Even in the low light, I could see his blue eyes glitter with laughter.
“No, baby. I don’t want to dance. At least not the kind of dancing you’re after.” He moved over on the wide velvet bench, making room for me. “Have a seat?”
Well at least he hadn’t kicked me out on the spot, and taking a deep breath, I maneuvered my curvy form down on the cushion next to him, hoping that I didn’t make the whole thing jounce up and down.
But I was overwhelmed by Mr. VIP immediately. He smelled so good. Clean and cool, with an underlying masculine musk that made the pulse drum in my neck and between my legs. I just about melted, blushing, thinking anyone could see how he made me burn. But no one seemed to be paying attention.
Because each VIP booth was separate and semi-private. Even though we could see down to the dance floor and the people down there could see us if they really looked, it felt like we were in our own mini-world. The music thumped like a runaway heartbeat. The booth next to us was loud with the laughter of a half dozen or so people, but I couldn’t see them and I was sure they couldn’t see us.
Hesitantly, I bit my lip.
“Hi, I’m Lacey,” was my low murmur.
He turned completely to face me then, putting his back to the rest of the club, and braced a massive arm against the table. I felt trapped between his big, warm body and the velvet of the bench. A good kind of trapped.
“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” came his low, smooth growl again.
What in the world? Was he insulting my name? Gulping, I stared at him again.
“What do you mean?” was my murmur, tentatively licking my lips. What did I just get myself into?
I shifted against the bench, squirming uncomfortably at the heat between my thighs. And those piercing blue eyes took it all in knowingly, like he could read my mind. Just like before, he shot a long, appraising look at my boobs, mentally weighing them, before dropping his gaze to the vee between my legs, shadowy and secret.
Oh god, the air was so hot, my cunt already creaming moistly. Could he smell it? Was my wet pussy scent evident? I twisted uncomfortably again, boobs heaving and falling even as I tried to look casual.
Those male nostrils flared slightly, the gleam in his eyes becoming deeper as he sniffed. But Mr. VIP didn’t mention it, to my eternal thanks. Instead, he asked me a question.
“Did you come all the way over here for conversation?”
I stammered.
“I just came to ask you to dance,” was my reply.
He moved then, thigh brushing mine. It was the same thigh that had his hard dick pressed alongside it, the ridge impossible to miss. Barely able to speak, my eyes flitted to the bulging mass before meeting his again. How did he manage to fit that thing into his pants, much less into a woman?
But the alpha was still in control.
“And I told you I don’t dance,” came his smooth reply. “My turn to ask you a question then.” He pressed in closer, that whiskey-laced breath warm and sweet on my cheek. “Do you want to fuck?”
I gasped, unable to hide my shock at his boldness.
“Wh- what? I’m sorry?”
No way I could have heard right. But the gleam in his eyes only grew deeper and darker, turning the ice blue a pitch black.
“You heard me, princess.”
I couldn’t help but notice his dick getting harder and filling out in those slacks. “If you’re game, I want to fuck,” he said. “Your tits look hot in that dress and I’d love to feel them on my face.” A finger reached over the already small space between us and flicked at the shadow between my breasts. “I’d love to rub my cock between them and fuck them until I come.” His hand slid over my knee and under the dress. “You’d look so fucking good with my cum dripping around your neck like pearls.”
Oh my god. A shiver took over my entire body. All I wanted to do was say yes to him. Yes to his dick ramming between my tits until it spurted hot and wet all over me. Yes to his semen dribbling down my neck, bubbly and sticky. Yes to just about anything he wanted.
But still, this was reality. We were in a crowded club, and there wasn’t any way to get down.
“I don’t think—” and I had to lick my lips again because they were so dry from me being nervous. “I don’t think you can give me a pearl necklace here in front of all these people.” But the image had already burned itself into my mind’s eye, tantalizing and hot.
“Maybe not, but I could fuck you here though.” His hand reached the crotch of my panties and I gasped, shivering as his fingers rubbed my already swollen clit through the cloth. “What do you think about that?”