by Kira Blakely
“No,” she whispers. “I’m waiting.”
I trace one fingertip over her sweet labia and open her soaked pussy lips. My finger grazes her clit as it goes and I lick the juices off. “Waiting for me?” I wonder. She’s dizzying. She tastes like fucking honey.
“Yes,” the brunette answers, and I grin, settling into the chair in front of her.
I bow my head and skate the tip of my tongue over her pink slit, flicking the hard clit at her apex. Her body jolts and I let out a husky laugh against her plump, bright pussy lips. She must be throbbing for release. And she was waiting for me...
“Well,” I breathe against her. “Can’t let dinner get cold.”
I spread her open wider with two fingers in a V and lap my tongue hard up and down her cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” she whispers dizzily. “It’s really happening. It’s really happening. Oh, god.”
I lap at her harder and her fingers twist in my hair. She whimpers and begs and my dick feels like it’s going to split like the Hulk. I unzip and set him loose, grasping myself and working my hand up and down my own shaft for some relief. A man takes the seat next to me and starts eating out the girl beside mine, but I don’t notice. I can’t even think. I drown in this perfect pussy.
Chapter 4
Ella
Rainier’s mouth on my pussy is the most exquisite satisfaction I’ve ever felt. My fingers are in his hair and my groans join the chorus of moans and shrieks as he works me closer and closer to our first orgasm together. I don’t even care if we never do this again—if he never knows that it’s me—if I have to quit my job because I become obsessed with him after this. I don’t care. All I want is tonight. It feels so good... He sucks on my clit like it’s hard candy, dragging me feet-first toward an orgasm in public, on a fucking dinner table, right next to another woman. But I can’t stop him. I don’t want to stop him. I don’t care where he makes me come... as long as he makes me come.
The orgasm arrives too suddenly for me. I want to draw this out, in case he tires of me and this is our only encounter all weekend. But my pussy is so sensitive, so ready, so excited, I’m barreling toward the end of the tunnel whether I like it or not. His tongue rakes over me again and again and I cry out and press my sex harder into his mouth.
“I’m going to come,” I whimper, and then everything melts into a sea of shimmering light. My eyes roll back in my head and warmth floods my skin and I cry out, “Oh, god! Oh, god, yes!” as Rainier devours me right here, right now. It’s so good. It’s everything I imagined it would be, and now I’m boneless and sweaty and numb. I want to push the mask off my face, but I know I can’t.
Mr. Howell can never know I did this.
Due to my numbness, it takes several seconds to realize that he’s still between my legs, sucking at my clit and licking my slit. “Jesus Christ,” he murmurs from between my legs. “That was the sweetest juice I’ve ever tasted.”
“You can be my first,” I venture hopefully, gazing down at him. He pulls off my pussy and peers back at me without understanding. His lips are swollen from such expert face. What a fucking man.
“Your first... here?”
“My first ever,” I softly correct. “I said I’ve been waiting.”
Rainier cocks his head to the side and an intrigued smile kinks one side of his lip. “Yes,” he answers, standing and letting his pants slip down. “For me.” I see his manhood waving in the air like a spear and it is everything I imagined, too. It’s broad and veined, chiseled and smooth. I want it inside me. I want him to pop me.
His plush mushroom head skims over my womanhood, finding the hole by touch. He presses himself against it and there is mild resistance to him, but I buck my hips to give him more friction. His bare skin on mine scatters all my thoughts to the wind.
“Are you sure?” he breathes thickly, and when I gaze up at him, I see that some of his perfect hair is out-of-place. It fills my heart to see. “I can be rough.”
“I know,” I say, and he furrows his brow at me, but his prick is also right at my opening. Now is not the time for critical thinking, even for a billionaire.
His staff breaks through, startling us both. I gasp and he grunts, clenching his jaw. “So tight,” he grumbles, almost wincing, squeezing himself deeper into me. I know it can’t hurt him, because I’m insanely wet. It must just feel like a fist around him. “Legs up,” he commands, and my heels rise off the table immediately. I love when he gives me commands.
