by Danika Dare
“Why me?” I tried. “You can obviously have your pick of women. What made you ask me to come this weekend?”
He lowered his shades, and let his eyes play over me, lingering on my legs, then my breasts, then my mouth. “It’s a funny story, actually. I don’t see the harm in telling you. You see, I didn’t find you by accident.”
This was news to me. “You didn’t?”
“No. I have a friend I play poker with. Amos. Does that ring a bell?”
My mouth shaped into a smile at the name. “Yeah. He’s a regular. Very sweet guy.” I meant it. He was at the club at least four times a week, always begging for my attention, but he was very courteous about keeping his hands to himself.
“Well, he’s my poker buddy, and he’s been talking about you for months, saying he’s in love with a stripper. Finally, I was curious enough to come see for myself. He wasn’t exaggerating about you.”
I felt unaccountably flattered.
“You were ideal for the role. Sheila is a stunning creature and she knows it, so I needed someone outrageously beautiful to make even her feel insecure. You spoke well, I could tell you were intelligent enough to hold a conversation. And I was attracted to you. I wanted you, instantly and ferociously. You can’t fake that kind of lust and you can’t hide it either. Also, the wedding was bound to be tedious for me, and you’re a very pleasant distraction. Like I said, you’re ideal.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, I felt too many things all at once. Flattered, worried—a touch irritated at his obsession with this other woman—and abundantly turned on.
“Lift your skirt higher,” he said suddenly. “Show me your pussy. I want to see if you’re wet.”
I should have been becoming accustomed to the way he spoke to me, but I wasn’t at all. His out of the blue vulgarity never ceased to shock me and turn me on.
“I don’t think—“ I began, with the best of intentions.
“Don’t think. Lift up your skirt and show me that gorgeous cunt. I want to feel you clench around my fingers again.”
I was panting as I obeyed.
His brows drew together in irritation as he looked at my white lace G-string. “They weren’t supposed to give you any panties. I was very specific in my instructions. Take those off.”
I did it, dislodging his hand on my thigh as I inched them down.
His brow smoothed out when I bared myself completely from the waist down. “Good. Hold that skirt up just like that. Now spread your thighs. Let me look at you.”
I obeyed.
He made a little tsking noise when he saw the moisture there. He touched me, holding up two wet fingers.
“Is this all for me?” he asked blandly.
I nodded, watching in fascination as he pulled his fingers loose, brought them to his mouth, and sucked them clean.
CHAPTER SIX
For a time he just looked looked at me. And looked. It was nerve-racking how long we just drove in silence while he alternated between looking at the road and glancing down at my bared, wet pussy.
I was squirming on the seat when he finally broke the silence. “Would you like me to get you off?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“All I have available at the moment are my fingers. Would you like me to fuck you with my fingers?”
My eyes were on his big hands, his thick fingers as I breathed out, “Yes.”
He smiled and slid his hand between my legs, going right for my clit, rubbing it just right, like he knew exactly what my body craved.
He had me close, so close, when he abruptly took his hand away.
I couldn’t help it, I cried out in protest.
He smiled coldly. “Take my dick out. I want you to get on your hands and knees, lean over across to my seat, and let me fuck your mouth while I plow my fingers into your pussy from behind. I’ll hit all the right spots and get you off fast. And I want you to deep throat me while I do it. You can use your hands if you need to, I know I’m more than a mouthful, but take me as deep down your throat as you can swallow. I want to feel your throat muscles squeezing my tip while your lips suck at my base. I want to fuck your mouth hard, as hard as you can take it. Are you up for that?”
I was already unbuckled, hands on his belt, not just ready to accommodate him, but beyond that, I was ready to beg him for it.
But he seemed to want an answer. I had him bared, my lips and tongue worshipping his tip when a rough hand in my hair pulled me up short. “I asked you a question,” he said quietly and intensely.
“Yes, yes, yes, I want that.”
