Wicked
Page 54

My wild gaze flickered to where the ancient was and saw that Ren had not lied. Tiny, delicious knots formed low in my belly when his hand slipped under the hem of my skirt, causing me to jerk against him, losing the rhythm. I gripped his arm, my nails digging into his skin.
Ren waited.
Because I was obviously losing my mind, I didn't pull his hand away, and that was all the permission he needed. His hand swept up my thigh. There was fire in my blood, incensed by the deep sound that rumbled out of Ren from behind me.
His breath danced over the slope of my neck and then my jaw. He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth as his chest rose and fell heavily against my back.
"Honored," he whispered.
My heart stuttered blindly. Almost as if I was somewhere else, I watched through a haze as the ancient who could recognize who and what I was stalked across the club toward the exit. He was leaving. We were safe, and it was time to stop this, but his fingers were so close, skimming the crease of my thigh, and I couldn't ever remember feeling like this—like I couldn't breathe. Ren cupped me with his hand, and my entire body reacted to the intimate touch.
The thin scrap of lace was no protection. His hand was hot, and as he pressed his palm against the spot he just seemed to know, against the bundle of nerves, I thought I saw stars.
This was insane.
But I burned for his touch—for him. Thoughts of the fae and the ancients fell away. Being distracted as we were was so incredibly dangerous and ridiculously stupid, but as I held on to his forearm, holding his hand there, I shook with a need I didn't even fully understand.
"Fuck," he cursed. "I want to make you come. Right here. Right now."
The words jarred me into reality, but his fingers had found that spot, brushing over the damp stretch of panties and dragging out a bolt of sharp pleasure. The knot in my belly tightened as he trailed his finger back and forth. Desire clouded all sense of rationale.
"Tell me yes," he ordered huskily. "Tell me yes and I'll do whatever you want. Anything you want. Just let me do this."
Shocked by his words—shocked by the way I rode his hand and by how badly I wanted him, I knew I had to end this because of—because of reasons. But I was urging him on, pressing myself against him, wishing deep inside that he'd slip one of those long fingers under my panties. My gaze danced over the club.
"Ivy." He breathed my name like it was a curse.
The word was on the tip of my tongue, forming on my lips as I saw him glide across the floor. Reality rushed me. I jerked forward, breaking free. His hand slipped over my thigh as I whirled around, facing him. I ached—throbbed. My body was screaming what the hell at me, and even my brain was kind of confused. My entire being craved release at his hands.
Ren looked dazed as he stared down at me. He took a step forward, and my heart jumped. Hard desire was etched into his striking features. He no longer looked angelic, but more like a fallen angel hell-bent on claiming me. Two words drew him up short.
"He's here," I gasped out. He stiffened, his gaze never leaving my face. "Marlon is here."
Chapter Thirteen
For a moment, the look that settled into Ren's features said he really didn't give a shit about the ancient, and as my heart raced, I really thought he was going to close the sudden distance between us and we were going to end up like one of those couples on the couches.
But he pulled himself together, and I struggled to ignore the burst of disappointment that lit up my chest. What was that? I didn't need this—whatever this was—with Ren, especially not now.
Dragging in a deep breath, he finally looked away and stared out over the dance floor. A little dazed, I watched the ancient called Marlon take the stairs with long strides. On the second floor, men and women immediately flocked to him, surrounding him near the couches. Two fae joined them, their silvery skin luminous in the brighter lights of the second floor. As Marlon sat on a couch, one of the fae—a tall, elegant blond—sat down beside him, speaking intently.
Instinct flared to life. "I need to get up there."
"What?" Disbelief colored his tone.
"He's up there, and that's why we're here, right? To learn something, and he just got here. He doesn't know who I am." The lights over the dance floor changed colors, going from a soft white to a vibrant blue. "I'm going up."
"Ivy." He grabbed my arm, swinging me back against the hard length of his body. "Are you insane?"
I glared up at him. "No. I'm not insane, you dick. I can get up there."
His eyes narrowed. "I have no doubt in my mind that you can get up there. It's really not that fucking hard. You just walk up the steps, but if he even suspects that you are a part of the Order, I won't be able to get to you in time."
"I don't need you to save me, Ren." I yanked my arm free.
A vein thrummed along his temple as he lowered his head toward mine. "It's too dangerous."
I held his stare. "People are starting to pay attention to us." And that wasn't a lie. A couple of the dancers nearby were watching us. "If we keep this up, the fae are going to figure it out on their own. So let me go. I'll head up there, and you'll go to the bar."
Several seconds passed, and then he nodded curtly. "Go."
"I didn't need your permission," I spat back.
Ren smirked. "Honey, I know what you need and you're going to get it."