Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol 1)

I’d been ready to bolt, to change my mind and demand he set me free when his deep, rich voice ghosted along my cheek.

“Don’t turn around.”EightNico“What?”

Her whispered word hit me with a familiarity, just a prick at my conscience before it fell away into the night.

“Don’t turn around.”

Despite my order, her head jerked to the side, her bold red lips coming into view. As punishment, I leaned down and nipped her ear, soothing it with a lick. Her gasp shifted to a soft oh, her lips forming the perfect circle I wanted to slide my cock into.

“Don’t talk.” I pressed my chest to her back, grinding against her to let her feel how hard I already was. “Just feel me.”

Her chest heaved over her labored breathing, and I ached to tug the fabric aside and bare the hard tips pressing against the thin fabric, but I used restraint, instead focusing on her petal-soft skin as I dragged my fingers up her arms. Goose bumps rippled along her skin, and her head fell forward at the same time she pressed into me.

I’d noticed her as soon as she’d come into the room. Her body wrapped in red, the dress twisted in ways it looked like one wrong move could lead to a peep show. Her dark hair piled on her head had me itching to rip the pins free just so I could watch it cascade down her back.

Half her face was covered by the black lace mask, but the perfect cupid’s bow of her full lips reminded me of a woman I couldn’t escape.

Verana.

I knew it wasn’t her. I’d overheard her at the office, talking of plans with friends this weekend. But in that moment, I wanted it to be her.

So, when I’d made my request, I asked specifically for the woman in red. It wasn’t always one-hundred-percent, but the fifty-dollar tip helped. Walking into the upstairs room to find her leaning out against the railing of the balcony, her back bare and begging me closer, I knew I would’ve paid five-hundred dollars to make sure this woman was the one waiting for me.

For tonight, I’d allow myself this fantasy—just once—to exorcise my demons.

I issued my command to face forward and not speak. I didn’t want to take the chance of her mask coming off and breaking the illusion. I didn’t want to hear a voice that wasn’t Verana’s. Maybe tonight would ease the ache—the frustration—and I could put her behind me.

I skated my fingers along the fabric where it stretched across her neck, dropping them to skim the black floral lace that spread along a single shoulder blade like it was reaching for her spine. Her muscles tensed when I dragged a single finger down each vertebra. She gasped when my hands spanned her hips. She was so small, my thumb dug into the ripe flesh of her ass at the same time my fingers pressed into the hollows of her hips. I couldn’t wait to hold her here in place as I fucked her hard.

Soon.

First, I wanted her panting and wet. I wanted to know if she tasted as delicious as she looked.

“Hold on to the railing,” I said against the hot skin of her neck.

With her fingers pressed to the cement, I jerked her hips back, forcing her to stumble a few steps back. Her back arched and presented her ass perfectly to me.

With the first press of my lips to her back, she arched more, searching to make contact. I worked my lips down as my fingers slowly inched the fitted skirt up. By the time I reached the base of her back, she could barely stand still, rocking side to side to help me move her dress higher while also causing friction between her legs.

“Don’t move,” I ordered again.

She nodded jerkily, and I dropped to my knees, skimming my hands up her firm legs. Her dress rested just below the cheeks of her ass, and I pushed my fingers under the fabric, shoving it up and over, baring every creamy inch to me.

She tensed, squeezing her thighs in modesty, and I groaned at her sweet scent that hit me.

Only a thin layer of black lace stood in my way, and I considered ripping them off, not wanting to wait a second to bury my tongue inside her, but I liked the tension threatening to snap between us. I wasn’t ready to give it up.

I took my time easing the delicate fabric down her legs, directing her to lift her leg to step out of them. Eyeing my prize, I shoved her panties into my suit pocket.

“Spread your legs.”

“What?” she gasped.

“I want to eat your pussy. Now let me.”

She took two tiny steps out, still hiding what I wanted. With a deep chuckle, I worked my palm back up her leg and gripped her firm ass, holding her steady as I knocked one foot wider. She stumbled in shock, and I slid my hand past her soft cheeks to press her back flat, forcing her to shove her ass in my face.