A Gentleman in the Street

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A Gentleman in the Street Page 21

by Alisha Rai


  A motion out of the corner of his eye alerted him that Jessie’s date had risen from their sofa and made his way over. He had his cock out, his hand slicking over the lubed surface as he watched the two women going down on him.

  Their tongues tangled and rubbed against each other, occasionally sharing a kiss while they toyed with him.

  His hands fisted on the couch next to him, unable to hold back the rough words. “I’m going to come.”

  “Good,” Akira said, and cast the woman a glance that was both mischievous and competitive. “Whoever gets him there gets the prize.”

  The impish guest grinned. “The usual?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “What’s the prize?” he managed to mumble, though how he was able to marshal any thoughts, he wasn’t certain. His dick was wet with saliva, and two plump lips weren’t far away.

  “You’ll see.” Akira gripped his cock and swallowed it deep, prompting a helpless moan from deep in his chest. Jessie took her place the instant she withdrew. They alternated, the two of them, until he had no choice but to touch them, one hand buried in black hair, the other in red.

  His balls drew up tight to his body, his spine tingling. When Akira’s warm, wet lips surrounded him, he shut his eyes and blew, his thighs tensing as he flooded her mouth.

  She withdrew, one finger swiping at the corner of her mouth and then licking it.

  “You win.” Jessie smirked and turned, leaning back against the couch, her legs spread.

  “I did.” Akira turned her hot eyes to the other woman and gave his spent cock a final pet, her blood-red nails a marked contrast to his skin.

  She crawled between the other woman’s legs, shoving her dress up, revealing strong, tanned legs. Nice legs. Still, Jacob wouldn’t have hardened as quickly as he did for a pair of nice legs. No, it was Akira’s lips and hands on those legs that turned him inside out.

  Jessie moaned as Akira kissed her way up her leg. The girl’s escort moved closer to their couch, his gaze locked on the two women, one hand around his thick cock. With the other, he pulled Jessie’s hair out of her face. “You good, babe?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she moaned, her voice rising when Akira found her pussy.

  There was absolutely no need for quiet any longer. The three people were fucking on the stage now, Zoe holding Tess’s face against her pussy while David fucked her from behind. Her muffled shrieks were silenced against the other woman’s flesh.

  Around the room, moans and gasps and cries rent the air. Jacob squinted, part of him wishing he could see the specifics of what each occupant was doing, but the stage lights illuminating the room only afforded him general impressions of locked arms and writhing bodies.

  You’d implode if you could see everything.

  This was true. His cock was already hard and ready to play again, thrusting obscenely out of the fly of his pants, still wet from the women’s saliva and his own come.

  Jessie’s date fisted his hand in Jessie’s hair. On her next moan, he took advantage of her open mouth to push his cock inside.

  Instinct guiding him, Jacob slid off the couch so he could get on his knees next to Akira. The old Jacob might have asked for permission—hell, the old Jacob would have never been here—but this Jacob thought nothing of working Jessie’s dress higher so he could have an unobstructed view of Akira’s mouth on her pussy.

  Akira’s head came up for a second, and he caught confusion and arousal in her face before Jessie groaned and Akira returned to her place, running her tongue between the woman’s plump pussy lips. She was so wet, Akira’s face was covered in her juices. Her painted-red lips covered the woman’s clit and she sucked, and Jacob had to squeeze his cock tight not to come right there.

  Jessie squealed, and the vibration must have been enough to send her lover right over the edge. He grunted and held her head still while he came.

  Akira redoubled her efforts, and his vision became startlingly clear. He tracked every detail of this scene and the way she looked—the high flush on her cheeks, the way her breasts dangled below her, her utter absorption.

  Not daring to think, he drew his hand over the elegant line of her back and over her ass, clutching the fabric of her dress.

  She cast him another glance, and he saw surprise this time too. That he was taking any initiative, maybe? That he was still there? That he was embracing her desires?

