“I will, but I don’t want anyone seeing you getting so aroused, so you need to stay here and keep your eyes on the balcony. My body will hide you,” he told her, as he kept her caged in with his broad chest, strong arms, and his height, like a protective shield covering up her desire, keeping it in a precious cocoon. Even though they were in public, surrounded by drinkers and dancers, she felt like they were all alone: the two of them, shrouded in the way they felt.
His fingers returned to her panties, and this time he slid them down the front of her underwear, his finger brushing over her clit.
“I want to tell you all the things I love about your pu**y, Julia,” he whispered hotly as he stroked her clit, his other hand keeping a firm grip on her hip.
“Tell me,” she said, her voice so desperate, her need for him so unbelievably high. She felt as if she might combust, rocket on out of here from the way he stroked her. Masterfully. This was no stranger’s touch. This was a lover’s touch. The touch of a man who knew, who had studied, who’d listened, who’d taken his time and learned everything that pleased his woman and then some.
“These are the things I love. How when I first slip my hand inside your panties I find that wet spot on the cotton panel that tells me you’re hot for me,” he said, sliding his fingers across her. “Like right now, and then when I first touch your pu**y, you’re already wet all over, with my favorite lubricant—your desire.” She shut her eyes, and was starting to see stars. She began to rock gently against his hand, and he let her. He didn’t try to stop her movements because she kept them subtle enough. “And you’re so sleek and soft on the outside, and hot on the inside,” he said, sliding a finger inside to demonstrate. She hitched in a breath as he continued his ode to her pu**y. “And your panties get so wet they’re useless.”
Another gasp. Another sharp inhale. A moan stifled in her throat.
“I love that I do this to you,” he said, circling her clit faster with the pad of his thumb, thrusting his index finger in and out. “That you’re wetter now than the night I met you, that I can still whisper in your ear, and tell you all the things I want to do to your sweet, delicious, perfect pu**y and it still makes you quiver in my arms,” he said against her neck, layering a hard kiss on her skin as he continued lavishing attention between her legs. “And I love that as I move my fingers, and slide them over you and in you, and on that f**king fantastic clit, I can feel your wetness all over my hand.”
Her belly tightened, and the walls inside her felt like they were about to come tumbling down. She grew wetter, hotter, and she could feel her arousal dampen his hand. She bit back a cry.
“Just like that. I can feel more of you right now, Julia. I love that as you get more and more turned on, it feels like you’re gushing on me.”
“I am,” she whispered breathily, the whole world behind her eyelids like hot flashing light as pulses of pleasure spread through her body.
“When I watch you touch yourself, I can literally see your desire for me,” he said, his finger plunging deeper, his thumb swirling faster against her aching, throbbing clit. “And when I bury my face between your legs, I feel like I’m drinking you, and I can’t get enough.”
Involuntarily, she started rocking into his hand, and panting—panting so f**king hard as her orgasm took hold, and she desperately wanted to shout. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip, and immediately he clasped his hand over her mouth. “Cry out in my hand. I’m the only one who can hear you,” he said in her ear, the music in the club keeping their secret.
She moaned against his palm, his hand silencing her screams of bliss as he stroked the last few waves of her climax from her, his fingers inside her and outside her, sending her far into the beautiful abyss of pleasure and love.
Eventually, when her body stopped shuddering, he smoothed out her skirt and blouse and licked her taste off his fingers. “Do you think we just violated your morals clause?”
She laughed. “If anyone saw us, surely we broke all the rules of decorum.”
“If anyone is looking, I hope they’re jealous as f**k because I get to have the most fantastic woman in the world.”
* * *
Back at the hotel a little later, he gave her another present wrapped in shiny paper. When she opened it, she ran her fingers over the silver metal of the handcuffs, inscribed with the name of the manufacturer, Joy Delivered, a high-end maker of sex toys.
Then he cuffed her, held her wrists behind her back in one hand, grabbed hold of her hair in the other and delivered more joy to her as he took her bent over the bed, the only man who would ever make her feel this way, the only man who would could f**k her when she was on all fours and still make her feel like a queen.
But she did. She felt like queen of the world, ruler of the heavens and earth even with her ass in the air, her hair pulled tight, her hands shackled. In that pose—that bound pose of submission— he sent her soaring, owning her body, because he wanted her to feel extraordinary. She did, oh God, she did as he pleased her, over and over and over.
* * *
Judging from the report of his associate, there’d been no card hustling going on tonight with those two, just a whole lot of public near-fornication at Tao. His dick twitched angrily as he thought of that man having his hands all over that luscious redhead. She was a hot little thing, and it pissed him off that he was horny for her.
It made him want to get to the bottom of this even faster. Get her out of his way. She was a target, nothing more.
Besides, a deal was a deal was a deal, and the fact that she was here, sniffing around his turf, made it clear that terms had been broken. She was the evidence of clauses not being followed.
On his way out of the Allegro he spotted the guy she’d been having drinks with at the pool earlier. At least, it looked like him from the picture he’d seen: young face, skinny build, the guy with the hoodie again. He was playing the slots right now, trying to ring up some money from Dolly Parton. Hmmm. He looked like a regular old casino tourist, and he wasn’t sure what to make of him, or how the guy was connected to Julia.
He went home that night, determined to handle her tomorrow. He couldn’t risk f**king up this gig; the last one had been botched, and this was his chance to make good. Once inside his home, he dug through a carton of leftovers in the fridge, hunting for something to eat before bed. But what he found was a week old, maybe more, judging from the smell. He tossed the rancid carton in the trash and went to bed hungry, mad as hell and ready for tomorrow.