Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)
“What are you doing?” I shake my head.
“Imagining.”
I raise a brow. “Imagining what?”
“How those tits are going to look around my cock tonight while I fuck them.”
My mouth drops open in shock.
He smiles a slow and sexy smile. “You were safer with the other guy.”
My eyes hold his. I have no words.
“Because, unlike him, I will get you to do what I want. And tonight I want to fuck those big juicy tits of yours.”
My brain misfires as I get a visual of him naked above me, sliding his cock between my… Woah. It’s been too long.
“T-that’s not happening,” I stammer.
He shuffles around in his suit jacket pocket and pulls out a fifty dollar note. “Do you want to place a bet on that?”
“What an over confident prick you are.” I shake my head. Never have I had such a cheap pick up line used on me. “And yes…” I snatch the fifty dollars from his hand. “I will bet fifty dollars on you not getting your cock between my boobs tonight.”
He winks and clinks his glass with mine as he raises a sexy brow. “Thank you. I will take that as a personal challenge.”
I shake my head as I sip my drink. “Does that ridiculous pick up line work on many women?”
He smiles and winks cheekily. “You would be surprised.”
I smirk. There is something extremely honest about this guy. He isn’t pretending to be someone he’s not.
It’s disarming.
His hand drops to my behind again, and he rubs it as he smiles to himself, looking me up and down.
I raise a brow. “You can stop looking at me like I’m your next fuck. There will be no physical activity between us tonight. I’m not that
kind of girl.”
He leans over and kisses me again. “Stop talking.” He smiles against my lips. “You are only making the challenge so much sweeter
for me. I am a goal orientated man, you know.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” I reply sarcastically.
“Blossom, do you really think I couldn’t make you happy as my wife if that were my intention?” He raises his brow.
I laugh out loud. “Shut up, you freak. Who says this shit and gets away with it?”
He laughs out loud as his hands drop to my behind again.
Two hours and six cocktails later…
The sight of his huge cock sliding between my breasts is driving me crazy. We’re back in his room, unable to control our mutual attraction, acting like animals. This is casual sex at its absolute finest. This guy is gorgeous, intelligent, funny, and sexy as fuck.
Not to mention he’s hung like a bloody horse. I’ve died and gone to Vegas Heaven. His knees are on either side of my body as he kneels over me. Large, dark brown eyes stare down at me, and I arch my back, unable to hold the urge to fuck. How did he get me here, doing this?
I’m not this kind of girl, but holy hell, he makes being bad so much damn fun.