* * *
I close my eyes. I need the darkness, need to come down from sensory overload. I attempt to ignore my open legs, the view on display for the two men in the room. I touch myself tentatively, my finger sliding up and down my wet slit, slow gentle strokes that fan the already raging fire.
* * *
“Is that what you like?” I flinch at his voice, closer than I expected, and open my eyes, seeing him above me, looking down in between my legs, his hand moving up and down his delicious shaft.
* * *
I nod. “Initially, yes.”
* * *
“Keep going.”
* * *
I close my eyes again, my fingers never pausing in their travels, moisture collecting between my lips, my fingers grazing hot liquid as they move slowly and leisurely over the edge of my sanity. I allow one finger to dip in, to test my readiness, and drag some of that moisture higher, to the sensitive bud that is my pleasure center, circling the skin gently. I release a low moan, the building pleasure too great to contain, and arch my back, lifting slightly off the table as my fingers dance lightly through a torturous tease.
* * *
My pussy is beginning to respond, to flex and pant, saliva dripping from its eager lips. I can feel my clit taking attention, hardening beneath my gentle swipes, each circle moving a little closer. I am a sadistic bitch when it comes to masturbation, and my body loves me for it. I give until it wants and then I withdraw, coaxing my arousal out only to deny it. I won’t come until it begs, until it screams for mercy, the explosion sweeter and more intense the longer I fuck with its mind.
* * *
I am reminded of my situation by a bite. Gentle scrapes of teeth against my nipple, first the left, and then the right. His mouth softens, sucking them into the heat of his mouth, his tongue dancing over the rough path of his teeth, my hand reaching up and grabbing his head, gripping that delicious mess of hair and bringing his head harder on my breasts, the sensation too incredible not to savor.
* * *
He yanks my hand off of his head, shoving it back between my legs, his message clear. I moan in frustration, stopping the sound when his mouth returns, visiting my other breast, the combination of soft mouth and hard teeth driving me wild.
* * *
“I’m close,” I gasp, my sex contracting and screaming for release, my clit one swipe away from explosion. His mouth moves between my breasts, his fingers replacing his tongue, dragging them over my nipples, gentle and light enough to make them ache for more. His mouth, that incredible, hot machine of ecstasy, moves, traveling into the curves of my neck, and all I can think about is how it would feel between my legs.
* * *
“Come,” he orders, his mouth lifting off my skin, one of his hands gripping my face and turning it to his, his blue eyes holding me hostage. “Come,” he repeats, need blatant in his taunt, strong face.
* * *
I try to keep the eye contact, try to give him what I think he wants, but it is too strong – that final moment that my clit has been waiting for, that perfect swipe across its swollen surface has my eyes rolling back, my world temporarily going black, his blue eyes disappearing from sight as my back arches and I explode in
* * *
one.
perfect.
moment.
CHAPTER 8
I am weak, drained, my body losing all muscle function as the last tendrils of pleasure gently fade away, aftershocks twitching my body.
* * *
“Get up and get on the bed. I’m going to fuck the hell out of you.” His voice is hoarse with need, the order almost a plea despite the command in his tone.
* * *
I roll to one side, my limbs sluggish, and sit up, eyeing the drop from the table to the floor. I am aided by his hands, helping me to my feet and then guiding me down a short hall and into the bedroom.
* * *
He spins me slowly, the dim lights of the bedroom blurring, and then I am facing him, his mouth finding mine, his hands gripping my waist and lifting me up and backward, onto the soft bed. I lay back and he crawls above me, the thick length of him stiff and heavy against my thighs. I part my legs and he settles between them, his mouth brushing across my throat, soft kisses alternating with delicate nips, his tongue teasing and torturing the hollows of my neck.
* * *
His hand reaches down, adjusting his cock, the hard shaft heavy and warm between my legs. He grinds forward, a hard thrust that creates a delicious friction between my legs. His lips pull off my neck, hovering above my mouth and he changes the pace, shortening his movement as he smoothly slides his bare cock over me. I inhale sharply, the ache between my legs growing, each withdrawal giving me hope that he will move it two inches lower and bury it inside of me.
* * *
I’m going to lose my mind. Between our bodies, I can almost feel the crackle of intense need. I can feel my heartbeat between my legs, the jitter of my muscles, everything itching for his touch. Everything about him screams domination, his touches hard and aggressive, each order sending a jolt of arousal through me. I’ve never yearned for submission before, never felt so eager to offer my body for his use.
* * *
He pulls off me, disappearing for a brief moment, then returns, his hands rolling over his cock, shielding it with a thin skin of latex. There is the soft shift of the mattress as he climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs. His eyes meet mine. “Tell me what you want.”
