by Leigh, Mara
“I’m in town on business,” he said. “Meetings, negotiations.”
He was play-acting. “How did it go?” I asked. “Did you crush the competition?”
“Squished them like bugs.” He sipped his cocktail. “I always get what I want.”
“And what is it that you want?” I could barely believe my bold words.
His body rubbed against mine, lightly but obviously, and his fingers grazed the side of my neck. I arched, undulating at his touch like I’d been uncoiled, and he leaned down to whisper, “What I want is to give you pleasure. More pleasure than you’ve ever imagined.”
I sipped my drink, icy and fiery at once.
“I want to run my hands and lips and tongue all over your naked body,” he continued, his voice low and deep in my ear. “I want to learn every inch of you, and discover all the tiny places where my touch makes you moan. I want to worship your body. I want to eat you and drink you and fuck you.”
Suddenly out of oxygen, I sucked in a ragged breath as his fingers traced down my spine, igniting fires I thought only my husband was capable of lighting.
“Would that meet your pleasure?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak.
“Then please, let me escort you somewhere more private.”
CHAPTER THREE
* * *
My knees trembled and, like an old-fashioned gentleman, he extended his arm for me to hold. The gesture set me at ease. My husband might have paid this man to have sex with me, but nothing about him or his demeanor read sleazy. And in spite of the words he’d just practically growled, I felt safe, like everything about this was at my discretion, my invitation.
He dropped my arm as he reached for the elevator call button, and when the doors opened he placed his hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me inside. We were alone in the elevator and, sensing his gaze on me, I slowly turned to meet it.
He pressed his lips close to my ear. “You are so fucking sexy.”
An older couple boarded the elevator, she in a flowered dress that hit her mid-calf and he in a rumpled brown suit. They looked beyond conservative, but Luke didn’t move away. Just the opposite. His hand slid between my back and the paneled elevator wall, and glorious sensations radiated from his touch.
“From the second I saw you,” he whispered, “all I could think of was how you’d look when you climaxed. And how badly I wanted to make that happen, again and again and again.”
His hand roamed over my lower back and butt as the couple stared, clearly appalled at his words and his public display of affection. But Luke’s attention never wavered. He kept his eyes on my body and his fingers tracing my back. Dipping his hand lower, he found the slit at the back of my dress, and slid up between my legs from behind.
I gasped when his fingers landed at the base of my ass, and our eyes met. My knees nearly gave out from the look he gave me as his finger probed forward, stroking between my legs, hidden, I hoped, from the other elevator occupants. Objectively, I knew this man didn’t really want me. I knew he was an actor hired to play a part, to do a job, but he was very convincing.
I decided to ignore reality. This was meant to be fantasy, and although I certainly couldn’t claim that I was at ease, my nerves only added to how sexy this felt, how exciting—only added to the raging fire between my legs.
The other couple left the elevator five floors before ours, and on the way out the woman and her polyester print dress shot me a look of scorn. The second the doors closed, Luke clasped both my wrists and lifted them above my head. Holding them there with one hand, he moved the other down to grasp between my legs from behind. My back arched as he kissed me. The taste of the whiskey and cherries and chilies mingling as his lips captured mine, as his tongue dipped and teased, mimicking the motions his fingers were making against my panties.
I couldn’t imagine being more turned on. The mere idea that a single one of his hands could trap both my wrists while he teased my sex with the other, the idea that he was so big and strong that he could possess me so completely with just his hands, his lips—it was beyond exciting.
The bell dinged when we reached our floor, and wrapping an arm tightly around my waist, he nearly carried me out of the elevator and into the hall. Good thing. Without his support, I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to walk down the bright red- and blue-patterned carpet. At least not for the first few steps.
Using a keycard, he opened one side of a set of double doors and I entered the most beautiful hotel room I’d ever seen.
