“Ugh!” she exclaimed, as she burrowed into her comforter and attempted to will herself to sleep.
Chapter 5
Mick stood sentry behind Winston during his brunch with the man from Macau, bored to tears. There was no danger present in the room, so Mick made up scenarios in his head; assassins bursting through the window or door, a bomb in a briefcase, something, anything, to allay his boredom. The release he’d given himself had only whet his appetite, and his cock had remained rampant all morning; semi-hard and aching for more attention.
He’d heard of guys his age having problems “getting it up,” but Mick suffered from no such affliction. His drive hadn’t waned at all as he’d gotten older, and his erections remained as hard as marble.
When the notion of a kill team bursting into the room to test his reflexes failed to inspire him, his thought returned to Scald.
Making out on the dance floor had left him throbbing, and she was gasping. He’d never wanted anyone more.
Taking her hand, they made their way through the casino, pausing to kiss. Out in the light, she was even prettier than Mick dared to imagine.
He was the most handsome man Ayla had ever seen.
“Do you have a room here?” Mick asked. Ayla shook her head and they reached the exit doors to a short corridor which emptied into the parking garage.
Ayla was buzzed, and they were both lust-drunk. The blood boiling in their bodies robbed them of the rationality to slow down; to ask for names or to do anything they’d normally do. They were on fire; consumed by desire. Both so horny that it hurt.
Mick didn’t know where he was going, exactly, just that he needed to be alone with this girl, posthaste.
They crossed the garage and stepped through the doors and into a stairwell. Mick led them up two flights of stairs. He peered through and noticed that they were on the roof level. It was nearly empty.
He pulled Ayla through the door and out into the cooling night air. The dazzling neon lights of the Strip stretched in both directions.
They walked to the Strip side and he stood behind her. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and he kissed the sides and back of her neck. When his teeth scraped against the tender flesh, it sent chills down her spine. Ayla whimpered and writhed for him as he held her. She took his large hand and placed it on her breast, which he enveloped and kneaded through the dress. The breath caught in her throat as she felt his erection pressing squarely between the cheeks of her ass.
So fucking close to where she needed it. She was soaked.
Mick felt her begin to grind back against him and, encouraged by her response, his hands began to explore her glorious body.
He alternated between her breasts, letting his free hand slide down Ayla’s stomach, caressing her sides and reaching down to her inner thighs.
She could smell her own arousal; it was thick and unmistakable. Her face burned hot; she was having what seemed like an out of body experience. Her mind abandoned her, replaced by a consuming need to get fucked. To be bred. To be used by this man for his pleasure.
“I need it so bad,” she gasped, hoarsely as he groped and ground himself against her.
Mick straightened up and looked around. In Las Vegas, there are cameras everywhere. He didn’t necessarily mind being seen; he just didn’t want to be interrupted.
They were near a car, and if they moved about ten feet to their right, the camera would have only an obscured view of them. “Move this way,” he instructed, and he eased her shuffling form the required direction and distance.
Ayla bent at the waist, leaning forward, ass thrust back.
“Tell me what you want,” Mick commanded.
“Just fuck me. Take me. I’ll do anything. I need it so bad.” She had surrendered wholly to her lust and to this grizzly bear of a man. She didn’t recognize herself or her voice. The desperate, gnawing ache was all she knew.
Mick dropped to one knee behind her and let his hands slide up and down her legs. Her calves popped with a diamond shape thanks to the heels she wore, and the sight of it so close, coupled with the aphrodisiac aroma of her arousal made Mick’s cock swell against his belt.
He leaned in and kissed the backs of Ayla’s legs, the spot just behind her knees sending shockwaves directly to her core.
Mick’s hands slid up and down her sides as he kissed her legs. He gently guided her feet together with pressure on her ankles, and he reached inside her dress to divest her of her already ruined panties.
Ayla’s mine reeled. This is really happening, she thought, trying to focus on the lights of the sign at the Venetian down the street through her hazy eyes.
Once Mick had assisted her in stepping out of her panties, he coaxed her legs wide apart and pressed down on the small of her back and lifted her hips, positioning her exactly how he wanted her.
He watched a single droplet of her honey slide down the inside of her right thigh, and Mick leaned in to catch it on the tip of his tongue. Ayla moaned as his tongue traveled slowly up her inner thigh, tracing the path of the rivulet of Ayla’s most precious fluid to its source.