He hooks his hands beneath my knee caps and splits my thighs further apart, then thrusts his full length into me, all the way to the hilt. I scream and think I might black out from the intensity of his girth. He strokes into me again and again, finding a smooth rhythm but he doesn’t try to be gentle with me at all. His thrusts come with more and more swiftness and heat builds up in my core. But it’s still not enough for him.
He slams his body down on mine and the table shakes. “There,” he growls, laying on top of me now. I hurry to unbutton his shirt, even though he didn’t tell me to, because I want to see and feel his skin on mine. This might be my only chance... and I want to feel Rainier Howell through every cell of my body. Even if he doesn’t even know. Even if I have to go to work on Monday and pretend like he wasn’t bare inside me on Thanksgiving.
“More,” he growls, peeling himself off me, leaving me dazed and disoriented for a moment.
“Wh—” My heavy, lust-fogged eyes struggle to open, but he’s already repositioning me the way that he wants me to be. He hoists me and flips me onto my hands and knees, pulling my torso as flat as it can get against my thighs. Both my pussy and my asshole are absolutely exposed now, but it’s the furthest thing from my mind. Having Rainier inside me is like a drug, very literally. I can’t think straight, and now it’s the only thing on my mind.
“Shh,” he pants, aligning his sex with mine and thrusting us together again. All my thoughts spill and mix into nonsense immediately. He thrusts into me like I’m not a virgin anymore, and I don’t care, because it’s him and I’m on the verge of orgasm again.
We slam together again and again and it’s almost too much. I blurt, “Tell me I’m a good girl!”
Rainier hesitates. Even his thrusting slows to a halt, and for a moment, his palms are on the sweaty small of my back and the world fizzles back into existence around us. The cacophony of fucking intrudes. I’m aware that I’m on a dinner table, not in a bed. That I’m wearing a mask and presenting myself in public.
“No,” Rainier denies me. My heart breaks. What? “You’re a bad girl. A good girl could take my cock, couldn’t she?” He thrusts into me again, as if in revenge, and I see stars. It’s too sweet. “But you’re a bad girl.” A sting flashes across my ass cheek as he rains down a powerful smack. My pussy opens responsively and he sinks deeper into me with a loud groan through his closed mouth. His hands wrap around my hips again. “Now you’re being good,” he tells me, thrusting into me slowly and fully, enjoying himself. His thumbs grate over my hips, relishing their girth. “Now you’re being good. Good girl... whoever you are.” He sinks into me to the hilt and freezes with me shuddering around him, stretched to my breaking point. “Who are you?”
“No names,” I remind him in a whimper. “No names.”
“Bad girl,” he says, thrusting again. My eyes roll and an orgasm trembles at my center. If he quits stopping, it’ll be any second. “I’ll just call you my bad girl then.”
“That’s not very nice,” I tell him, and I kind of mean it. I love pleasing him. I want to be good. I want him relishing my pussy because I’m such a good girl. “I want to be a good girl.”
“Then be good,” he commands me, hooking his finger into the side of my mouth and pumping into me with brutality again. He plays my body like it was his instrument, fiddling me to the edge in a matter of seconds. “Be good for me,” he breathes, and I feel one of his fingers fondling my asshole now.
His dick grows—impossibly—and he lashes another spanking down
on me. I know he’s going to come soon, because he’s losing control of himself. His body gleams with sweat and his hair is wild now. He looks like another man. Ten years younger, even. I bind the table cloth in my fists and my pussy gives up an orgasm through Rainier’s sheer force of will. My body was reluctant when I remembered that we were in public halfway through—but I’m still no match for his skill. He draws an orgasm out of me like a scarf from up his sleeve, just more and more and more through some magic I don’t understand. His cock is so big now, so close, my body is rigid with the tension. Even though it’s too much, I want it. I want him to stretch me out. To teach me. To fill me.