In front of floor-to-ceiling windows, which revealed a neon-filled view of the strip, were an open gas fire pit, a white faux fur rug, and a collection of sofas and chairs that looked like they were straight out of Architectural Digest. To the side was a set of doors to what I assumed was the bedroom, but there were no lights on inside.
The main room itself was lit only by the Vegas strip, the fire, and a few dozen candles. The effect was intoxicating. Who had lit all these candles and when?
Who cared? I remembered my vow to go with the flow. In fantasies these things simply happened. In fantasies everything was perfect without effort or thought. I wanted tonight to be like that, too.
“Would you like another drink?” Luke asked, his fingers trailing up and down my bare arm. “Or maybe you’d prefer to wait until after. What’s your pleasure?”
The promise of the words ‘after’ and ‘pleasure’ fueled my desire, almost as if his words had caressed me. I closed my eyes, trying to decide what it was that I wanted, trying to play out this night like the fantasies of my masturbatory dreams. But the need to make decisions kept snapping me back to reality.
“You did so well choosing our drinks downstairs,” I said. “I don’t want to make any decisions right now.” I hoped he understood that I meant more than the drinks.
“As you wish,” he said, low and deep, and it was all I could do not to tremble—more from anticipation than fear.
I’d only ever been with my husband, and although I hadn’t been Thom’s first, he’d been mine. At the beginning he’d been so eager, always so far ahead of me. And by the time we’d found our rhythm, it became, well, a rhythm. While I’d never, ever complain, our lovemaking had grown mostly predictable. Thom knew what I wanted, when I wanted it, and he always delivered.
If asked, I expected he’d say the same.
Our sex life was satisfying, happy, everything I needed, but it never gave me this feeling of delicious anticipation—anticipation tinged with danger. In my marriage, there was none of this teasing, none of this glorious buildup and mystery.
Luke strode over to a marble-topped bar at the side of the room, poured an amber liquid over ice, then added two cherries. He directed his gaze toward me as he held the stems and swirled the bright red fruit in the glass.
“Join me,” he said, and I walked over, feeling sexier in my heels and satin dress than I’d felt my entire life. His hands on my hips, he guided me onto one of padded barstools, then handed me my drink.
“Aren’t you having one?” I asked.
“You’re intoxicating enough.” He trailed his fingers across my collarbone, then down to the top of my dress. He traced lightly over the neckline until I was arching, pressing forward, wanting so much more. But after that teasing caress he took a few steps back, keeping his eyes trained on mine.
Slowly, carefully, he removed his tie, loosened the knot and pulled one end through, sliding the silver cloth around his collar. His eyes heated as if the mere friction of the fabric was an erotic caress.
Taking a gulp of the drink, I discovered it was the exact same cocktail we’d had downstairs. Sweet and hot, it burned my throat, tingled my lips, and the heat and wetness settled down between my legs. It had already been prepared when we arrived, and again I marveled at the setup, urging myself to stop overthinking this.
I glanced at his crisp gray slacks. What had been a promising bulge was now an obvious erection. Noticing where I was looking, he stroked himself through the
fabric.
Fully engulfed in the fantasy, I took the sight in, licking my lips, not even trying to hide my raging desire. While some far-off part of my psyche knew this wasn’t real, another part of me had started to believe in the magic, the pure fantasy of the moment and the promise of those yet to come.
He shrugged off his silvery-gray suit jacket and flung it onto the back of one of the sofas, then he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. As he stripped, his hips swayed to sultry music that I hadn’t even noticed up to that moment, and its volume built as if his body were a remote.
The experience consumed my senses: the taste of the drink, the ice, the heat; the sound of the music; the scent of the burning candles; and the sight of his now-bared and well-muscled chest.
His body looked like he belonged on the cover of a fitness magazine—sculpted, hard and smooth—and he ran his hands over his body, enjoying his own touch before he turned away from me and set one foot on a chair to untie his shoe.
His butt pressed out against the tailored slacks, making them appear painted on, and the candlelight reflected off the hard mounds, like his body was covered in metal. He shifted to remove the other shoe and sock, and then turned back toward me, his hand on his belt buckle, his erection pressing hard against the fabric.
