King of Diamonds (Vegas Underground 1)

My heart shoots into my throat.

Tacone saunters in and his gaze takes in the housekeeping cart, then swivels around to see me. The moment our eyes connect, a jolt of pure electricity zaps me where I stand.

There’s satisfaction in Tacone’s small smirk, and dark promise in his eyes.

He stalks toward me. “I did warn you what would happen if you came back, right?” His voice is rough, hungry.

I hold his gaze. “You warned me.”

He reaches me, shaking his head. “You asked for it.” He picks me up by the waist and plops me on the barstool that cozies up to the breakfast bar. I reach for his belt, but he grabs my wrist.

“Nuh uh. I’m in charge, baby. I decide when and how I’m gonna fuck you. Whether I’m going to satisfy my fantasy of bending you over that housekeeping cart, or make you put those pigtails back in your hair and take you in the shower.” He slides his palms up my bare legs, pushing the skirt of my housekeeping dress up as he goes. When his thumbs reach my panties, he slides them lightly over the gusset, teasing me.

My pussy squeezes around air. I grab his arms to keep from falling back.

“That’s right, sugar. You hang on tight. Because this time I‘m not holding back.”

The sound that comes out of my throat is unrecognizable.

He brushes his knuckle over my clit, barely making contact, driving me crazy. “Did you bring this pussy to me to get fucked? You knew I wouldn’t let her go empty this time, didn’t you?”

It’s dirty and crude, but God help me, I love it. Lord, if Tanner had ever talked to me this way, I would’ve laughed in his face. But Tacone pulls it off because he oozes sexual confidence.

My head wobbles as I nod.

That’s what brought me back here. I want another Nico Tacone orgasm. I just have to remember to keep my head about me and not let my heart get involved. And to avoid witnessing anything illegal that could put me in danger.

Yeah, I’m stupid. I’m a horny little idiot who’s certain this is going to be the best lay of my life.

He tucks a thumb under the gusset of my panties. “Mmm hmm. You’re wet for me, aren’t you?” I guess I’m readier than I’ve ever been, because he slips his thumb right in me without any preparation needed. He groans, his lids drooping. “Bambina…I’ve been thinking about this pussy every minute of the day since the day I first caught you here.” He holds me around my waist, tipping me back and pumps his thumb. “Whole casino full of pussy, but I only want this one.”

My head falls back. I’m balanced on my tailbone, arched over his arm, my upper body kept up by my grip on his forearms.

“And this is why. You’re so fucking inviting. So receptive.” His face contorts as if it pains him not to be inside me.

I squirm, wanting to take him deeper, get more friction. His thumb is not enough.

“Greedy girl. You want me to fuck you good?”

“Yes, please.”

He gives a pained bark of laughter. “And you fucking say please. Every time. Sweetest girl I’ve ever had.” He withdraws his thumb and pulls me off the barstool. “Turn around, bambi.”

I whirl and put my forearms on the barstool, pushing my ass out. He yanks my panties down and then off before he slaps my ass.

I never thought I’d be into pain, but after that spanking he gave me last time, I’m not just ready for it, I crave it. He slaps my ass again, and again. Each time is a shock of pain, a splash of pleasure. I’m drowning in sensation, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of lust and desire.

“Please,” I whimper.

He gives a sharp curse. “Push your ass out, beautiful.”

My ass is already out, but I try to arch even more. I hear the snap of a condom wrapper and I wait as he rolls on protection. He rubs the head of his cock along my slit.

I push back at him, trying to get him inside me. I can’t stand another second of this teasing. I need satisfaction.

He pushes into me with a hard thrust and the barstool tips and rights again. “Fuck.” He pulls out and I nearly weep. I must’ve whimpered, because he soothes me. “It’s okay, bambi. Lay over the arm of the sofa here. I need to fuck you way harder than I can here.”

I toddle to the sofa and he pushes me over the arm and slaps my ass again.

“You look so goddamn perfect with my handprints on your ass, Sondra Simonson.”

I don’t know why he always says my first and last name, but I love it. It makes me feel like someone famous. A movie star or a superhero. As promised, he plows into me so deep I cry out.