Lap of Luxury (Love Don't Cost a Thing) - Page 50

“His boring, rich-guy dick in his cliché car,” I go on. “I wouldn’t even have got wet doing it, but I would have enjoyed it, knowing how much you would want to kill me for it. I might even have sent you a selfie with his cock in my mouth.”

“I know how to fill your slutty little mouth,” Damir says, tugging down his flies. He pulls his cock out, and just as I’m opening my mouth to tell him how I would have swallowed down all that moron’s come, he shoves it into my mouth.

The heat of him fills me, and my mouth waters as I run my tongue against him. My eyes water too as he forces himself deeper. The unfamiliar smoothness and ridges of his cock tempt me to explore him.

Damir hisses in desire as I run my lips up his length, and then down again. “That’s it, princesa. How pretty you look with a mouth full of my dick.”

I work him slowly, learning the feel of him, what makes him take sharp breaths. With my hand I massage the base of his shaft, and then dip down to cup his balls. They’re soft and heavy in my hand. As I pleasure him, my hips arch forward of their own accord, because heat is filling me up, too.

Damir is breathing roughly and I think he’s about to come, so I’m surprised when he pulls his cock from my lips, hauls me up under my arms and throws me facedown on the bed. My layers of skirt are pulled up and my thong is yanked off along with my shoes. He plants a heavy hand on my back so I can’t get up, and works a knee between my thighs, opening me up.

I think that he’s going to fuck me, but instead he takes his cock in his other hand and works it furiously, poised over my ass. A moment later he comes, and I feel the hot, liquid spurt of his seed over me.

His finger rubs through his slippery come on my asshole, and then he worms it deeper, inside my ass, pushing through the tight ring of muscle. My head rears up with a gasp.

“You feel that, princesa?” His finger pulses in and out of me, short, quick movements that have my pussy clenching at the strange intrusion. “I own this pretty little ass. You’re going to spend the rest of this party with my come inside you to remind you who you belong to.”

He pushes even deeper for a second, and then pulls his finger out and brings his hand down on my ass in a hard spank.

Damir does his pants up. “Clean yourself up and meet me downstairs. And that includes washing out your filthy fucking mouth.”

With that, he slams out of the room.

I lay there, a hot, gasping mess of roiling emotions.

A few minutes later I push myself up off the bed, and look around. I’m alone, and my back end is covered in come. I hold up my skirts and wander woozily into the ensuite to clean myself up.

I pull my underwear back on and put on my shoes, clean the lipstick smudges off my chin and apply some more, and then head out. Damir is downstairs, drinking a glass of what looks like whisky. As I head over, he excuses himself from the two men he’s chatting to and wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me to him.

“Bethany.” He plants a kiss on my throat, all sweetness and smiles now. “How beautiful you look.”

A waiter passes by with a tray of champagne, and Damir takes a glass for me. I swallow a sip, feeling a combination of wired and horny. Within the shelter of his strong arm, I press myself against him and pretend that everyone else has disappeared.

“If only that idiot had tried to drag you off in front of everyone,” he murmurs in my ear. “What a performance we would have given them.”

“But is that part of the plan?” I manage, remembering where we are.

“Around you, I seem to forget th

e best laid plans.” Damir sinks his teeth lovingly into my earlobe. “If you’re a very good girl for the rest of the evening, I’ll make you come when we get back to the yacht. I saw how wet and needy your little pussy is.”

I shift from my left foot to my right, feeling how slick I am between my legs. “What are we doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, this and that.” He runs a thoughtful finger over my diamond necklace and takes another sip of whisky. “You’re a puzzle, princesa.”

“Hmm?”

“Yes. These diamonds didn’t buy me a shred of loyalty. There are mirrors everywhere and I haven’t seen you admire yourself all evening.”

“Maybe I’m just not vain like you.” I look past him, studying an oil painting of a naked nymph.

“I don’t think you have it in you to be a gold-digger or the trophy wife of some rich man. You want something more.”

“Why does that matter to you? You don’t care what I want.”

“Au contraire. Come along, my princesa. Indulge me. Tell me what you really want.”

“So you can use it against me? I’m not going to hand my kidnapper my deepest, darkest desires on a silver platter.”

Tags: Brianna Hale Erotic
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