Page 83 of Knight’s Dominion

A spotlight hit her, revealing her to the crowd, and the opening notes of her song started. She strutted to the chair waiting on the other side of the stage, and dragged it with her, hips swinging, to the middle of the floor.

She was going for slow and sensual to start with. The tease began with unbinding her long blond hair and letting it fall down her back. Moving around the chair, she sat and arched against it, sliding her hands from her throat, down over her breasts, stomach, and thighs, then fisting the hem of her skirt, she dragged it higher.

Lifting her hand to her mouth, eyes wide, she spread her legs slightly, giving just a peek of her panties. “Oops.” With the skirt still hitched up, she spun and bent over, rolling her hips.

A dark, volatile wave of emotion washed over her, stealing her breath, but not in a bad way.

Chaos.

He was watching her.

The wave thickened, wrapped around her like a sensual haze, and for some insane reason, she let it take hold, embracing it. With her back still turned, she let her jacket slide from her shoulders and pulled off the glasses, dropping them with the jacket.

The skirt went next, right as the music picked up pace, going from slow and easy to moody. Heavier. It pumped through the big speakers on either side of the stage, and she let it move through her, her hands drifting lower, then sliding between her thighs.

Chaos’s mood changed, she sensed it brushing over her skin, rolling through her. Anger, jealousy, and lust blasted her from all sides, that iron-clad control of his was slipping and he didn't like it one bit. She craved his surrender to it in a way she didn't understand.

The corset and panties stayed on, for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to take them off. And as the final notes of the song died away and the lights dimmed, no longer blinding her to the audience, she looked out. She didn’t have to search hard.

He stood close to the stage, looming in a way that warned every other male in the room to stay back, staking a claim he didn't have a right to, not really, not with their agreement. Still, a thrill of excitement shot through her.

His dark eyes were trained on her, unwavering, predatory, filled with heat and fire...promise.

She spun around, giving him her back, and stalked off, hoping like hell her legs would hold out with her knees suddenly shaking.

In the dressing room, she quickly slid on a pair of jeans, but left on the corset, then headed back out to the club. Like she'd promised, she headed back to their newbie at the bar. And as she moved, she could feel Chaos’s eyes on her, burning into her the entire way.

Do not look at him.

He’d see it in her eyes that her dance had been for him, only him. "You getting the hang of things?” she asked the female when she reached the bar.

The girl stared at her, eyes wide, and Grace realized just how young she was, maybe nineteen, twenty, and her chest squeezed.

"How did you learn to dance like that?" she asked, awe in her voice.

Grace forced a smile. “Someone taught me when I was about your age.”

"Can you teach me?"

Had she ever been this naive, this innocent? “You'll make decent tips waiting tables, you don't need to rush into anything.”

The girl frowned at her, more than likely assuming something else was behind her motives in discouraging her. “I’d be good. I know I would."

Grace rested her hand on the younger female’s shoulder. "I don't doubt it. You still want to dance in six months, when you’ve been here a little longer, I’ll teach you, okay?”

The girl’s eyes slid from Grace’s, moved behind her, and the frown vanished, her mouth dropping open.

Grace knew who was standing behind her before she turned to face the leader of the Knights of Hell. A warrior. A protector of her people. Her mate. She'd felt him stalking her like prey from a distance since she’d walked back onto the floor.

She’d relished every second.

"Let's go," he said before she could get a word out.

Her heart pounded in her chest. "I'm working, Mr. Personality, and despite what you think, the world doesn't stop turning because of you.” She didn’t know why she was fighting this, why she was grasping on to that last bit of the anger she carried from her past.

Because your anger is all you have left of your family.

The muscle in his square jaw jumped. "I've cleared it with Vince.”