I know when he spills into me. I feel his rhythm change, his breath change, and a rush of wet heat brims in my pussy. I could almost come again just knowing that he’s experiencing that same crushing pleasure inside me right now and my eyelids shut. Happy Thanksgiving to me.
Chapter 5
Rainier
There’s a literal clusterfuck occurring all around us now, an alternate reality of faceless sex, but I can’t bear to part with the virginal, voluptuous brunette in the black sequined mask and no lipstick. She’s so raw and magnetic. As I slip out of her, the banquet hall clicks back into focus though, and I remember that we aren’t the only two people in the world, and we are expected to part ways now. Most couples do, anyway.
But I don’t want to. She’s bowed in front of me, crumpled against this table, and I just savagely filled her. In all honesty, I lost control.
“I was rougher than I needed to be,” I say to her, placing my palm on her bare back and stroking her. “I got carried away.”
“It was perfect,” she croaks, and I laugh. She props herself up on her elbows, and I slide my arms around her, helping her stand up off the table entirely.
“I’m going to call you my good girl, then,” I tell her, and she beams up at me. For a moment, the way her face looks, all lit up and proud of herself, and those shimmering hazel eyes behind the mask—but it couldn’t be. This woman is much bustier than Ella, and Ella would never be here. She’s having Thanksgiving dinner with her family right now.
I need to get my goddamn assistant out of my head! Now I’m seeing her everywhere.
“And what shall I call you?” she wonders.
“Mr. H.”
“Mr. H,” she repeats musically. “I like it.”
In the distance, Rex’s voice floats over the milieu. “Rainier!” he bellows.
I grimace. Rex isn’t as handsome as I am, nor as emotionally strong, nor as intelligent, nor as considerate. Jesus Christ, man. If you’re going to be an alpha, there’s a responsibility that comes with that. He’s starting to get on my last nerve.
Maybe it’s time that I diversify my interests.
“I really want to get out of here,” Good Girl says, strangely adamant. “Do you want to walk me, or am I going alone?”
Weighing whether I want to watch Rex repeatedly try to get his dick into Good Girl, or take her for a balmy evening stroll myself, the choice is easy. “Let’s go.” I grip her hand and we exit the dining hall, out onto a wooden walkway surrounded by sand and trees. “Are you comfortable?” I wonder, unable to forget her nudity. Her heavy breasts swing and bounce with every step, still so youthful and perky.
“Not exactly,” she confesses, slipping her heels off. “That’s better.”
“Did you just need to get out of there?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“I didn’t need to be in there anymore,” Good Girl says. “I got what I came for. Now I’m going to get a bath and a good night’s sleep.”
I guffaw out loud. I can’t help it. “What?”
“What?” she echoes, glowering at me, tits still swaying graciously with every step of her bare feet. “What’s so funny about that?”
“Most people come here for the decadence of it all,” I explain to her. “No one is supposed to sleep. You eat and you drink and you fuck and you lay on the beach and you dance and that’s about it. There is no such thing as... going to an event, having sex with one person, and going home. There’s no such thing as a good night’s sleep here.”
“I deserve only the best,” she informs me, sounding smooth and strong. She almost sounds like me when she says it. “And you were the very best man in that entire room.”
A perplexed smile crawls up one side of my lip. I’m not disagreeing but how did she know that? “I’m a scoundrel,” I say. “You wasted your virginity on me, Good Girl.”
She laughs—a light, musical thing—and my heart inexplicably tightens. Her laugh... It sounds like—
But there is no way she could possibly be on this island, I remind myself. You’re losing it, man. Look at this girl. She’s a brunette, yeah, but she’s not Ella. Good Girl is wild. Wild and busty.
It strikes me suddenly and deeply and for the second time since I met her: I have to see her face. I’ve never taken off a single woman’s mask before, but I’m unmasking this one. I’m going to unmask her tonight, in fact. I promise myself this.