* * *
I don’t respond. I can’t think, can’t even formulate a thought, not when his cock is bobbing before me, just inches from my wet cunt. He grips my legs, pulling me closer, and opening my legs and body to him. His stiff head bumps against my swollen lips, and I inhale sharply. It’s the look in his eyes that is the most arousing. Possessive, dominating, with a fire behind them that both terrifies and electrifies me. There is a raw need in their depths, a demand in their intensity. He leans forward, grips the back of my neck and pulls me closer, his breath hot on my lips. “Tell me,” he repeats.
* * *
I resist, my eyes glued to his, my body swooning when he reaches down, pressing his thick tip against my soaked opening. My eyes snap closed, the pending sensation too good not to savor. He shoves forward in one tiny motion, giving me just one thick inch, and I hiss through my teeth. Holy hell. Just that one inch, and my body reacts in a way I’ve never experienced, satisfying a carnal need I never knew I could have.
* * *
“TELL. ME.” he grits, his mouth against mine, close enough to touch, but just enough space to torture. He pushes in another inch, then withdraws slowly. I moan in anguish.
* * *
“You,” I whisper.
* * *
“Louder.”
* * *
“You,” I say stronger, almost crying out the word as his gaze burns into mine. “Your cock. Now. Please.” I lose all composure on the last word, my thighs trembling, voice breaking, and in the crack of the vowels, he fully thrusts, giving me all of him, my eyes snapping shut, head falling back. I claw at his shoulder, nails digging into muscle, needing to be close to him. He withdraws. Thrusts. Withdraws. My body memorizes his shape, contracts around his girth, and worships his stroke. Right now, during these minutes, he owns me. I am fully and completely his.
* * *
I wrap my legs, my heels digging into his perfect ass as he increases his pace, the slick sounds of our bodies mixing with hot breaths and rough kisses. He kisses like he will never get enough, feasting on my mouth while maintaining a fluid rhythm with his body, propping himself off of me with one hand while the other cradles my neck, holding me up to him.
* * *
I can’t take much more of this, the furious pace building an animalistic need inside of me, a need that will only be fulfilled when I come. It’s close, my core pulsing around his cock, our kiss interrupted by my gasp, and I whimper as my entire body tenses underneath his.
“Don’t stop,” I beg, bucking backwards against his hand, my head rolling as the buildup reaches an overflow point, my orgasm on the edge of explosion. He releases me, bracing both hands on the bed and unleashes the full force of his cock, quick, fast thrusts that are perfect in rhythm, perfect in speed, and heavenly on my body. I risk a look upward, at the god above me, his body framed by city lights, his face determined and intense, the muscles of his chest and arms emphasized by the position, the overall package too much. The orgasm comes and it rips through me, tearing out sensibility and logic on its path, my body tensing underneath him, my heels gripping him tightly and my arms flail out, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer, the movement doing nothing to slow the fuck, my orgasm stretched out with every pump of his muscular hips.
* * *
He doesn’t give me time to rest, rolling over until I am on top, dizzy with lust, staring down on his beauty.
* * *
“Ride me.” Dark, dangerous words, spoken with an edge.
* * *
I move, grinding my hips against him, a rolling motion.
* * *
“No. Up and down.” He scowls and the expression does nothing but makes whatever vibe he rocks more devastating. I move my feet underneath me, resting my weight on them and move, lifting up and then down, feeling the immediate response of him inside me, his shaft thickening and straightening. I groan at the sensation, and settle fully down, the depth surprising me, the complete fullness something I’ve never experienced. He grips my waist and holds me down, thrusting slightly from below, my mouth opening slightly at the new sensation, my glazed eyes held by his, a cocky smile crossing his face.
* * *
That smile. It’s deadly, yet I love its stab. He pins me against his chest and moves both of us upward, sliding along the bed until he is propped against the headboard and supported by pillows, sitting half up, the change affecting the angle, a delicious effect that has me shivering in pleasure.
* * *
“Fuck me.” His words are strong, his eyes locked with mine, and his smile drops as need overtakes his features.
* * *
I move, sliding up and down in hard bounces, and he gives a tight nod of approval. I lift my hands to my breasts, the movement familiar, one from my typical lap dance routine. I squeeze them against my skin and am surprised by the change in his face. He sits up, and knocks my hands to the side, pinning my wrists behind my back. I pull, unable to free them and frown, his face now level with mine, inches away. I lean forward, trying for a kiss, wanting to calm whatever storm I have awakened, but he pulls back. “Keep riding,” he rasps.
