I’m so wet and slick I’m dripping, and I whimper as his hand brushes my core, my pussy clenching with the desire to be fucked. His fingertip teases my clit, and though my mind says that I don’t want to explode in front of these people, I can’t stop myself. I writhe against his hand, seeking pleasure—seeking Riley. Harder and faster until, oh, dear God, I can’t hold back any more. The orgasm barrels down over me, ripping me into a million pieces until, finally, I come back to myself, limp and sated over the legs of this man who’s shown me more in one night than I could ever have dreamed.

“Come on,” he says gently, carefully adjusting my pants and zipping me back up. “We need to go.”

“Go? Why?” My entire body is on fire. I don’t want to go. I want more.

“Because I need to be inside you, and you’re not ready for me to fuck you in public.”

“Oh.” I swallow, desperately wanting to be home now, but at the same time remembering why we came in the first place. “Do—do you think he noticed us? My stalker, I mean.”

One of his brows lifts. “Why don’t we make sure of it? Why don’t I show off my beautiful sub?”

I meet his eyes, then realize what he means. I swallow, but I don’t protest. And I manage to hold my head up high as he leads me toward the exit on my leash, my bodice still wide open, my breasts completely exposed and dressed up in the fancy nipple clamps with the thin silvery chain.

Riley pauses when we reach the door that leads to the first room. The one that is really just a bar with snacks and virgin drinks. “I’m going to take you through like this,” he says.

I press my lips tight together. Not in silent protest of what he’s told me, but because I’m afraid that otherwise I’ll say pineapple. And the truth is, I really don’t want to. I want to do this. I want to feel it.

He’s taken me this far. I want all of it.

He hesitates long enough to allow me to protest, and when I don’t, he takes me the rest of the way through. Heads turn as I walk behind him, and while part of me trembles with the excitement of being on display, another part of me wonders if my stalker is in the crowd. If, perhaps, this will push him to move again. And if, just maybe, that by taking this risk I’ve paved the way to catching him.