan as the pad of his thumb found the lips of my sex. His purr deepened for a moment and his tongue swirled over my shoulder.

  I wanted to cry out for him, to pull him over me, but there was something even more delicious about the forced silence, the restraint of his touch, and my inability to encourage him without giving us both away. Juliet was dancing delicately down the length of the balcony, the Montagues spinning under the arches below her, the lovers in secret harmony. I tilted my head, my cheek against Caleb’s hair, and his hands stroked back down my legs in long, firm sweeps, warming my skin.

  I didn’t know how far he would take the game, how far I could stand to be touched without making a sound. He mouthed against my skin, a touch hungrier than a kiss, and his arm slid down my bare back, tugging me around my waist to rest closer against him.

  “I want to touch you, love. To watch you,” he whispered.

  I nodded loosely, and Caleb rumbled with pleasure at my agreement, his hand on my legs moving back up to my sex. He raised his head, forehead pressed to my temple, breath hot on my neck.

  “You’ll be quiet?” he asked.

  I nodded again, and Caleb kissed my cheek before forcing his fingers inside the edge of my underwear to press my bare skin. I nearly broke that promise in the next moment, the shock of one of his fingers sliding smoothly inside of me so sudden, but I bit hard on my lip, and Caleb rewarded me with another kiss on my cheek and his thumb grazing over the hood of my clit.

  I was every bit as aware of Caleb’s stirring touch, his finger pumping lightly inside of me, as I was of the playful and sweet dance on the stage below. Juliet teased the pack from above, before surrendering into their arms to be spun and lifted and poised into every perfect position. Caleb’s touch was patient, as slow and sweet as the music, and it was every bit as hard to remember to breathe as it had been before.

  His other hand cupped over my ribs was firm, and it slid up my side, moving under the red wedge of fabric that covered my breast so he could touch there too. I gripped one of his knees to steady myself, and held onto the bench with the other as he fit another finger inside of me and rubbed harder over my clit. I thought he would take me directly to the end, the music swelling as Juliet connected with one after the other of the packmates. My body was rolling softly into the touches, my breaths coming faster, my eyes desperate to fall shut. And then just as slowly, Caleb retreated, his thumb pulling away, his fingers stilling.

  I whimpered and then swallowed the sound, and Caleb kissed down my jaw and then over my collarbone, his hand still on me as Cupid returned to the stage with the Prince.

  “Please,” I whispered, trying to wiggle forward into his hand.

  “Mmm, I will, love
,” Caleb said, his hand on my side covering my breast and then sliding down again.

  But he didn’t move. I was throbbing around his fingers, still growing wet at his touch, halfway ready to forget the performance and turn myself to face Caleb, to tear his damn tuxedo off and ride him to my own satisfaction.

  At the end of my patience, the lovers returned to the stage and Caleb began to fuck me with his fingers again. I nearly sobbed in relief, my body going limp in his arms as arousal and pleasure started to rise again, faster than before.

  I knew his game now. I would ride it out with him. And later, I would think of some way of paying him back. Probably.

  Every time he felt me start to clench around his fingers, Caleb would slow until stopping, waiting for my body to calm again. This fucking balcony scene was suddenly the longest ballet sequence in history as far as I was concerned, my body hyper-aware of every second that passed. Caleb took me to the edge three more times until there was sweat beaded on my skin and I was near tears, both with the emotion of the dancers and the agony of delayed release.

  Juliet was soft in her lovers’ arms, completely surrendered to their holds, her body like liquid as she was passed from one to the next, each making their vows together in the union of their choreography.

  “Almost there,” Caleb whispered in my ear before sucking on the lobe.

  The lovers retired, the Montagues leaping off the stage, and Cupid returned in all of her elegant and foreboding glory. Caleb’s hand returned to my breast, his fingers pinching my nipple as his fingers thrust with sudden speed.

  “Quiet,” Caleb cautioned as my mouth opened on a silent cry, ecstasy spiking quickly in my core, electrifying the blood in my veins.

  The music warned of what was to come for the lovers below, but all I could hear were mine and Caleb’s breaths and the soft rushing of the coming explosion inside of me. As the lights went down and applause rose from the audience, I turned my head and Caleb took my mouth in a fierce kiss, swallowing my moan. Light flashed behind my squeezed eyes and I grabbed Caleb’s shoulders as I came, shuddering in his arms, fluttering around his fingers, and he kissed me through the storm of heat that flooded my body.