Ace of Hearts (Vegas Underground 3)

I want to return the favor this time. When he removes his fingers, I launch at him, attempting to push him to his back. Of course, I’m half his size, so he just catches me and fills his hands with my ass, kneading and squeezing. I shove again, and he gets the idea. “You want to drive, baby?” He falls back, an indulgent expression on his face. I’m thrilled when I watch it fall away to bald hunger as I free his erection.

I may not have that much sexual experience, but I have given a lot of head. Since I didn’t love intercourse—well, I guess I now know it’s just missionary position I hate—I made up for it with blow jobs. Anyway, Jake said I was amazing, although he’s just one guy. I grip the base of Tony’s cock and watch it surge toward my mouth.

Right now, I’m feeling wild and abandoned, and ever-so-grateful. I show it with generous licks around the head, a long slow dip into the pocket of my cheek.

Tony’s thighs are rock hard, his cock even stiffer. I suck the silk-wrapped granite of his length, loving the grunts and harsh breaths I draw from him. He fists my hair and releases it, then fists it again, like he’s having to hold back from taking over. From forcing me to take him deep into my throat.

I know he was worried about me hurting my vocal chords by giving head, which I think is very sweet, but pretty unlikely. Of course, I don’t know how rough he usually likes it. Maybe he’s the shove it down your throat until you can’t breathe type. And that shouldn’t turn me on, but it does. My pussy clenches on air and I suck harder, bob my head over his cock faster. I slide my hand in concert with my mouth to take up the length that doesn’t fit.

I squeeze his balls, run my fingertip along the vertical line in the middle of his sac. He makes an urgent sound. I rub my finger over his perineum—the place between his balls and anus—and his balls tighten up.

I hum and he thrusts up into my mouth. “S-stop it,” he tries to order, but he’s clearly lost all authority. I pump fast with my hand and my mouth as he takes my hair in both fists and tugs. “I’m coming,” he warns me.

I pop off and fist his cock. He shouts as I pump my fist and let him come all over my breasts. I would swallow, but honestly, sometimes it does give me a sore throat and he has me playing it safe.

He sits up and pulls me to straddle his lap, rubbing his spunk across my breasts, up to my shoulder with the butterfly tattoo. I run my nails across his hairy chest, admiring his hulking physique.

I want to talk now. To lie on our backs and share secrets. In this moment, I hate the limitation of not speaking.

“You okay?”

I smile and nod.

He gets up and takes me by the hand to the bathroom, where he lifts me to the counter and cleans me up with a washcloth. I watch him move, his huge body graceful and sure. “Now what?” he asks. “Want to get into more trouble?”

I grin and nod.

Tony

I want to DJ at your club. Pepper beams at me like her face is lit by a 1000 watt bulb. She just burst in my office after I left her a couple hours ago to rest up for the evening and is holding her notepad up for me to read.

For the last three days she’s let me show her all over Vegas.

Hugh’s still hanging around; I guess he doesn’t exactly consider himself fired. I would throw him out, but I think his nuts should still be on the line for the money, so I figure I’ll let him stay here like the scared little rabbit, sweating the money and her shows and having no control over how it’s gonna go.

Her parents started calling yesterday, even though she texted that she can’t talk. I gather they disagree with her decision to axe Hugh.

I took her to see Sondra’s art gallery, the giant Ferris wheel, Cirque du Soleil, Penn and Teller. I’ve also fucked her every chance I can get—before we go out, after we get back. In fact, I had her bent over the arm of the couch before I left her last.

Now we’re full circle, with her bursting into my office, looking like sex on a stick.

She’s in a triangle-shaped halter, or whatever the scraps of fabric that tie in the back are called. She’s wearing a black mini-skirt—emphasis on the mini—and the requisite Doc Martens on the bottom, and despite the fact that my cock has already been in her three times today, I’m ready for another round.