Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Orgasm approaches hard and fast. Tension builds between my legs. Heat fractures my thoughts. I moan, feeling Alejandro’s hands at my hips, urging me on, and Del’s hot stare burning my back.
As I climb up, up, Alejandro lifts his mouth from mine and sends me a deliciously wicked smile. God, the man can melt steel with that look. And I’m nowhere near that solid.
“You ache.” He doesn’t ask; he knows.
“Yes.”
“You’re wet.”
No doubt, he feels my wet folds through the thin fabric of his slacks, and the friction it provides is driving me out of my mind.
“Yes.”
Then he reaches around me, lifts my skirt to my waist, and glides rough palms over my bare ass. I know Del can see my cheeks and the delicate white thong bisecting them. I swear I can feel his stare burning my backside. And I know it affects him because he groans.
That sound reaches between my legs and jolts me. Why it turns me on so much to turn Del on I can’t explain. And I don’t want to know. Tomorrow, I’ll likely be mortified. Tonight, I just don’t care.
“Do you like knowing that Del is worshipping your ass with his hungry gaze?” Alejandro rasps in my ear. “That he’s so hard for you and would kill to be in my place right now?”
I can’t help it; I whimper.
“That’s right. But he won’t touch you. He’ll watch, and he’ll want you, but I’ll take every sinful pleasure your body has to offer.”
The man knows how to talk to me. With a few choice words, he utterly unwinds me.
Then he tugs on the tie securing the skirt around my waist and slips the last button free. My skirt flutters to the stage. Now I’m wearing nothing but my very damp thong.
He lowers his hands to my hips again, forcing my sex down on his thigh once more. To the music, we sway, his impressive erection brushing my belly, inciting more hunger. My need to come grows, expanding until I’m moaning, muttering words of nonsense and need.
“Please. Please!”
“I’ll give you all you can take. Then, querida, I’ll give you more.”
He barely finishes whispering the promise when he bends my back over his arm, arching my breasts up so he can feast on them again. My nipples are so hard under his tongue, and no matter how he licks, suckles, or bites, I only want more.
To be so lost in the moment, in the sensation, stuns and amazes me. For all the times I wondered if I’m “normal” because I don’t respond to a man’s touch, I now have my answer. I respond to Alejandro. To Del standing now, his eyes on me. To the forbidden burn of everything that might transpire tonight.
Still bent over Alejandro’s arm, I lock my stare with Del’s, to entice him with what he can’t have. And though the room is upside down from this vantage, I can’t miss the small crowd filing in. Men. More than five, fewer than a dozen, they all have tense bodies, hot eyes.
“Fuck, she’s hot,” murmurs a total stranger.
Del stands in the middle of them, fists clenching at his sides. “She is that.”
“They want you,” Alejandro murmurs against my neck. “And I want to show them what they’re missing.”
Before I can process what he means, Alejandro spins me around to face the audience. Oh, god. They stand a mere five feet away. So close I swear I can feel their hot breaths on my skin. I recognize Dimples. His smile is gone, replaced by seething want and an erection a blind woman can’t miss.
He and the rest of the crowd are focused on my bare breasts, loose and heavy as Alejandro forces my hips to maintain the rhythm of the music.
Collective groans resound, sending a rush of desire inside me. Can I actually come simply from being watched?
Since I frequently have trouble orgasming during masturbation, simply letting loose here, now, is a heady, wonderful thought.
Alejandro slides his palms down my arms, still behind me, rocking to the beat of the music. Then he grasps my wrists and lifts my hands above my head until they encircle his neck.
Another chorus of groans erupt from the audience. A quick glance down proves the new pose raises my breasts, makes my nipples stand straight out like an invitation.
“Don’t move,” Alejandro commands. “Just feel…and let go.”
I give him a shaky nod, wondering, eager—aching—for whatever he plans next.
I don’t have to wait long. A moment later, his fingertips trail down the side of my breast, across the flat of my abdomen, and disappear right into my tiny wet thong.
He gives me no time to absorb the fact he's fondling me in public—and that I love it—before his fingers zero in on my clit. A brush, a rub. An electric spark. Tingles dance through my sex, in my belly, down my thighs. The tension ratchets up until I can barely breathe.