Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
The bartender returns with my cocktail, and I graciously take it before slipping off the stool and slowly making my way around the VIP floor. There are so many hidden nooks and crannies, and every new discovery blows my mind.
Looping around the back of the bar, it’s a little quieter, and I catch the eyes of two men. On any other day, I’d make a beeline straight for them. They’re gorgeous, definitely athletes, professional football players perhaps, and the thought of the two of them together makes something clench deep inside of me. Yet, I drop my gaze and continue walking, determined not to settle tonight.
Finding a private lounge, far away from the prying eyes that have been trailing up and down my body since the moment I got here, I take a seat and sip on my cocktail, taking everything in while distantly wondering how Chloe is doing upstairs.
The very thought brings a stupid smile to my face. I bet she’s having the time of her life. A guy like Massimo is the kind of guy you don’t pass up on. I bet he’s the type to make a woman finish ten times over with just his tongue before finally flipping her over and taking her deep. There was something about the confidence in his eyes. He knew he was about to rock Chloe’s world, and I couldn’t be happier for her.
Hearing a low moan, I shift my gaze to the right, following the sound to a woman lying across one of the red loveseats. She has one arm draped over her face and her head tipped all the way back. There’s no doubting the intense pleasure this woman is experiencing, and I can’t bring myself to look away. Instead, I follow the curve of her naked body—down over her small chest and toned waist to the apex of her thighs—where I find the darkest set of eyes I’ve ever seen staring right back at me.
I suck in a gasp, and as my gaze collides with his, I become locked within his hold, physically unable to look away. I don’t see his face behind her thigh, but it doesn’t even matter because those eyes tell me everything I need to know.
She might be his appetizer tonight, but I’m going to be his main meal.
My tongue rolls over my bottom lip as I watch the way the woman writhes from his touch, and when he takes her thigh and pushes it up, I finally get the perfect view of his face.
He’s older, maybe in his late-forties, and good God, he’s the perfect definition of a silver fox. He has thick salt and pepper hair, and I can only imagine how good it’d feel to hold on to when I spend the rest of my night riding him.
My greedy stare sails over his sharp jaw, finding it decorated with silver stubble, and even in this dim VIP room, I can see the warmth in his olive skin.
There’s something so alluring about him. I need to know more.
The silver fox is on his knees as he eats the woman’s pussy like a starved man, and despite that, he still towers over her. He’s clearly a tall man, and I don’t care how long I have to sit here; I’ll stay until I see him at his full height.
His broad shoulders barely fit between her spread thighs, and for a moment, I contemplate just how desperate one would have to be to yank the woman off the love seat and take her place. I bet he wouldn’t even skip a beat.
I watch him work her pussy, his mouth closing over her clit as he pushes his fingers deep inside her core. Her back arches off the seat, and I become mesmerized.
I need it.
I need to feel the way his fingers work my body, how his tongue flicks over my clit as his lips close over me. God, I need it like I need the air I breathe.
My pussy throbs with every stroke of his tongue over her, but those eyes. Good God, his eyes! I’ve never been captivated like this before. My chest heaves, matching the tempo of his tongue stroking her clit.
He doesn’t stop watching me, watching how his stare alone has me squirming on this lounge, and when I clench my thighs and grip the neckline of my blouse, his eyes seem to burn like molten lava, spurring me on.
Does he want this? Does he want me to touch myself?
My thighs clench again, and this time, I slide my hand down from the neckline of my blouse and over the curve of my breast before lingering on my waist, the touch sending fire soaring through my veins.
His fingers plunge deeper into her, and as his wrist rotates, I can only imagine the way that would feel inside of me, the way his fingers would curl and massage my walls. I need to experience it for myself, need to feel the way he’d work me.