“My villa is right over there,” I say, gesturing as we stroll. “Do you just want to get a shower and a good night’s sleep there?”
“No, I don’t.” But she still has on a teasing smile as she says it. “I know I won’t get any sleep in the same bed with you, Mr. H— Mr. H.” How strange. For a moment, it sounded like she knew my name and was about to say it. “And I don’t want to sleep with my mask on tonight.”
“Oh, come on.” I nudge her with my arm and reach down, lacing my fingers through hers. it feels natural to do so and I tug her along the walkway, toward my villa. She resists and yields almost in the same gesture. “What’s the big deal?”
“It’s a big deal,” she reassures me. “You’d understand if someone wanted to tell me all about your identity.”
“I don’t think so,” I tell her, and I’m being honest here. “I don’t think I would.”
“Your choice,” she says flippantly. “Was that man calling your name? Rainier?”
“I suppose tonight is a night of firsts for both of us, then,” I say, ignoring her question. Maybe she’s right. Maybe we are getting ahead of ourselves. “Your first time with a man, and my first time wanting to get to know a woman here.” We close in on my villa and I gesture again. “Here we are.”
“Is it really the first time you’ve wanted to know a woman?” she wonders. “How long have you been coming here?”
“Eight years,” I answer, stretching open the front door and bowing for her passage. “And no, never. But there’s something about you.”
She hesitates, then steps past me. I watch her amazing ass swing from side to side as she enters my villa. Little does she know, I will have her again before the night is out.
And I will get her mask off, too.
“You’re just bedazzled by my virginity,” she insists. “You don’t need to know who I am.”
“We’ll see.” My eyes track her as if she’s prey... only in the sense that I will have her. “Go to the bathtub and I’ll bathe you there.”
She freezes and her eyes flick to me. Again, she reminds me of Ella. There’s something in that doe-like expression on her face. “I don’t think so,” she says. “Not yet. I’ll bathe myself.”
I stride across the room and cup her chin with my fingers. She stiffens and her neck stretches. She looks directly into my eyes and heat thrums between us. “You’ll get in that bathtub right now and spread your legs,” I command her, steady and even. My woman needs to know that, if she’s with me, I’m in control.
“Yes, sir,” Good Girl breathes, and I guide her to the bathroom. She settles obediently into the tub and spreads her legs wide for me. I try to ignore how hard I want to be between them right now, and focus instead on running her a nice, warm bath. We don’t speak as I lather the sponge and work it over her body, gently adoring her with every swipe, every scrub. I circle her taut nipples with the rough sponge and watch them depress and then spring back. I gaze wonder
ingly as the bubbles course down her breasts, down her flat, slick belly, and into the water again. I run the soapy sponge over her legs, her inner thighs, then soak it in the water and graze it between her labia. I know that I just rode her hard, and she’s probably raw from all the orgasms so far, but I can’t resist.
“You’re so good for me,” I tell her, stroking harder, and I feel her hips shift and grind, feel her respond to me. “I want to make you feel good, Good Girl...” I start pumping harder, forgetting that I want to know who she is, forgetting that I want this to last longer than a few days. The water froths between her legs and she whimpers and bucks and my sleeve is soaking wet. I drop the sponge and put my fingers on her clit, driving her orgasm home with precision. Her spine stiffens, her neck loosens, and her eyes roll back in her head. Her thighs lift out of the water as her pussy pulses around my fingers and my dick gets a deep surge of adrenaline and blood.
“Oh, Good Girl.” I draw my wet hand out of the bath and flick it, spent and invigorated at once. “I have to know your name.”
Chapter 6
Ella
Rainier dries me off and leads me into the den, now lit by a dozen pillar candles. There’s an unlit fireplace in front of us, and glass doors on either side, both cracked open to allow the salty ocean breeze through. Behind us is a long leather sofa.
“What are you doing?” I wonder as Rainier releases my hand and settles himself onto the sofa.
“I’m not doing anything,” he answers. “You’re going to dance, and I’m going to watch.”