Chapter Two

Eric's POV

My eyes stayed glued to the door; it's been two hours. Two fucking hours with a lot of pleading before Mike agreed to meet me here, and still he has not even shown up; neither has he given me a call or a text to let me know that he was not coming. He just left me hanging.

I fetched my phone and typed another text: “Babe, please just give me a chance to explain everything to you. Don’t give up on us.” It showed two ticks; he had read it, and yet no answer, not even typing.

Thankfully, the club was holding a masked party, so it had my face covered. No one would know that the prince of Elorida was sitting here with a crestfallen face as the love of his life snubbed him.

With every minute that passed, my hope for him showing up reduced drastically.

“One more glass,” I said, tossing my glass to the bartender. He looked at me with soft eyes and shook his head. He has seen me ordering countless glasses while waiting for Mike.

Worse still, the alcohol was beginning to have an effect on me. He gave me a sad smile before walking to attend to others. I took the glass in a gulp, the burn settling down in my chest.

“Is this seat taken?” a deep baritone voice asked. I raised my eyes from my half-filled glass and looked at the man who just spoke.

My breath hitched the second our eyes met. His intense blue eyes stared at me, sending shivers down my spine. He should probably be in his late thirties. I sucked in a deep breath trying to gain control of myself.

My eyes subconsciously swept round his whole body. From his long, dark, curly hair that stopped at his neck to his dark, bushy eyebrows, blue yes, chiselled jaw. My eyes moved to his neck, and I swallowed hard.

He had one of my greatest weak points. Adam's apple. He was putting on black trousers paired with a white long-sleeved shirt. His sleeves rolled to his arms, revealing his vein filled arms and hairy skin.

“When you are done drooling. You should answer my question. Is this seat taken?” he asked again. I swallowed hard, my speech coming back to me.

Would Mike come or not? What if he does not come? He could be out there spending the night with someone else. I swallowed hard.

Can't let this one pass me by. Not like I was going to fuck him or anything, but to just enjoy the beautiful sight. I shook my head, feeling my cheek becoming red. “No, you can take it,” I said.

He gave me a curt nod as a smirk graced his face. He turned to the bartender and asked for a drink.

The bartender smiled when he saw us. Immediately assumed that he was the one I was waiting for. “He almost had a panic attack thinking you won’t come,” he whispered as he set the drink on the table.

The stranger's eyes looked at me with a raised eyebrow as he sipped his wine slowly. “So this seat is for someone?” he asked.

I shrugged, “I don’t think he would come. I have been waiting for two hours now,” I said.

He shook his head. “ I see. So what if he walked in as we were talking? What would you do?” He asked, his deep baritone voice sending chills around my whole body. His look was too intense; he was too goddamn attractive.

I could feel every bit of my patience slipping off me. Every integrity I had to not cheat was flying out the window. “ I don’t know. Depend on how well we had gotten close to at that time,” I said.

He smiled, his eyes glittering with nothing but lust and desire. “You are beautiful,” he said casually, his eyes not leaving mine as he drank his wine.

. A pink hue covered my cheek. I cleaned my sweaty palms on my jean trousers. “Thank you,” I said in a hushed voice.

He nodded with a smile, "And you are blushing. I like it. I like it when my guys blush.” Gosh! What the hell has gotten over me?

I have a boyfriend who I am trying to make up with, and here I am, blushing over someone's compliment.

Mike would be so angry at me if he found out. I better leave before I regret my actions. “Erm, I have to go,” I said and reached out for my phone, which was lying on the table.

He held my hands. Stopping me on track. My skin burned with his contact. Looked like I was under fire. I could feel my erection gradually growing.

“Stay,” he said, his voice laced with a plead. His hands left me, and just when I thought the torture was over, his fingers placed on my skin again, trailing down to my hands gently, sending more shivers down my dick.

Thank fuck. I was putting on tight trousers; I bet my dick was fully out already.

“Damien, you came,” a woman said as she walked towards him. He smiled, his eyes still on me. “Get down on your knees,” he told the woman.

she immediately went on her knees as he smiled at her. He mouthed to me, “Watch.”

The woman slowly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his abs. I swallowed hard. The urge to be the woman and not her came running down my spine. He took the half-filled glass and brought the glass to his lips and slowly poured the drink down his skin.

I watched with hungry eyes as the drink travelled down his throat to his six-packed chest. What the hell. She immediately placed her tongue on his throat, licking the drink down, one of her hands between his nipples.

The urge to be the woman doing this overshadowed me. I wanted to be anything but the watcher. Wanted to be the drink or the woman. Let my tongue be on his skin. Tasting the alcohol, his wear and the sin.

Pain settled on my groin; I could feel my painful erection. This was pure seduction. “Get out,” he ordered. She stopped and walked away.

He stood up, exposing his chest, and walked around to my side. “You could be the one doing that. Taking my cock,” he whispered as his hot breath burnt my skin.

“ I have a boyfriend,” I whispered.

His hands moved to my chest, stopping at my nipple. “I don’t care,” he said as he pinched my nipple.

“I don’t want you,” I lied with ease.

He chuckled, his deep chuckle vibrating against my skin. “Your dick says otherwise,” he said as his hands trailed down to my erection.

His hands traced it, making my erection harden till it cost me pain.

“Fuck me,” I moaned subconsciously. As his hands grabbed my dick. He turned my face around and slammed his lips into it. He tasted just like I expected. Like sin, lust, desire and anger, and the worst thing was that I had willingly given myself up to be used as he willed.

Our lips connected with each other as we kissed, desire matching desire. I closed my eyes, pouring everything I had into it. All my emotions, including my pain, heartbreak, and grief. Everything in it.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered as he pulled away. I followed him blindly, not caring where the hell he was going to take me to.