After taking another sip of the drink, I removed a cherry and wantonly tipped my head back, dangling the fruit above my lips and taking a few licks before sucking it into my mouth and pulling it off the stem. His gaze was so full of hunger I felt that at any moment he might rip me open and eat me.
Pulling off his belt in one fluid motion, he made it snap. I gasped at the sound, and he smiled as he dropped the leather to the ground, then he undid the button at his waist.
Wetness pooled between my legs as he slowly unzipped his fly and pushed his slacks to the floor. Underneath he wore briefs, which fit like skin and barely constrained his monstrous erection. Even through the cotton I could tell he was bigger than my husband, both in length and girth, and I felt my insides contract in anticipation plus a hint of fear. Could I take him all in?
He slipped out of his shorts and his erection leapt forward, eagerly reaching toward me. I couldn’t believe his size. He was like something out of a porn video. He reached for his discarded jacket, then tore a foil condom package with his teeth. He sheathed himself as he sauntered toward me like at cat toward prey. I was more than ready to be dinner.
He set my glass on the bar, and his hands traveled slowly down my arms, from my shoulders to my wrists. Entwining his fingers in mine, he drew my hands up and around his neck, and I stroked the hard hot skin there, tracing the tendons and marveling at the silkiness of his curls. He dropped to a crouch and his hands landed on my ankles, slowly caressing, exploring, sliding up and down, reaching a few inches higher with each successive upstroke until he broached the hem of my dress.
Still crouched, he lifted me and pushed the fabric higher until the dress was bunched around my waist, exposing my black panties. His hands stroked and teased, playing with me through the fabric, every touch amplifying my arousal.
He hooked the elastic at my hips, and I leaned slightly back, raising my butt as he effortlessly drew my panties down, over my high heels, and off.
He tugged the chair away from the bar. The jolt was alarming, and even though the stool had a padded backrest, I held tighter to his neck to keep from falling. His hands moved to my ass, pulling me forward to the very edge of the seat until his cock pressed against me, not pushing inside, but rubbing through my folds, teasing me, teasing him.
“You’re so wet.” He guided his tip inside me, just the head, and probed my sensitive opening, testing my passage, making me crazy with need. Then, just as I grew used to this shallow penetration, just as it started to feel familiar and good, just as I thought it might be enough, he pulled the chair forward and drove into me hard, all the way to the hilt. His balls slapped my ass.
He stayed there a moment, in deep, not moving, just stretching me and filling me so completely I thought I might climax—then he started to pump. Spreading and bending his legs, both to brace himself and to change the angle, he drove into me hard. His hand guided one of my legs up to his butt and other one joined it, my ankles linking around his lower back, which contracted and flexed like a machine under my calves as his powerful thrusts drove into me with more force, hitting sensitive places I’d never known were there.
I cried out with each thrust, unable to control the sounds from my throat. I was his, completely possessed, and just as I started to wonder if I could take any more, he pulled out and dropped to his knees. His hands parted my folds and his tongue found my clit, flicking several delicious times before his lips closed around the swollen nub to suck. I cried out. It was like he was pulling on every nerve in my body, like the suction between his lips and my clit was the center of the entire universe.
My body exploded in a detonation so powerful I was surprised the room didn’t burst into flames. Bright lights shone behind my closed eyelids as I bucked and thrashed, as his hands held me safely on the stool and against his face. He stroked my clit with his tongue and kissed my upper thighs as aftershocks shook my ravaged body again and again.
When they subsided, I had the sudden realization that I had a strange man’s face in my crotch. I felt sexually sated, yet all I could think of was seeing Thom. I needed to thank him properly for this wonderful treat.
“Thank you,” I said as Luke rose, sliding his hands over my body like he now owned it.
“Thank you,” he said, and bent to gently kiss my lips, letting me taste myself on him. “Would you like to slip into something more comfortable?”
