Strip Poker: Bad Boys Club Romance #2

by Olivia Thorne

  “I’m sensing a theme here,” I said, trying not to think about him running naked through Pamplona.

  “What, me doing awesome stuff?”

  “No – you losing bets.”

  He gestured around at the quiet, empty boat, as though to emphasize why it was quiet and empty: because he’d lost a bet to me. “I know, right?!”

  It was the third glass of champagne when I started sorta, kinda started flirting with him.

  “Didn’t you tell me once you got women drunk so their judgment was impaired?”

  “Never women I worked with,” he said, and left it at that.

  Other than some light flirting, nothing happened for the rest of the dinner – until I was about to leave, that is.

  We were walking together down the gangplank towards the speedboat that would take me home. Suddenly, I stumbled a little.

  Vic caught my arm, then turned me around to face him.

  I could feel the heat from his body in the cool night air.

  I stared up at him. He smiled.

  “What?” I asked. I was annoyed because I thought he was laughing at me in my tipsy state.

  “You know I respect you, right?” he asked.

  Okay, that was kind of out of nowhere.

  And a little disappointing.

  With all that flirting and sexual tension, I was kind of hoping for something a little more seductive than I respect you.

  “I guess,” I said.

  “And I don’t like what you’ve been doing… but I respect that you have your reasons for it.”

  I looked into his eyes, waiting for more.

  The tension between us hummed like electricity.

  Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear: “But I want you.”

  I breathed out slightly, taken off guard.

  “I dream about you,” he continued to whisper. His lips were so close to my ear – not quite touching, until they lightly brushed my skin. “I think about touching you… about being inside you… about the noises you make when you come…”

  My eyes closed. I was overwhelmed – by his words, by the wine, by his body, by my own growing desire –

  He growled, his voice deeper, more insistent. “I think about the way you smell… the way you taste…”

  “No,” I moaned. “Vic – ”

  I put my hands against his chest, trying to push him away, but he circled his powerful hands around my waist and made me stay. No matter how hard I pushed, he held me there right next to him – all so he could keep whispering in my ear.

  “I dream about making you come… about making you moan… about you begging me to come inside you…”

  I was dying from sexual frustration. I was so wet… so wet…

  I stopped struggling and just listened to him murmuring in my ear, my eyes closed.

  His voice was so soft… so low… almost hypnotic…

  “So I want you to know… I respect you… but I want you too bad to pretend anymore that I don’t.”

  Suddenly he picked me up.

  My eyes flew open as he started carrying me like a bride across the deck of the yacht.

  To his cabin.

  To his bed.

  “No – Vic, no – ” I protested weakly, though this time I didn’t push against him.

  He opened the door, maneuvered me inside, then kicked it closed behind us. He walked over to the bed and lay me down gently. Then, as he towered over me, he used one hand to lightly tug at one knee until my legs were apart.

  I didn’t exactly resist.

  He knelt down on the bed between my legs. I could feel his warm breath against my bare thighs.

  I wanted him so bad. I wanted him to make me come over and over.

  But I couldn’t give in. Not without a fight.

  “You do anything, and you owe me a million dollars,” I said, my words slightly slurred.

  He smiled, his face framed by the ‘V’ of my legs. “I don’t care about the money. But I’m not going to do anything to you unless you beg me to.”

  “…what?”

  He leaned so close to my soaked underwear that I swear I could almost feel him – although I couldn’t be entirely sure he was touching me.

  “No,” I moaned, though I wanted him to lick me so badly.

  “Beg me to touch you with my tongue,” he ordered.

  “Vic…” I whispered, my resistance crumbling.

  He turned his face towards my thigh. I felt the tickle of one, maybe two hairs from his beard – and it was driving me insane.

  “BEG me,” he commanded.

  “Oh God… oh God…” I was almost crying with frustration. I wanted him so bad, it hurt. “…please…”

  “Please what,” he asked sharply.

  I gave in.

  “…please… kiss me down there…”

  He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on mine, and kissed the inside of my thigh – so warm, so soft.

  I moaned as a tremor shot up my entire body.

  “What else?” he asked.

  “Please… lick me…” I whispered.

  “Lick you where? …here?”

  I felt his tongue, warm and wet, softly graze my skin right next to my underwear… just a tease, nothing more.

  “Lick my clit… my pussy…” I moaned, my eyes closed.

  “How bad do you want it?”

  “Oh God, so bad… please… PLEASE…”

  He slowly pulled back the edge of my underwear while still leaving them on. A shiver of anticipation went up and down my spine.

  Then came the lightest stroke over my clit… so soft… so wet…

  The first pulse of orgasm hit me, the single contraction filling my body with sweet tension.

  “More… more…” I sighed.

  His tongue began to lightly touch the edge of my lips… warm, wet, soft… trailing upwards… his lips brushing my hood… his tongue caressing my clit… and every gentle touch sent another orgasmic contraction through me…

  But it also made me ravenous for more, to have him inside me.

