Page 27 of Sweet Surrender
“Not as delicious as the suya, but I’ll take it,” Knight said, lips quirked.
Saint laughed. “Do you want to dance?” His heart skipped a beat as he asked.
“I would love to dance,” Knight replied immediately.
“Bottoms up?” he suggested, his voice husky.
Knight nodded, and they tossed the drinks back, both of them grimacing comically. They popped the pieces of fruit into their mouths to mellow the harsh taste, then Saint pulled Knight into the house through the back door, where the loud music was coming from.
They went through the kitchen, passing more folks chatting and drinking around the island, then came out into a large sitting room. All the furniture had been removed, leaving the sitting room and connecting dining room as the dancefloor.
The crowd, Saint included, screamed when the opening notes toGirlfriendby Ruger came on, all of them bursting into song once the lyrics began.
They had to let go of each other’s hands to properly dance, but at the moment, even though he missed the grounding warmth of Knight’s hand in his, Saint didn’t mind. The people around themdidn’t seem to care that they were strangers; they welcomed Saint into the crowd like he was one of them already, singing loudly and cheering when Saint closed his eyes and let the music take him.
When he opened his eyes again, he only then noticed that Knight had eyes for no one and nothing but him. The crowd swelled and undulated around them, moving them around the room like a wave that had come alive, but Knight didn’t once look away.
Saint refused to duck his head, refused to retreat, basking in the demon’s unabashed attention, once again wishing the night could last forever.
Knight knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed like, the moment Teresa had dragged them to the backyard and Saint had joined their hands, some invisible weight Saint had been carrying since Knight had first met him had fallen off his shoulders.
If Knight had been in his demon form, his eyes would have been a telling, burning red. His wings would have arched high over his back, posturing for Saint’s attraction and approval.
At some point, Teresa reappeared, joining them on the dancefloor, a milky yellow drink in a tall glass in her right hand. She’d also brought a small tray of what she called jello shots. They took three cups each, Knight shaking his head when the alcohol went straight to his head.
As a demon, he had a better resistance than humans, so the effects of the alcohol wore off quickly before he could truly feel it. Saint, on the other hand, was beginning to feel the full effects.
His eyes had gone half-lidded, his full glossy lips slightly parted. His body had loosened even further, the fluid movement of his hips hitting Knight like the song of a siren.
“Drunk already?” Teresa teased. “You’re such a lightweight.”
“Ay! Abeg, leave me alone,” Saint said, but his loose grin took any sting from the words.
Knight felt himself burn with a mixture of jealousy and arousal when Saint’s hands came to rest on Teresa’s generous hips, her hands going over his shoulders. Both of them moved close and started grinding at the next song. Her nails were the opposite of Saint’s in a glittering white, every inch of her covered in that same colour almost glowing in the flashing lights stuck to the ceiling.
They spun around at some point so Saint had his back to Knight, while Teresa was facing him.
She grinned conspiratorially, winking at him and glancing pointedly at Saint with the corners of her eyes. “Wanna cut in?” she mouthed from over his shoulder. “This is your chance!”
Knight didn’t hesitate. Pretending like she hadn’t suggested it, he moved up to tap her shoulder.
Teresa happily bowed out, finishing her drink in a quick gulp. “I’m going to get more shots!” She smacked a quick kiss on Saint’s cheek. “In case I don’t see you after this, make sure to find me when you decide to leave!”
“Of course!” Saint said.
His eyes widened then darkened when Knight slipped into his waiting arms. Just like Saint had done with Teresa, Knight let his hands rest on Saint’s hips. He leaned down a little so Saint could wrap his arms around his neck.
Saint slid one thick thigh between his, properly aligning their hips. The next song had a beat slow enough that Saint could wind his waist, Knight following his lead. Their eyes locked.
Saint’s breath shuddered out of him, Knight also exhaling shakily. He’d never danced like this before, eyes connected, hips rolling like they were fucking with their clothes on. It should’ve felt sweltering with all the bodies crushed in and around them, the music almost too loud, but Knight wasn’t aware of anything else but the man in his arms.
When the song switched to another slow, pounding beat, Saint twisted around, grabbing Knight’s hands to keep them on his hips. He leaned back against Knight’s chest and resumed the sensual movement of his waist. Knight felt like he was having some kind of religious experience, every inch of him over sensitised and burning.
Like Saint could feel Knight’s need, he slid his fingers on top and between Knight’s, then began to move his hands over Saint’s undulating body, over every intimate dip and curve and how they changed shape with each movement.
“Fuck,” Knight growled, dipping his head down.
Saint obediently tilted his head to the side, exposing the long column of his throat. Knight nosed along the length of it, then placed a kiss at the dip between where his neck met his shoulder.
