The Alpha Don’s UnMated Bride.

Chapter 11: Full On Grinding

“The line between sin and desire is always blurred in the dark.”-Sh.

Rivera~•

8:30pm

If hell had a waiting room, it would look exactly like this club. It was everything Mamma had trained me against but still here I was.

The dress Zorah insisted I wear was too short, too tight, too revealing and hugged tightly parts of my body I didn’t want noticed, leaving my back completely bare.

We’d officially been here for thirty minutes, and I had already begun to question my decision. Zorah, on the other hand, looked like sin in heels, sleek black dress hugging her figure, blonde hair loose around her shoulders. She had even managed to trick the bodyguards and sneak us out without them noticing.

But nothing prepared me for how loud the music would be, at this point I could barely hear my own thoughts.

Zorah had already draped herself over two different guys, a blond and a brunette, grinding against each one of them in ways I doubted were viewer-appropriate. Each one with their lips buried into her neck.

Meanwhile, I stood awkwardly at the side, lost and confused, clutching a glass of tequila I’d barely sipped.

When she finally noticed me, she pushed away from the two guys. The blond refused to release, clinging like a vampire starved of blood. Honestly, it was disturbing to watch. Even she pulled free dancing her way to where I stood.

“Standing still like a statue isn’t going to prove any point to Zayen.” She yelled over the music.

“Well what am I supposed to do?” I screamed back.

“I don’t know! Dance! Live a little!”

“This isn’t my idea of fun.” I muttered yet again rethinking the idea for the hundredth time, and every single time Mann’s disappointed face stared back at me.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, eyes raking me up and down. “You’re just scared. This is the only way to get on his nerves, trust me. I think your problem is? You think you're still in Direwolf territory. No one’s gonna tell your father. You’re too worked up. “

My jaw clenched. “And you care too little.”

She grinned mischievously. “Exactly. And guess what? I’m having the better night.”

Before I could politely decline the offer, she took the tequila out of my hand and drowned it in a go.

Then, she turned to the bartender behind us. “Two more shots. Each!”

I nearly gasped.

Her gaze fell back on me. “C’mon don’t give me that look, you’ve never been wasted before ?”

When the bartender set the drinks down, she was first to take, drowning the first and then second.

I looked at her then back at alcohol before me. If I came all this way then it only made sense I completed my mission.

I took the shot, ignoring the burn in my throat. First. Second.

Ten minutes later, the room blurred at the edges, music pounding harder than my heartbeat. And as if my body had a mind of its own it swayed to the rhythm. When I glanced up, a brunette stood in front of me, right out of the crowd. He wore a sexy smirk on his face and his lust filled eyes fell on my body. On a normal day, I would’ve had my guards up but today it was all about being reckless.

Before I could question it, his hands were at my waist, pulling me closer.

I didn’t stop him.

Instead, I rolled my hips, recklessly grinding against the thick press of his c**k straining beneath his trousers. The shock of it made me gasp then burn hotter. His groan broke against my ear, low and rough, and instead of shame, a shiver of hunger ripped through me.

His hands clamped around my waist as grinding into him, moving to the rhythm that pounded through the floor.

I pushed harder, pressing into him like I wanted to feel every inch, like I needed it. Rubbing my ass and stomach against the thick erection straining under his trousers.

Then another man closed in from the front, I could barely see his face but the moment my hands fell on his chest, I could tell it was rock hard.. His palms slid down my hips, over the curve of my thighs, claiming me from both sides. I leaned into his chest, my breasts brushing him, while my hand slipped back to tease the hardness behind me.

A shaky laugh spilled from my lips, half thrill, half disbelief. Each touch stripped away the girl Mamma raised, replacing her with someone hungrier, darker, someone who lived for the reckless burn under her skin.

Heat pooled low in my stomach and I let myself forget who I was supposed to be, my last name and that if my family could see me now, they'd choke on their pride.

Every drag of my body against his sent sparks tearing through me, each shift of his hips making me ache in ways I didn’t dare name. His breath fanned hot against my neck, rough and hungry as he buried his head into them while the man in front pressed harder, forcing me to feel him everywhere at once.

Was this the burn of alcohol? The reckless fire rushing through my veins, hearing up my body and skin? Whatever it was, I didn’t hate it.

Their hands roamed dangerously, heat flooding every nerve in my body. I let the music swallow me whole, hips rolling. At this point I doubted it could be called dancing anymore. This was full on grinding, so damn reckless and messy but it felt too good to stop.

I dragged in a harsh breath, pulling back for just a moment, desperate for air.

My eyes wandered around the room for Zorah who was nowhere to be found.

Panic struck until I finally spotted her from my peripheral line of vision. She was held in place by a man I recognized as Axel. One of Zayen’s men.

“s**t!”