Innocent Obsession (The Dirty Kings of Vegas)

Maybe this is why people turn out the lights. Or do they? Is that another myth, a tale to keep us in the dark, literally? His fingers open the buttons on the front of my dress. His breath makes my tits quiver. My nipples are already hard, needy, eager.

He caresses my breast with his hand and I let out a groaning sigh of want.

“Which base is this?” he chuckles.

I whimper. “Give me a chance to catch my breath, then I’ll tell you.”

“Okay.” He puts me down on the bed. “Let me tell you something first.”

Already I miss being in his hands, having him hold me like I belonged to him. Being in his power. I’m feeling like all the strands of my life have come together at a cliff edge. This is the tipping point for my heart, my dreams, my body. My V-card.

The V-card doesn’t mean much, except I never found anyone worth giving it up for. Paul’s and my maybe-imaginary mystery man’s are the only spikes I’d ever consider pinning my butterfly on. And Paul is here.

He’s red-hot, pumped up, and he’s got muscles on his muscles. It really could happen. Up until the moment he sees what’s under my party dress. Then I know he’ll remember the phone number of a dancer or a model or some gorgeous actress.

That’s the great thing and the terrible thing about Las Vegas. This town is full of so much talent. Everywhere you look, you can find somebody gorgeous, somebody brilliant. It’s exciting. But it means a regular cake-loving girl like me has no chance to compete.

He says, “I’m a virgin, too.”

Well, that’s not what I thought he was going to say.

“Paul…” I can’t help jumping up to kiss him again. Each time has been better than the last. And each time I have felt hotter. Bolder. Needed more.

“You are so sweet.” The look in his eye is anything but sweet. And he has the body of a killer.

I whisper, “I know it can’t be true.” I kiss him again, but I’m knocked over by him saying that. “Really, that is so nice of you.”

“It’s not nice of me,” he says, his voice low. “It’s true. I swear.”

“Can I really believe you?”

“Always, Lucy.” The look in his eyes flashes through me like an electric shock. He holds my hand. “I will never tell you anything but the truth.”

“I believe you, Paul. I’m not even sure why, but I do trust you.”

I move to stand, but he seizes me. Kisses me so hard I’m burning. His hand is on my thigh. I move back, further up on the bed. I feel my eyebrows tilt up and I reach for him. He watches my thighs as they spread apart.

Kneeling before me, his fingers find me. I’m so wet it’s obscene. His finger traces between my lips. I’m on my back, but my body jolts as he presses up, pushing the wet fabric of my panties against my aching, swollen folds.

My eyes plead into his as his strong hand firmly drives upward, making me buzz and quake. My hand stretches out to reach for him. He won’t be deflected, though. His lip curls and his eyes glint.

I see his mouth headed straight for me. I shudder as he looks in my eyes and licks his lips. He shoves my panties aside.

I gasp and cry out, “Paul!” and his mouth takes me, my knees falling open.

His tongue is long and thick, and so strong. First he probes, nosing up between my fluttering walls, then he shoves in and lengthens inside me, exploring all my secret places. Making me shake when he touches me in places I hardly even know myself.

All the time his lips play with my clit and my hood. And his hands squeeze my breasts and my thighs. I gasp and moan as he tenderly nudges and prods at my ass. Sensitively, he finds my rhythms. He knows when to be soft to make me gasp. And he feels when to be rough, the time to be forceful and relentless.

His tongue and his fingers thrill and chase and tease me up to quivering, trembling plateaus. Then he holds me in suspense, waiting for the perfect moment, when I’m most open and exposed. And he drills me with his fingers, sucks and kisses me, and he keeps on as I gush and clench and shout and clamp his head in my thighs, drag my nails through his hair and push my pussy as hard as I can against his mouth.

The last detonation leaves me shaking and quivering. He keeps a hand on me as he comes up with a kiss and he holds me tenderly.

I search his eyes, amazed. “How can you do that to me?”

Even in my drowsy, disconnected state, my body knows what it wants. I pull him close and run my hands down his shirt. Down to the hot ridge in the front of his pants.