  He shifted her G-string aside with one crooked finger and found her pussy waiting for him, so hot and wet he almost died when he dipped inside.

  This was his. The thought rooted in his brain with the kind of certainty he couldn’t shake. The pussy he had stamped his mark on when he’d walked through the door. It was his, no matter who fucked it.

  His hand came up, and he smacked the resilient flesh of her ass, indulging a long-held dark fantasy. Christ, how many times had he shamefully watched a porno where a woman was spanked until her ass was red, the flesh jiggling with every strike? How many times had he jerked off, imagining Akira in the place of those nameless actresses?

  He smacked Akira again. A moan and a squeal. Again. Same response. Again and again, his heartbeat pounding, his poor, blood-deprived brain logging each movement she made that told him she liked what he was doing.

  Hungry, he moved his hand lower, sinking his middle finger inside her. She was hot and wet, and she clamped down on his digit so hard he thought he might come from that alone.

  She wiggled her ass, and he took the cue, slowly fucking her with the single finger before adding another. And another, until her ass was bobbing in the air as she fucked back for more.

  Her moans and breaths were muffled against the other woman’s pussy, but Jacob had pulled orgasms from her before. He could read her. She was so hot for it, so eager, it wouldn’t be long.

  For either of the women, it appeared. Jessie clutched her man’s hand and came with a loud scream, rivaling the noises anywhere in the room.

  Akira lifted her head, black eyes flashing and meeting his. “Don’t…stop,” she breathed.

  “I couldn’t.”

  A shriek brought his gaze to the stage. Zoe had released the clamp around the girl’s nipples, and she was massaging her breasts. David’s hand traveled between the girls’ legs as he continued to fuck her from behind.

  “Not that one,” she sobbed.

  “Tess,” Zoe soothed, and captured her head between her hands. “You want to come, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she cried out.

  “Then let us take it off.”

  Tess nodded reluctantly but let out a scream when David did just that, pain and pleasure mixing in the noise until Jacob couldn’t tell what she was experiencing.

  There was no mistaking, however, the pleasure racking her as she began to orgasm, or the way she bore back against the cock fucking her as if she would die without it.

  He met Akira’s eyes, and with one hand he removed the clamp on his nipple. There was pain as blood rushed to the previously constricted tip, but it was the kind of pain that made his balls tighten.

  He reached below Akira and did the same to her breast, loving the way her eyes darkened before closing, the way her body shuddered as she grasped his thigh and Jessie’s calf. He shoved his fingers deep inside her and ground his palm upward, agitating her clit. He held it there as she came and came.

  “Perfect,” he murmured.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jacob didn’t look intimidated, or scared, or frightened, or remotely close to running away.

  He looked hungry. Like a starving man facing a buffet.

  Not for the first time since she had planned this night in a spurt of rash impulse, Akira wondered if she had done the right thing. She’d been so certain he’d be chased off within the first hour, either by disgust or intimidation. It was one thing for him to catch isolated glimpses of her sex drive. It was quite another to see the extent of her depravity firsthand.

  But he seemed to be…loving this? He hadn’t shied away from her hunge
r. He had embraced it. Gotten off on it.

  Rough fingers drifted over her nape, and she shivered. They were leaning against the wall in the adjoining room, where a man worked a woman over with a whip. Still not severe pain, in her opinion, and since Jacob had yet to call it quits, she figured he agreed.

  He was watching the scene, intent on the players but not furiously, violently engaged as he had been when Zoe was running the show. No surprise. Zoe was a master at crafting arousal with everyone in the room.

  His pants were done up again, but his shirt was only half buttoned, resulting in a disheveled and slightly used appearance.

  They hadn’t exchanged much conversation after she had come, her face still wet with Jessie’s pussy. Steve and Jessie had retreated to their couch to canoodle. The couple had met at her last party and become romantically involved. They were still in the cooing stage of new love.