  “Please… please fuck me…” I groaned.

  “First, I want you to beg to suck my cock.”

  I lifted up my head, shocked.

  I hadn’t been expecting that one. I’d been thinking all about my continuing pleasure.

  But the more I thought about it, the more it turned me on. I could imagine the satiny smooth skin against my lips… the heat of his flesh in my mouth…

  “Please…” I whispered.

  “Please what?”

  “Please let me suck your cock…”

  He gave one more delicious lick on my clit, then stood up from the bed and peeled off his shirt and shorts. I could see the outline of his muscles from the one lamp in the room. Even better, I could see the enormous, stiff silhouette of his cock jutting out from his body – and the wet bead of pre-cum glittering on the tip of his cock.

  “Beg me,” he ordered.

  “Please,” I whispered as I sat up in front of him.

  “Please what?”

  “Please… let me kiss it…”

  He nodded.

  I gently took his cock in my hand and brought my lips to the shaft.

  I kissed him lightly, and he swelled even bigger with a sudden contraction.

  He grunted in pleasure. “What else?”

  I looked up at him with doe eyes, enjoying the game. “Please… let me lick it.”

  He nodded, and I let my tongue trace wetly from the base of his shaft all the way to the underside of his tip.

  He moaned.

  I loved hearing it.

  “…what… else?” he murmured.

  “Please… let me taste you…”

  His only answer was to breathe more heavily as I took my lips and encircled his head.

  He tasted salty… his pre-cum slippery on my tongue…

  I cupped his balls and fondled them gently, and he groaned.

  “Please…” I whispered. “Please let me suck it.�
��

  His eyes were lost in a drugged-out haze of pleasure. All he could do was nod.

  I took him slowly in my mouth – as much as I could, because he was so huge – and lightly began to move back and forth, wetting his skin, sucking him, all the while cradling his balls and tickling them.

  He breathed in sharply and groaned.

  Then I pulled away, a single strand of wetness stretching from the tip of his cock to my lower lip.

  I looked up into his face and smiled. “Now… beg me.”

  He looked at me in bewilderment. “What?”

  “Beg me,” I repeated.

  “No,” he said, his gaze hardening. “No, you’re the one who’s going to – ”

  “I order you to beg me,” I interrupted, “or you can pay me a million dollars.”

  I could see the pain and pleasure on his face as he realized two could play his little game.

  “Beg you to what?” he asked, breathing heavily.

  “Beg me… to let you fuck me.”

  He groaned, and his cock pulsed in my hand.

  He liked it.

  “Please… let me fuck you,” he moaned.

  I slowly trailed my fingertips up and down his wet cock, keeping it rock hard.

  “Are you going to fuck me?” I whispered, keeping my eyes locked on his the entire time.

  “Yes,” he nodded.

  “Are you going to fuck me good?”

  “Yes,” he said hungrily, and I could see the wild animal in his eyes.

  He reached for me –

  “Not yet,” I said, and slipped beyond his grasp.

  I lay back on the bed and slipped my panties off, then pulled my dress over my head. I put my hand down between my thighs and stroked my lips. “You want to put your big, thick cock inside me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You want to fuck my pussy with that gorgeous cock?”

  “Yes,” he groaned, unable to take his eyes away from between my thighs.

  “Beg me, then,” I whispered.

  “Please – please let me fuck you,” he growled.

  I tilted my head to the side and smiled.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered.

  He leaned over me to kiss me, and suddenly his full weight was on top of me. I barely had time to open my mouth to his tongue when I felt his cock pressing insistently between my legs. Suddenly he was all the way inside me with one stroke, so fast, so big, so unexpected that I gasped and cried out in one breath.

  I was so wet, so ready, that it wasn’t painful – but it was intense.

  And I immediately began to come.

  Not little contractions slowly building up like normal.

  No – one long, sustained wave that bloomed deep inside me and kept getting bigger.

  I moaned as he took my face in his hands and kissed me hungrily, muffling my cries as he fucked me deep, and hard, and sooooo good.

  I couldn’t stop climaxing. Peak after peak, multiplying and growing higher, as he filled me up, so thick, so deep, so savage –

  I gouged furrows in his back with my fingernails as I writhed in the grip of ecstasy and surrender. He kissed me harder and harder with every thrust, and I came harder and harder with every kiss.

  I don’t know how long it lasted – time seemed to be suspended in one long, continuous orgasm. Just when I didn’t think I could take any more pleasure, I heard him roar, and his arms nearly crushed me as he hung on to my body for all he was worth. His cock swelled inside me in rapid-fire bursts, and I felt warm wetness splash deep inside me, which set off one final, blazing crest of ecstasy for me.

  As all our pleasurable madness subsided, we lay in each other’s arms, him still inside me, both of us panting, lips lightly grazing, staring into each other’s eyes.

  I smiled at him. “I am so fucking glad you lost that bet…”

  He laughed, and we kissed, and then we started all over again.

