Dancer in Lingerie (Lingerie 13)

And I wanted him to.

My nails clawed at him harder, and my mouth ached for more of his. Our tongues danced together, we breathed as one, and I gripped the front of his t-shirt because I was eager for him to take it off.

My hand slid up under his shirt, and that’s when I touched the rock-hard ads that felt like mountains. My fingers slid along the deep grooves as they made their way up to his hard chest. My thumb flicked over his nipple then stroked his pecs.

What a beautiful man.

He kept grinding against me, his huge cock hitting my clit in just the right spot.

Fuck, he was gonna make me come. Right in the middle of this ice-cold alleyway where I’d just been assaulted. I didn’t know anything about him besides his name, but my hips were rocking with his, and I couldn’t stop picturing how that dick would feel inside me.

He gave me his tongue again, and that’s when I came.

“Fuck…yes.” I gripped his shoulder and moaned in his mouth, my hips bucking against him as an awesome climax overcame me.

He stopped kissing me—just so he could stare at me. With hard eyes that burned with desire, he watched me convulse against his cock, his arrogance at its peak. His jaw was clenched hard as his fingers dug into the back of my thigh.

Watching him enjoy my climax just made me come harder. I moaned in the alleyway, an orgasm that was better than any I’d had during intercourse—or with my hand. My panties were soaked and I knew they were smearing against his jeans, but my mind was so far in the clouds that I didn’t care.

He kissed me again when I finished, a smile on his lips.

That orgasm felt so good that I didn’t care about being embarrassed. I wanted to keep my dignity, even now. My head rested against the cold wall, and I stared into his handsome face, his throbbing cock still pressed against my pussy.

“That was one hell of a kiss.” His hand was still in my hair, and he grinned like he’d just been crowned as king.

“Wasn’t bad.” I dropped my leg and adjusted my dress. Like I’d expected, there was a dark spot on his jeans—a pussy stain I couldn’t erase.

He glanced at it then looked at me, his arrogance at an all-time high. “Yeah…not bad.”

I moved around him, keeping my head high and my back straight. My clutch was still on the ground and so was my jacket. I pulled on my coat and buttoned it up, hiding my curves from view as I retrieved my purse.

He came up behind me, his heavy footsteps audible in the silence.

I adjusted my hair then turned to face him. “Good night, Bosco.”

He stared at me with those cryptic blue eyes, his thoughts a mystery behind that stone-cold gaze. His hands moved into the pockets of his jeans, and his hard cock still made the front of his jeans rise with a bulge. “I like the way you say my name.”

He probably expected me to invite him over for the night. If he made every woman come like that, then he was probably used to women begging for him. I should be no different, but I refused to let that happen. I didn’t know much about this man, but I knew he was bad news. He might be beautiful as hell, but he was also dangerous as hell. I’d gotten a climax that would put me to sleep the second I got home. When I woke up in the morning, I would forget about this man forever. “You’ll never hear me say it again.”

2

Bosco

I stood at the window of my apartment, on the top floor of the building that I owned, and looked down at the city. It was the middle of the night, hours after Carmen had walked away from me in the alleyway. She’d pulled on her coat, flipped her hair, and left without giving me a backward glance.

Hot as hell.

I expected her to ask to see me again after she soaked my jeans with her arousal. But as if I meant nothing to her, she forgot about me the second I was out of her sight.

Made me want her more.

Carmen Barsetti…what an interesting woman.

She’d just been assaulted by four men, a gun pointed to her head with rope wound around her wrists. On her knees in an alleyway, her end seemed imminent. But she got to her feet again and carried on like nothing happened.

And she fought every step of the way. She stabbed a knife in one guy’s shoulder and broke the balls of another. There wasn’t a hint of tears in her eyes, not a sign of a plea for mercy.

She fought like a man.

I’d never come across a woman like her.