“Tell me. Describe what it is that you want.”
“I want you to fuck my mouth. I want you to finger fuck my pussy while your cock fucks my mouth.”
He groaned and shoved my head down, deep throating me with the first plunge.
I nearly gagged, and he eased up, letting me work into a head bobbing rhythm.
After about thirty seconds, I felt the car slow, drifting right, onto the wide shoulder of the road, and coming to a stop.
He put the car in park. Apparently I’d distracted him more than he was counting on.
Good.
He gripped my hair roughly, fucking into my mouth as his fingers plundered my pussy. “Deeper,” he gritted out. “Take me deep into that throat. I know you can do it, baby. You’re so good. Your mouth is perfect. Take me as deep as you can. That’s right. Grip my dick with your throat. And use those lips to grip my shaft. Now suck it. Suck it hard.” He sucked in a breath. “Yes. Just like that. Fuck yes. Your mouth is so good. I’m going to give you so much cum, and you’re going to swallow every drop of it like a good girl.”
His words as much as his huge hands got me off. I was clenching my release around two of his thick, busy fingers when he went off in my mouth.
I sucked him dry, swallowing every drop, still bobbing on his shaft until he pulled me up by my hair and pushed me back into my own seat.
I started to straighten my clothes, pulling down my skirt.
“No,” he said curtly, putting the car in drive, and pulling back onto the highway, “leave it up. I’m not done looking at you. We’re in the middle of the desert, and no one can see into this car anyway. Pull down your top. I want to play with your tits.”
My eyes were on his cock, which he’d barely tucked back into his pants. I wanted it again, but this time I wanted it buried inside of my cunt.
He seemed to read my thoughts, and he pushed his sunglasses up on his head, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at me. “You want this dick in your pussy, don’t you?”
I nodded. “I love your accent. I swear you can get away with saying any outrageous thing to me, and it’s because of that damned accent.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, blame the accent if you want to. Now show me those big, mouth-watering tits. I want to feel your flesh while I think about what I’m going to do to them.”
I reached behind me, undoing the button behind my neck, and lowered the dress, exposing my full, aching breasts to him.
He casually fondled me with his free hand. “I’m going to fuck these, too. First I’ll suck on them, then I’ll push them together and shove my cock between, then coat them in my cum. Would you like that?”
I squeezed my thighs together, arching my back to push my flesh more firmly into his hand. “Yes.”
“Would you like me to fuck your pussy first, or your tits?”
“My pussy,” I said, the word feeling weird coming out of my mouth, since I never normally used it.
“If you’re very good, I’ll give you my dick soon.”
I wanted him to do more then and there, but he backed off for a time after that, though he wouldn’t let me cover up for hours, leaving me exposed to his eyes while we talked.
He was very easy to open up to. It felt, from the start, like I could speak to him about anything and everything. I never would have guessed it, but he made me feel comfortable.
We
chatted for a long time, until I grew sleepy, and drifted into a light doze.
I woke up with his fingers pushing into me, getting me off before I’d fully regained consciousness.
My first sight upon waking was him sucking his fingers clean.
“Straighten your dress,” he told me, eyes on the road. “We’re nearly there.” He held out his hand. “Give me your panties. You won’t need anything like that this weekend.”
I handed them to him, rushing to cover myself. When he saw I was dressed again he said, “Be a dear and put my dick away for me.”
I tucked him into his pants, having a hard time zipping him in, but finally getting it.
He was hard, and I couldn’t help sneaking in a few strokes as I went.
“Want me to take care of this real quick?” I asked, squeezing him.
He gently disengaged my hand, not looking at me. “There’s no time. We’re almost there.”
“You could pull over again. I’ll be fast.”
I got a very gratifying look for that. He wanted me bad. This lust cut both ways. Good.
“We’re already running late, but believe me when I tell you: I will be cashing in on that offer later. You have no idea. I haven’t even begun. You’ll be lucky if you aren’t walking with a limp tomorrow.”