  Their lovey-doveyness wouldn’t have been so annoying if every fiber of Akira’s being hadn’t urged her to also snuggle into Jacob’s lap. That sort of behavior was out of the question when her emotions were so riotous.

  So instead she had quickly tidied herself up and led him out of the room while the stars on the stage shrieked in orgasmic bliss.

  Akira bent her head so his fingers could trail along her neck, and shivered before she caught herself.

  Out of control. That was what he made her feel. Unable to command the world as she normally did. She’d lusted after many a man before, but never one like this. He gave her an indication of lust and she forgot everything in the world except getting him as close to her as possible.

  She’d wrestled herself back in the other room, though. She had been the one controlling the show.

  I might be okay with sharing my girlfriend or my wife. If I was there. If I was a part of it. If she was sharing with me.

  Mentally, she snorted. Lies. Jacob would never be okay with such a thing.

  He didn’t look too upset when your head was between another woman’s thighs.

  ’Cause it was girl on girl. Men’s brains short-circuited when breasts were rubbing together.

  That must be why he looked so disgusted when Remy was fucking you inside a storage closet.

  She blew out a breath and tossed her hair over her shoulder. This was dumb. She was neither his wife nor his girlfriend, so whatever they had been muttering about in that room would never apply to her.

  His breath made the fine hairs on her neck perk up as he leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Have you ever been one of these people?”

  What did that mean? She bristled, ready to defend her friends. “I am one of these people, darling.”

  “No.” He nodded to the center of the room. “The show. Have you ever done that?”

  “Been whipped?”

  “No.”

  “Held the whip?”

  His mouth quirked up. “As believable as you would be as a dominatrix, no. Have you ever been a part of the scene?”

  She took a deep breath. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never found the right incentive.” She lifted a shoulder. “Not that I haven’t given a show or two. Just not on the stage.”

  “Hmm.” His consideration was punctuated by the ecstatic cries of the woman. The noise filled something inside of Akira.

  Depraved. The word was often tossed her way, and though she scoffed at it in public, internally she knew they were right.

  Her life would be so much easier if she were different. If only she were the quiet, biddable female her mother had craved. If she were the silent, malleable doll her father had attempted to browbeat her into.

  Sweat gathered at her hairline, the smell of sex and the heat generated by multiple bodies suddenly overwhelming her. She needed air. “Excuse me,” she choked out. “I have some hostess duties calling my name.”

  He straightened. “Right now?”

  “Mm-hmm. Feel free to stay.” She slipped out of his grasp, his fingers snagging on her hair as she bolted. She didn’t stop to savor that bite of pain.

  She should have known he wouldn’t listen. His heavy footsteps sounded a few seconds behind her in the deserted hallway. “Akira.”

  Perversely, she hated how quiet his voice was. Nothing rattled him, did it? He had to be perfect at everything.

  Including being perfect for you.

  Terror shot through her. No. Nobody was perfect for her. Certainly not Jacob.

  If only you could be the woman for him.

  She whirled around to confront him, her skirt flaring with the movement. “Why aren’t you done yet?”

  His brow furrowed. She had to keep her gaze on his face because it was too tempting to glance down and stare at his chest, which was exposed by the sloppily fastened buttons of his shirt.

  “Done with what?”

  Done with me. “Done trying to prove to me that you can play in my league, Campbell.”

  “Akira…”

  “No. Don’t you do that. Don’t you say my name like that.” She took a step closer. “Finish this. Drop the other shoe. Call me whatever names you want and get out.” He would leave eventually, right? Better it be now. He didn’t belong here. He couldn’t be one of her regulars, her friend.

  How would she be able to get enough of him if she could see him whenever she commissioned those elegant black invitations? She had been obsessed with him for years, and that was when she had been certain he hated her. If he came whenever she called, literally…

  She would never be safe. Control would be gone, forever, because she would be in a continuous state of losing her head over him.

