Ryan tightened his grip on Angel's waist, holding her firmly as she continued to grind against him with slow, torturous movements. The thin fabric of his trousers was soaked with her slickness, her desire marking him as surely as if she had tattooed herself onto his skin.
She whimpered again, soft and desperate, pressing herself more firmly against the rigid bulge trapped beneath his clothes.
"Please," she whispered, her voice trembling with need.
Ryan tilted his head, studying her like a predator studies a prize it has already claimed.
"You're not finished dancing yet," he said, voice a low rumble of command.
Angel bit her lip, a flush spreading across her cheeks and chest as she obeyed.
She sat up straighter on his lap, her bare breasts brushing lightly against the front of his shirt, sending jolts of pleasure through both of them. Then, with agonizing slowness, she began to move again.
Her hips rolled in a slow, hypnotic figure-eight, grinding her soaked folds against the thick line of his cock through the fabric. Her hands trailed up his chest, over his shoulders, sliding behind his neck to pull herself closer.
Ryan let her.
Let her dance for him.
Let her surrender herself completely to the fire building between them.
Angel leaned in, her lips brushing his jawline, down to the strong column of his throat. She pressed soft, fluttering kisses along his skin, worshipping him as she moved.
Her nipples brushed his chest, pebbling harder from the friction and the heat.
Her hands moved lower, trailing down his torso, nails scratching lightly through the thin fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel him, to claim him.
But Ryan wasn't done playing yet.
He shifted beneath her, letting the thick head of his cock rub directly against her swollen, dripping entrance through the barrier of his pants.
Angel gasped, her body shuddering with need.
"You're soaking me, little angel," he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and sinful. "Is that how badly you want me?"
"Yes," she whimpered, grinding harder against him. "Please... I need you."
Ryan chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through her body.
"Good," he said. "Then you'll be patient."
Without warning, he grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her back with one hand, pinning her arms together. The movement made her arch beautifully, thrusting her breasts forward in offering.
Ryan's free hand moved to her chest, cupping one breast possessively, his thumb brushing across the hardened peak with slow, teasing strokes.
Angel moaned, straining against his hold, her body a taut wire of need and surrender.
"You look so beautiful like this," Ryan whispered, squeezing her breast harder. "Completely naked. Completely helpless. Completely mine."
She whimpered, her hips bucking against him.
"Do you want me to touch you more?" he asked, his voice pure sin.
"Yes... please," Angel gasped.
Ryan smirked.
"Then you'll ask properly."
She bit her lip, eyes shining with desperate need.
"Please, sir," she whispered. "Touch me. Use me. Make me yours."
The words hit him like a drug.
He released her wrists and immediately seized her hips, lifting her slightly before slamming her back down against his cock—still clothed—but the sheer pressure made her cry out, her body convulsing with pleasure.
Ryan finally moved his mouth to her breast, sucking the dusky nipple into his mouth, biting down gently before soothing the sting with his tongue.
Angel threw her head back, a broken moan tearing from her throat.
He lavished attention on one breast, then the other, alternating between soft kisses and sharp nips that made her writhe and beg under his hands.
When she was trembling with need, her body begging for more, Ryan finally released her.
He gripped her waist and lifted her off his lap, setting her gently onto the velvet seat beside him.
Angel watched him with wide, desperate eyes as he slowly, deliberately undid the buttons of his shirt, exposing the hard, sculpted planes of his chest and abdomen.
Her hands twitched, wanting to touch, to worship.
But Ryan shook his head.
"Not yet."
He unzipped his trousers next, releasing his thick, throbbing cock, the sight making Angel whimper in anticipation.
Ryan spread his legs and leaned back, cock standing tall and heavy against his abdomen.
He beckoned her forward with one finger.
"Come here," he commanded.
Angel crawled between his legs without hesitation, her every movement a silent plea for his touch.
She wrapped her small hand around the base of his shaft, stroking him slowly, reverently, her tongue darting out to lick the bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.
Ryan growled low in his chest, his hands tangling in her hair.
Angel took him into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks, sucking him deeply as her hand stroked what her mouth couldn't reach.
She worshipped him with her mouth, her tongue teasing the sensitive underside, her lips tight around him.
Ryan let her work, his hands guiding her rhythm, until he was throbbing with the need to be inside her.
He pulled her off him with a wet pop, making her whine in protest.
"Enough," he growled.
He stood, towering over her, then lifted her effortlessly and placed her back onto his lap—this time skin-to-skin.
He lined himself up with her dripping entrance, rubbing the thick head of his cock against her folds, coating himself in her slickness.
Angel gasped, her whole body trembling.
"Beg for it," Ryan commanded, voice a harsh whisper against her ear.
"Please, sir," she sobbed. "I need you inside me. I need you to own me."
Ryan grinned wickedly.
And then he slammed into her with a single, brutal thrust.
Angel screamed—pure, raw pleasure—as he filled her completely, her tight walls clenching around him like a vice.
He set a slow, punishing rhythm—deep, measured strokes that made her whimper and cry out with every thrust.
Ryan stayed seated, holding her by the hips, forcing her to ride him exactly how he wanted, using her body for his pleasure—and hers.
She melted against him, her breasts pressed to his chest, her mouth open in silent screams as he drove her higher and higher.
Her first orgasm tore through her like lightning, making her sob against his neck, her nails digging into his shoulders.
Ryan didn't stop.
He flipped her around so she faced away from him, pulling her back onto his cock, pounding into her from below as he reached around to toy with her clit.
Angel writhed in his lap, lost in a haze of pleasure, her body trembling violently.
When she came again, screaming his name, Ryan finally let himself go—thrusting deep, emptying himself inside her with a hoarse roar.
They collapsed together in the booth, sweaty, breathless, utterly spent.
Ryan cradled her trembling body against his chest, stroking her hair soothingly.
Angel clung to him, her body marked, claimed, loved.
She was his now.
And she would never be alone again.