He pulled over for gas ten minutes from our destination, and I went to use the restroom to freshen up.
When I came back out he had the trunk open and he was leaning casually against the side of the car. He motioned me to him and I went. Without a word he opened a velvet jewelry box and pulled out huge diamond hoop earrings. “The jewelry is all on loan,” he told me, “so be careful with it.”
I just nodded and reached for the earrings. They were gorgeous, and just the sort of thing this man’s trophy girlfriend would be wearing.
He brushed my hands aside and put them on for me. “Sucking my cock suits you,” he said blandly as he carefully slipped an earring on. “You look stunning with your lips bruised like that. It makes me want to kiss you, and fuck your mouth all over again.”
I was trying to keep my breath even, to look as unaffected as he sounded.
His mouth quirked up in a half-smile, one hand roaming into my hair, gripping a handful. “You don’t need all of that lip gloss, though. Come here.”
Right there in front of the gas pump, he slanted his head, took my mouth with his for the first time, and kissed me breathless.
I ignited. Passion poured from his lips to mine, and I’d never wanted anyone more.
He licked and sucked my lipgloss off, then abruptly pulled me away with the hand in my hair.
It had ended too soon for me, and he looked too composed as he studied my face. “One more thing,” he said.
He was still leaning against the car, my lower body flush with his, and I felt his free hand reach into his pocket.
He pulled out another jewelry box, this one smaller. “If anyone asks, we’ve been engaged for a month.”
My eyes widened as he opened the box, pulled out a gorgeous monstrosity of a diamond ring, huge and emerald cut, and shoved it on my finger.
“That thing is on loan, as well, and it’s worth a small fortune, so like I said, be careful with the jewelry.”
I was staring at the ring as he began to drive again. “So we’ve been together eight months, engaged one,” I said, going over the fake details of our fake relationship out loud. “We met at a coffee shop where you saw me studying and instantly wanted me, then proceeded to easily seduce me. Am I getting all of the important bits right?”
“Yes. One more thing, though. Sheila knows me. She knows I’m a very physical man, and I’d never be in a relationship unless I was wildly attracted. I want you to act like you can’t keep your hands off me. PDA is an understatement for how I want you to act.”
It was sad how easy that part would be for me. Even as he spoke, I wanted to reach over and touch him, any part of him. “I think I can do that,” I said, my voice thick with lust.
He smiled. “I have no doubts about that.”
“Do you seduce everyone this easily? Has any woman ever turned you down?”
He spared a glance at me, his eyes shuttered against me, hiding everything. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
I looked away. I really didn’t.
But he wasn’t finished. “I could ask you the same,” he said, a bite to the words. “I’d venture to guess that no one’s ever turned you down.”
He wasn’t wrong, no one had turned me down, but the difference between he and I was that I didn’t do things like this often, or truth be told, ever. I’d actually only had a boyfriends, and none recently. Watching my sister go through the ringer with one creep after another, and then getting mixed up in the strip club scene, where guys were never exactly stellar, had made me want to keep men at arm’s length for a while now.
“Are you on birth control?” he asked me.
Well, that was a hell of a subject changer. “Yes,” I answered.
“How long has it been since your last partner?” he asked.
“That’s a very personal question.”
“It’s not idle,” he said simply. “I’ve been tested since my last partner, and I’m clean. Your turn.”
“Yes, I’m clean.”
“Good. I’m usually strict about using a condom, but the idea of putting my dick in you bare is getting the better of me.”
I couldn’t say with any conviction that it wasn’t getting the better of me, too.
“I want you full of my cum. I want to stuff you with it. I want to shoot so many loads inside of you that it’s dripping out of you, and then I want to shove it back in, so I can look at your pussy like that, and play with it, and then, while it’s stuffed to dripping with my seed, I’m going to shove my cock inside of you again, fuck it out of you, and start all over again.”
