Sin (Vegas Nights 1)

“Don’t fucking challenge me on this, sweetheart, because you know as well as I do that I’ll win.”

“I don’t think so,” I whispered.

Lies, lies, lies.

He knew it, too.

“So, I could slip my hand between your legs and I wouldn’t find a wet pussy?” His lips brushed my ear. “I wouldn’t find your wet cunt half-ready to take my cock? Because your legs are clenched damn tight, and that tells me you’re hiding something.”

“It’s telling you wrong.” More lies. All lies.

Would he try to prove himself right?

I’d played with fire—was this where I got burned?

Damien swept one arm around my waist and pulled me on top of him. My squealed protest was fruitless. My hips were already nestled at his sides, and thanks to my dress rolling up as he’d moved me, my underwear was almost entirely exposed.

I glanced back at the partition.

“He can’t see you. It’s one-way.” Damien kept one hand on the back of my neck. The other slowly, oh-so-slowly, crept up my now-bare thigh, edging ever closer to where my clit was aching beneath the lace of my thong.

“What are you doing?” My mouth was dry. Why was it so dry? Why wasn’t I trying to get off him? Why was I letting him do this?

“Research,” he whispered, pulling my head down to his. He dragged his lips across my jaw at the very same time his fingers probed my upper thigh.

As his thumb brushed the edge of my thong.

I pushed at his shoulders, shoving my body back despite the fact my hips were going in the opposite direction—toward him. I simultaneously wanted and didn’t want his touch. I couldn’t think clearly—this man was my rival, my enemy, and here I was, sitting on his lap, inches away from his thick, hard cock, and about to let him see if I was as wet as he thought I was.

I’d lost my damn mind, but yet…I stayed.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I would give into my basic urges.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe this was my weakness.

Maybe he would turn out to be my weakness.

Eight

Damien

She shivered, her shaky exhale hot against my neck. My own breathing wasn’t exactly normal—it wasn’t shaky like hers, but it was fast, borderline uncontrolled. Just like my desire for her.

My hand inched closer to her wet pussy. I didn’t need to touch her to know she was wet, but I wanted to. I wanted to push her, see how far she’d go before she realized I was right.

She would give in to her body. She already was. It was betraying her with how it responded to me, but she wasn’t exactly fighting it. Her half-hearted attempt to get off me was just that—half-hearted.

She wanted this as much as I did in this moment. I wanted more. I wanted to free my cock and slip it inside her. She was right here on top of me after all. It would be easy. So fucking easy to fuck her wet little cunt until she screamed and told everyone inside and outside of this car what was going on.

Too easy.

Too. Easy.

I didn’t want her easily. I wanted her on the brink and ready to take things into her own hand. I wanted her hovering on the brink of an orgasm before I finally gave in and let her have it.

I wanted her to need me the way I wanted her to.

I was selfish and greedy, and I didn’t care one bit.

Dahlia swallowed. I brushed the backs of my fingers over the lace that covered the mound of skin just above her pussy. She took a sharp breath in, and her hips rocked¸ making my knuckles just ghost across the rough area where her clit was.

Wet.

I could feel it on the fabric.

“So much for not giving in,” I murmured in her ear, slipping two fingers beneath her thong. “You can feel that, Dahlia. You can feel how much you want me.”

She didn’t respond. Her bravado was gone now that I had full control.

I liked having her at my mercy.

I eased my fingers across her pussy. Its wetness made it easy, and I adjusted myself so I could touch her properly.

She dropped her forehead to the back of the seats when my fingers found their way inside her. Her muscles clenched around my fingers. I moved them in and out of her a few times, slowly, teasingly, until the tiniest whimper of a sound escaped her flattened lips.

“But you don’t want me,” I whispered into her hair. “Right, Dahlia? You don’t want to be sitting on top of me while I fuck your tight little cunt with my fingers, and you sure as hell don’t want to sit on my cock so I can fuck you properly, do you? You said that. You won’t give in easy.”

Brushing my lips down her jaw, I eased my fingers out of her and set her underwear straight again.