I nodded. Maybe Thom would be meeting me up here. It would be a shame to waste this wonderful room if we’d paid for the night.
“You’ll find a robe in the bathroom.” Luke gestured toward a closed door next to the bedroom entrance.
“Great.”
He helped me off the stool, and I kicked off my heels before walking on wobbly legs to the bathroom, not fully exhaling until I was inside with the door closed behind me.
The bathroom was luxurious. A huge shower, with frosted glass walls framing a space large enough to fit a small bed. The bathtub was equally huge and full of bubble-topped water. I crossed the room and traced my fingers through the foam. The water was warm, almost hot, and again I marveled at the setup, the amount of work that had gone into my fantasy. All this so I could experience sex with a man who wasn’t my husband, experience sex with a stranger. Sure, the fantasy I’d described to Thom had involved multiple nameless men, but I could hardly expect that to come true. That my husband had managed to make sex with one stranger come true was miracle enough. I loved him more than ever.
Unzipping my dress, I let it drop to the floor. Should I take a bath? If Thom were here, I’d want nothing more than to lie in the water with him, letting its heat and his comfort ease my muscles and help me melt into a puddle of jelly before sleep. Considering my options, I glanced at the shower, but it felt strange to use this bathroom, not knowing whether my stranger was still in the room outside.
A black silk robe hung from the back of the door so I slipped it over my naked body, enjoying how the luxurious fabric glided against me like massage oil. As I was tying the belt, Luke knocked on the door.
“When you’re ready, Jamie, I have a few friends who’d like to meet you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
* * *
Friends? My heart took off at a full gallop and I leaned back against the closed bathroom door. My mouth was dry. I crossed to the sink and ran a glass of water, but it wasn’t cold enough to satisfy my thirst. I stared at myself in the mirror. Same eyes. Same hair. Same skin, even if it was pinker than normal.
My eyeliner was a tad smeared, but it only seemed to enhance my appearance. I’d always thought of myself as square, more nerd than sex kitten, but right now I felt wild, wanton, and even though I’d just been thoroughly fucked, I was so turned on I ground my legs
together, running my hands over the soft silk of the robe.
Taking a long, cleansing breath, I stepped over to open the door.
Luke was leaning against the wall, his chest slick with sweat, his slightly erect cock dangling with pride. “Is this okay?” he asked, gesturing behind him. “Some of my business associates showed up and when I told them how sexy you were, they wanted to meet you to see for themselves.”
“It’s fine,” I answered, reminding myself that I still had a safe word. It was impossible to say I was comfortable, but my discomfort was more titillating than terrifying, and I knew I could stop this if the scales tipped too far the other way.
As Luke stepped back from the door, I raised my chin high and walked into the room.
I stopped short. By my quick count, there were five other men in the room. All wore masks, some sequined, some plain, but completely disguising their identities. I turned toward Luke.
“They came from a masquerade ball,” he said. “We thought it might be fun if they left their masks on. That way we can all stay strangers—well, except you and me. But if you choose to let any of my friends give you pleasure, you’ll always have the mystery of wondering whether any man you meet in the future might have been here tonight.”
I drew a long breath. The idea was tantalizing, thrilling, and while my fantasy hadn’t included masks, I had told Thom that I didn’t remember any faces. The masks were a perfect touch, and I couldn’t believe that my fantasy wasn’t yet over. In fact, in a room with six strangers, only one who’d fucked me, it seemed possible my fantasy had yet to begin.
Luke took my hand and led me toward the sunken seating area, standing me on the rug in front of the fire. The men circled me, and the sensation of so many sets of male eyes focused solely on me was unnerving. Goosebumps rose on my skin even though I was warm.
“You were right. She’s beautiful,” said one of the masked men, and I heard grunts of agreement as they started to cast off their clothes. Some wore jeans and t-shirts, others suits, and one man was in a very high-end tuxedo, but they all stripped down until I was surrounded by hot naked men sporting nothing but masks and erections.