God. The shit that came out of his mouth, in that sexy as hell accent, was like nothing I’d ever heard before, and I’d heard plenty while working at Exhibitionist. The things he said were crude, uncouth, and outrageous, but also somehow managed to make me hotter than anything I’d ever heard. No matter how over the top it was, I wanted to do anything and everything he said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He pulled up to the hotel and a valet opened my door. I stepped out and straight into Kashnikov’s big, muscular, welcoming arms.
He tossed the keys to the valet and led me away, his arm wrapped possessively around my waist.
He stroked his free hand through my hair as we checked in, keeping me close against his body, like he wasn’t willing to relinquish physical contact with me for even a second.
“I trust everything is in order in the suite? All of my requests are in place?” he asked at the front desk.
“Yes, sir. Everything is ready in the suite.” The man handed Kashnikov two keys. “Enjoy your stay, and call the front desk if you need anything at all.”
“Very good,” Kashnikov said.
As we waited for the elevator, he pulled me closer and slanted his mouth over mine in a passionate, mind-befuddling kiss.
Even knowing it was all fake, I loved the possessive way he held me to him.
He pulled back slightly, murmuring against my lips. “We’ve been spotted. It looks like you get to meet the blushing bride.”
I was still taking in what he’d said when he straightened. It was a good thing he was holding me to his side, as my knees were wobbly from the kiss.
It took me a moment, two, three, to register the couple that had approached us.
The bride and groom, I knew at a glance.
Sheila was stunning, a head turner, everything he’d said and more. She had ravishing red hair, gorgeous green eyes, and a lithe, shapely body that was made for tempting men. If there was any woman dynamic and striking enough for Kashnikov to be hung up on, it was this one.
Her ruby red lips lifted in a friendly smile as she caught my eye. “Hello. I’m Sheila. Welcome to our we
dding. We’re so pleased to meet you . . . ?” She held out her hand, and I took it, trying to smile back.
I felt a little light-headed from the kiss, and woozy from the shock of Sheila, but Kashnikov answered for me. “This is Greta, my fiancée.”
Her face fell for a moment in shock, but she quickly recovered, smiling warmly and congratulating us.
A dark haired man stepped forward. He was good-looking, but that was it. He wasn’t larger than life. He wasn’t sexy as hell. He wasn’t sin incarnate. He was nothing compared to Kashnikov. Who would pick the one over the other? At first glance, there were no obvious answers.
“I’m Danny,” he introduced himself. “So nice to meet you.” He nodded at Kashnikov, his smile less friendly than it had been for me. “Glad you could make it, Kash.”
Kashnikov nodded solemnly at the bride and groom, his gaze spectacularly detached. “I wouldn’t miss it. Please excuse us. It was quite a drive, so we’re going to lay down for a bit before dinner.”
Something arresting crossed Sheila’s face at that. She knew we weren’t going up to nap, obviously, and it clearly bothered her. She recovered in an instant, her warm smile back. “Of course. We’ll see you at dinner.”
Our suite was on the top floor, of course. I’d expected as much. Only the best for Kashnikov.
What I hadn’t expected was the music. Something soft and seductive was playing as we walked into the lush entryway.
And the flowers. Vase upon vase of roses on every free surface. Red ones, white ones, peach ones, pink ones. Lavender, and yellow. A floral assault in every corner of every room in the large suite.
Even more unexpected were the soft pink petals arrayed on the floor, from the entrance to the bedroom, and covering the king-sized bed.
Kashnikov went to the bar and popped open a chilled bottle of champagne. He poured two glasses, handing me one while I took in the room.
“It’s beautiful,” I told him, “Very romantic. I won’t flatter myself by thinking it’s for my benefit.”
He gave me a sardonic smile. “Sheila is an event planner and a busybody. She’ll know the details of everyone’s accommodations. Particularly mine. This will drive her mad. I’ve never been one for romantic gestures.”