Lana's POV
"Adrian, the cameras..." I whispered, wanting to move a little away from him.
I could hear the little tremble in my voice as the shutters continued to click.
"You remember what you told me. You said…."
"I said many things, Lana," Adrian interrupted, his voice still very smooth, with a low rumble that didn't match the predatory look in his eyes.
He didn't bother to look at the photographers or even the people who had stopped their brief conversation.
He was still staring at his son with a look of satisfaction in his eyes.
"But plans changed when someone tried to piss me off. Forgetting I could destroy him with the tip of my fingers."
He didn't wait for me to recover before he gripped my hand with his hot and calloused palm and led me toward the upper deck of the yacht.
As we moved, the music from the lounge began to fade, replaced by the heavy thrum of the engine and the rhythmic slap of the dark waves against the hull.
"Adrian, wait!" Michael's voice cracked behind us.
I heard his heavy footsteps following us, walking desperately with a sense of panic.
"You can't just…. Is this how you want to roll? You don't even know who she is!"
Adrian stopped abruptly near the entrance to the VIP steering lounge.
It was a semi-private area shielded by frosted glass and heavy velvet curtains, overlooking the lower deck where the party was still in full swing.
He turned slowly, his silhouette was terrifyingly broad against the moonlight.
I didn't know why I kept noticing, but his physique that night seemed to turn on a little pink bud between my legs.
"I know exactly who she is, Michael. She is the woman I have chosen. And she bears the name you've spent your whole life disgracing. She is a Que now!"
He shoved the curtain aside, pulled me into the shadows of the small, secluded balcony that was barely large enough for two people.
"Stay here," Adrian commanded Michael, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy level.
"Or come closer and watch how a real man keeps what's his. The choice is yours. Son!."
Then he gave a small hiss.
He didn't close the curtain all the way.
There was still a small gap, and light passed through, and I could see Michael standing just five feet away, frozen in the hallway, his face pale with a mix of horror and sick fascination.
The air out here smelled heavily of salt mixed in the freezing air, but Adrian's body was like a furnace.
The touch of his palm on my body sent the chills away.
He backed me against the railing, with the cold metal biting into my lower back.
But I didn't care.
At that point, I just need to satisfy the urge that has begun to build inside me.
"Adrian, he's right there, He can see us." I gasped, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. He slowly teased my skin with the edge of his palm.
I could feel every beat from his heart.
Steady.
Slow. And powerful.
"Good," Adrian murmured.
He didn't look at the curtain.
He looked at my mouth, his thumb dragged across my lower lip again, cleaning the last of the smeared gloss.
"I want him to see. I want him to remember this every time he closes his eyes. I want him to know that every inch of you he thought he owned... Now answers to me."
Immediately he reached down, his hand slid under the silk of my dress, the friction of his rough palm rubbed hard against my thigh making my breath hitch.
"Who does this heart race for Lana?" he half-whispered, half-shouted against my ear, with his teeth grazing my lobe.
"Is it the boy standing outside?"
"You," I breathed the word like it came out by force from the sheer weight of his presence.
"I can't hear you".
"It's you." My voice got louder.
I heard a choked sound from behind the curtain.
It sounded like pure agony and it was from Michael.
He was still there.
He was watching.
I'd hate to admit it, but the thought of seeing him there while his father did dirty things to my body almost made me cum.
I guess this was the height of revenge I never thought of.
And Adrian's smirk was sharp enough to cut glass as he turned to look at Michael.
He hiked my dress higher, his movements intentional and slow, making sure every rustle of fabric was audible to the ghost in the hallway.
"Then let's give him a lesson in respect," Adrian groaned, his mouth finding the sensitive curve of my neck.
"Let's show him exactly what he lost."
He kissed my neck before bending down to the little hot thing that had been throbbing for his attention.
He swiftly slid my panties to the side while his hot tongue did justice to my pussy.
His left hand held my leg up his shoulder while he used his hand to hold me still and in place.
I didn't know what thrilled me more.
The thought that someone watched or the fact that anyone could easily see us.
The risk was suffocating.
Any second, a guest could walk by.
Any second, Michael could burst through that curtain.
But as Adrian's weight pressed me into the railing and his hands claimed me with a terrifying hunger, the fear began to melt into a dark, twisted rush of adrenaline.