  His mouth dropped open. “I would never call you…”

  She made a sharp motion with her hand, cutting him off. “Go away. Go anywhere. I need a drink.”

  She swiveled and marched away from him, back through the main salon. The vibe had changed in here, as it always did when the night wore on. Skin flashed. Tongues tangled. Hands groped. Carnality replaced flirtation and lust reigned supreme.

  Akira was so inexplicably mad, she couldn’t even savor it.

  A few feet from the bar, Akira was pulled up short by two large hands on her waist. She didn’t have to look behind her to know who had captured her. Those paws could only belong to one person.

  “Let me go,” she said between her teeth.

  His reply was immediate. “No. I don’t think so.”

  If she didn’t know stamping her foot would make her look like a child, she’d do it. “I mean it.”

  “Say the safe word then,” he replied, matter-of-fact. “That’s how it works, isn’t it? You say the safe word, and I have to stop?”

  Spy. She tried to force her mouth to say the word, but she couldn’t. Just couldn’t. “Go home.”

  “Nope.” His hands slipped around her waist to meet in the front, clasping her tight. The sighs and moans and gasps around her were like a soundtrack. Her own personal orchestra of need.

  Jacob’s cock was thick where it nestled against her ass. He made no apologies for it. “I know shutting up is a challenge for you, but you’re going to do it.”

  She snorted, unable to sputter anything else out.

  “I’ll take that as an agreement,” he said. “Now, I get our history makes it difficult for us to have any kind of relationship. I’ve apologized, in every way I know how, short of cutting open my veins and bleeding for you. I told you I want you, and I understand you may be wary of that too. But you need to listen to me now.” He brought his lips directly to her ear, so only she could hear. “There is nothing you could do that would make me want you less. Nothing you could do that would kill this desire for you.”

  “You don’t even know…” she wheezed. “You don’t know me.”

  He laughed. The bastard laughed! All low and amused. “Akira. I do know you. I’ll wager I’ve known you longer than anyone else here.”

  “Length of time doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You’re rig
ht.” He nudged her hair aside so he could kiss her neck. “But you noted how good my observational skills are.”

  “And what have you observed?”

  “You seem to think I’m some sort of scared boy who’s going to run when I discover something about you I don’t like. Which is stupid.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. Let’s get one thing straight. Nothing you do with your body would shock me. And nothing could disgust me.”

  She choked out the words, though a small, dangerous kernel of hope bloomed in her chest. “You say that now, but when…”

  “No.” His hand clenched over her stomach. “There is no but when.”

  “You’re a decent guy…”

  “Decency doesn’t equal a lack of a filthy imagination, Akira.” His breath coasted over her shoulder. “Look around. Tell me what you see.”

  She glanced around her. They had drawn some attention, though she suspected friends were respectfully pretending not to listen in on their furiously whispered conversation. “I see sex.”

  “Yes. And love. And trust. You’re not running from them. Why are you running from me?”

  Because these people didn’t love her as anything more than a friend, a fun hostess. Their bond might be deep, but it wasn’t all-consuming.

  Like it could be with Jacob.

  “It’s just…not the same,” she said stubbornly. “I don’t have to defend myself to you.”

  There was silence. “Perhaps I’m being unfair. I have to prove myself to you, right? That’s the whole point of tonight?” Jacob’s forefinger hooked under the laces on her corset. “Maybe you need to let me show you how bad I can be.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Dumb question. His fingers too blunt and clumsy to figure out the knot on her corset, Jacob merely grabbed ahold of the lace and tugged. Hard. The material tightened uncomfortably over her breasts before loosening with a snap, becoming more lax when he yanked the ties through the eyelets.

  They stood in the center of the room. The young bartender she’d hired more for his discretion and open-mindedness than his drink-mixing capabilities was slowly polishing a glass, but watching her. One by one, as more of her skin was revealed, heads turned their way.

 

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