* * *
The new position is awkward, and I move to my knees, obediently continuing, my inner stretch indicating that my unknown foul has, in no way, affected his arousal. He grips my wrists harder, using them as resistance, and my fucks turn shallower as I move to the position he seems to want, my back arching, breasts offered up to him, his breath becoming ragged as I continue a hard rhythm up and down his cock.
* * *
“Perfect,” he groans, holding my wrists tightly. “You are fucking perfect.”
* * *
A compliment. I fight to hide my surprise, warmth spreading through my body at the words. They give me renewed confidence and I continue riding him, a gasp escaping me when his mouth lowers to my breasts. That thing he does, his alternation of teeth and tongue – it has a stronger effect than before, my entire body at a new, ungodly level of arousal, the buds of my breasts sensitive and crying out for the attention he lavishes with his mouth. I feel the press of his finger, gently on the pucker of my ass until it is given entrance, the tightness causing him to swear against my breasts, the added sensation causing me to tremble atop him.
* * *
“I can’t—I’m about to...” My warning doesn’t occur in time, my orgasm impatient, seizing my body in a full attack, my legs going still from the assault, pleasure ripping through me.
* * *
He takes over, panting against my chest as he fucks me from below, his finger deeper in my ass as I come apart, a cry ripping out of my throat, animalistic in its strength.
* * *
He’s coming also, grunts coming from deep within his throat, his upward thrusts hard and fast. He releases my wrists and grips my waist, pulling me up and down in rhythm with his strokes. He roars, a primal bellow of ownership and his strokes slow as the sound fades, his mouth soft against mine as his hips slow, his arms wrapping tightly around my body and holding me solidly against him. His kiss marks me, strokes of his tongue speaking clearer than words, deepening the kiss as his cock softens inside of me. Then he pushes against my chest, rolling over and depositing me onto the bed, his bare body towering above me.
* * *
I stare up at him, my eyes making a slow and delicious journey over every curve, cut, and bulge of his body. The best sex of my life has officially wiped me out, every muscle a relaxed mess. He lets out a hard breath, then wipes his mouth and straightens.
* * *
“I’m going to take a shower.”
CHAPTER 9
Silence. No purr of air conditioner, no television from another room. Dead silence as I lay on the bed and try to figure out what I am supposed to do. Follow him? Clean myself up? Roll over and go to sleep? Or is now when he returns with a handful of dollar bills? My lack of expertise in the prostitution gamble puts me at a loss.
* * *
Then, his silhouette returns, passing through the lit doorway. I prop myself up on one elbow and smile tentatively at him, wetting my lips to speak. My thoughts stall as he moves closer, his gait and build all wrong, too big for Nathan.
* * *
The man stops a foot from the bed, way too close for my personal comfort and I scramble for covers, for something to cover my nakedness.
* * *
“You should be used to men seeing you naked,” he drawls, his voice a mix of husk and southern. He is close enough for me to see his features, to recognize his face. One of the bodyguards; the one who drove us here.
* * *
I pull the covers over my chest and glare at him. “I’m not at the strip club now.”
* * *
It is a ridiculous statement, given that I am now at a point below that, having sex for money. But things are different outside the smoky glass doors of the club. Just because I undress at work doesn’t give anyone and everyone a free look at my body. It is my body and right here, right now, I feel naked and want to cover up. Regardless of what this man has seen me do, I don’t want him to see me like this.
* * *
He throws a white robe toward me.
* * *
“The bathroom is yours if you need it. We have a few things to go over, some calls to make. Feel free to make yourself at home.”
* * *
“You always deliver his messages?” I scrunch my nose at him and he smiles.
* * *
“Most of the time.”
* * *
It feels cold and transactional, and a feeling of unease sweeps through me. I thought we’d had a spark, a connection. I thought his kiss, the grip of his hand, the pant of his breath—I thought it all meant that he had … I don't know what I thought. Yet, now, with the bodyguard glancing toward the door, I remember what this really is. One night. Maybe I should be grateful he isn’t pushing me out the door.
* * *
Dance.
Suck it.
I’m going to fuck you.
* * *
Maybe communication isn’t his forte.
* * *
I slip out of the bed, turning my back to the bodyguard, my mind whirring as I cinch the belt, the soft robe more luxurious than anything I have ever worn. I pull my hair out of the robe’s neck, stalling as I try to sort through things in my head.
* * *
“If you need anything, we’ll be on the balcony.”
* * *
I nod. “Than
k you.”
* * *
He steps backward, out of the bedroom, and gently shuts the door.
NATHAN
“You need to be kinder to her." Drew speaks quietly, despite the closed balcony door, and the stiff ocean breeze.
Trophy Wife Page 4