‘Have fun.’ Leah watched them go, then leant to drag a finger through the raspberry sauce on Brandon’s plate of chocolate cake. She touched the tip of her tongue to it, then offered it to him. ‘Yum.’
He took her fingertip in his mouth and sucked gently in a way that sent tendrils of pleasure unfurling all through her. ‘Mmmmm.’
Leah’s hand slipped under the table and cupped the bulge at his crotch. ‘Mmmm.’
Brandon pushed his plate away and kissed her. ‘I’m done.’
‘Ah ah,’ Leah said. ‘I’d hate for you to miss out on something good. You should finish.’
His breathing quickened as his tongue swept hers and he pulled back just enough to murmur, ‘This is better.’
Leah sat back against the booth’s high leather seat. She stroked him idly as they kissed, interrupted only by the waiter asking if they wanted another bottle. Since the one they had was only half gone, she shook her head.
Brandon filled her glass, then his. ‘Good stuff.’
She rubbed his cock again. ‘This is better.’
His tongue wet his mouth. He was hard under her fingers, and she took mercy on him. It had to be uncomfortable. But when she tried to withdraw her hand, he made a noise of protest.
‘I can’t get you off right here,’ Leah said into his ear as she added a nibble that made him shiver. ‘It would make a mess and would be uncomfortable for you. Really. It’s for your own good.’
He groaned. ‘Leah …’
‘On the other hand,’ she told him, ‘you can certainly use your hand on me.’
Brandon laughed and as the jazz trio struck up another song, a singer joined them. Her slow, sultry crooning was the perfect background for him sliding his fingers up her thigh and past the lacy stocking tops, to stroke her clit through her panties.
‘Like this?’
She nodded and settled back against him, facing the stage so she could watch the show. Most of the other people were still too busy eating and drinking to pay attention to the singer, who looked every inch the part of a 1930s blues singer, right down to the flower in her hair. Leah didn’t know the words to the woman’s song, but the music flowed over her, sweet and slow and sensual, a total ear-fuck.
Brandon’s hand moved slowly, too. Fingertip barely circling. Anyone walking by would see a couple intent on the performance, not a man with his hand between a woman’s legs. Making her come. Not that she was close, anyway. Not yet.
Brandon knew how to ease her into it, keep her humming. He paused every few strokes. His breath heated the back of her neck and his lips traced her ear. Her nipples stood out, sharp, hard points, inside her gown. Leah arched slightly, pressing herself back against his cock.
‘You’re so fucking sexy,’ he murmured in her ear as his fingers moved again. He shifted to dip inside her panties and find her slick arousal. Her cunt clenched and Leah bit back a moan. ‘I want to put my fingers in your pussy and feel how hot you are.’
God, she loved it when he talked dirty. It made her mindless. Made her want to writhe, to sink down on his prick and ride him. Instead she kept still, opening her legs to let him get inside her as far as he could the way they sat.
Brandon took her clit between his thumb and finger and rolled it gently, then tugged. Just once, then again. Stopped. Her muscles quivered and her hips tilted, just a little, pressing herself towards his hand. A couple, drinks in hand, stood just a foot or so away from the table to watch the show. Leah could hear every word of their conversation and knew without a doubt they’d be able to hear her if she cried out.
‘So fucking beautiful.’ Brandon tugged her clit again and waves of desire broke over her. ‘I can feel you getting so tight, every muscle. I want to make you feel so good you come all over my hand.’
Leah’s hips rocked as she clenched internal muscles but barely moved anything else. Her fingers bore down on his arm, squeezing. Brandon chuckled into her ear, the heat of his breath sending a chill through her. She felt feverish, more than a little tipsy, drunk not on champagne but on his love. On this pleasure, gained from his hand, his fingers, from the sigh of his breath on her skin.
Brandon tugged her clit, then stroked. She was so wet his fingers slid over her without skidding or catching. He pinched her clit again between his thumb and finger and held it without moving.
Her heart beat heavily in her ears, in her throat, and in her clit. The pounding of her blood felt as though it pushed her against his fingers. Her inner thighs trembled. She tasted sweat on her upper lip. His pinch loosened and the sudden lack of pressure nearly sent her over, but then he took her clit again and she bucked.
The man next to their table looked over brow furrowed. Leah froze, eyes on the singer who was now moving her hips in sensual circles Brandon echoed with his fingers. Leah held her breath until spots danced in front of her eyes, then let it out.
‘Do you want to come?’ he asked her, voice low so only she could hear.
Leah didn’t trust her voice to answer. Nor could she nod, tense and stiff as she was with waiting for her body to take over and send her soaring. Brandon’s laugh tripped up and down her body. He worked her clit a little bit harder until she gripped his arm so tightly she was sure she’d bruise him even through the thickness of his tux jacket.
‘Should I make you come?’
Waiting for her to give him permission. How he was holding her off, Leah couldn’t tell. Everything in her strained towards release. She didn’t think she could have stopped herself, but