  69

  We did it a couple more times before I fell back in bed next to him, exhausted and relaxed and oh so sated.

  But after the high of multiple, mind-blowing orgasms wore off… I was also incredibly disappointed in myself.

  “I can’t keep doing this…” I murmured.

  “What, coming?” he teased.

  “No… sleeping with you.”

  If what I’d said bothered him, he didn’t show it. “You know, you can do a lot of directing me here and there over the next 30 days. ‘Touch this, lick that – ’”

  “If your uncles find out about this – ”

  “They won’t,” he insisted.

  “This whole situation is a gun you could potentially hold to my head.”

  He rolled over on his side so he could look at me. “Jesus, Monica – is that what you really think of me?”

  “…no… no, of course not.”

  He took my chin between his fingers and made me look him in the eyes. “I love fucking you, okay? And I love making love to you. That’s all this is, okay? Not some Machiavellian bullshit.”

  When he said I love fucking you, a thrill of desire pulsed between my legs.

  When he followed it up with And I love making love to you, a warm burst of joy filled my heart.

  I couldn’t admit that to him, though, so I went sardonic instead. “Well, you’re definitely going to renege.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “As long as…?”

  He grinned. “As long as the sex is this amazing.”

  Another pulse of desire, another burst of joy.

  But it didn’t take away the fear.

  “You can’t tell ANYBODY about this.”

  “Is that one of your directives?” he teased.

  “YES.”

  “Then I won’t.”

  As I relaxed a little, a mischievous thought came into my head. “As part of our bet, you have to do everything I say for 30 days, right?”

  He sighed and settled onto his back again. “Yeah, I know, no more parties.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say.”

  He looked at me suspiciously. “What, then?”

  “For the next 30 days, you’re not allowed to have sex with anybody but me,” I said with a smile as I snuggled up against him.

  He grinned. “I’m totally fine with that – but I just want to point out for the record that sex was never part of the deal.”

  “It was the whole point of the deal,” I scoffed.

  “You know what I mean. I didn’t mean you got to dictate my personal life.”

  “Well, you were the one who didn’t put any limits on the bet. Because you had a no-lose proposition, remember?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “That was the stupidest bet of my entire life.”

  “Not necessarily,” I said as I reached between his legs and began to fondle his cock. It sprang to life immediately, growing thicker and longer with every heartbeat.

  He groaned in pleasure, then murmured, “What do you mean?”

  I kept caressing and stroking, and he was hard within seconds. Hard enough for what I wanted, anyway.

  I sat up and straddled his body, then grabbed his shaft as I sat up on my legs.

  “I have a high sex drive,” I whispered, “and I want you to fuck me… a LOT.”

  Then I angled his swollen head just right… eased my body down… and slowly took him inside me.

  His face looked like he’d just seen the face of God.

  “It might have been a stupid bet,” he moaned in pleasure, “but I am so glad I lost…”

  70

  The next several days flew by. Business meetings alternated with hours of carnal bliss. And wine… and delectable food… and a lot of laughter.

  Plus more carnal bliss.

  It felt like the best working vacation imaginable.

  On Tuesday, Vic’s uncles told us they wanted him to close some deals in Europe.

  “How long do you need us over there?” I asked.

  “Ten days at least,” Sal sa
id. “Perhaps more.”

  “Do you want us to fly commercial, or – ?”

  “No, take the jet.”

  As soon as we hung up the phone, Vic got to thinking. “Normally I’d say let’s sail the yacht there and make an adventure out of it – but it would take us about 70 days, which means I’d be out of my contract by the time we’re at the Panama canal,” he teased.

  “No.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, then we’ll just rent a yacht while we’re over there.”

  “No.”

  “We can make an awesome holiday out of it!”

  “No.”

  “But the boat is good for my image.”

  “No.”

  “Fine – I’ll pay for it out of my poker winnings.”

  “No.”

  “I’m telling you, this is a mistake…”

  “Don’t care,” I said. “No boat in Europe.”

  He was pissed – but to soften the blow, I took him inside and fucked his brains out for the next hour.

  “Okay,” he panted afterwards, “we can do without the boat.”

  71

  But before we left for Europe, I had one thing to take care of.

  I scheduled with the Cortelians’ pilot, then informed Vic. “We’re going to leave at 9AM tomorrow. We’ll stop off at JFK for about six hours, then do a red-eye to London.”

  He frowned. “Why are we stopping so long? We could just do a direct flight.”

  “I have something I need to do in New Jersey.”

  “Ah, a little family visit?”

  “Yes,” I said, suddenly on edge. I was afraid he was going to say, You can’t use the company plane for a personal outing.

  But of course he didn’t. He didn’t care in the slightest. In fact, he went in the opposite direction.

  “Cool. Do I get to meet everybody?” he asked.

  I looked at him in surprise.

  He realized what he’d just said. “Not like, ‘meet the FAMILY,’ just – jeez, you know what I meant,” he said defensively.