Money Shot (68 page)

“Yes,” I said, in a breathy voice that was almost lost to the background noise. I wished I had sounded more certain. Maybe things would have been different somehow. I guess I’ll never know. In response his smile was devilishly sexy and he reached across the table for my arm and held his finger to my wrist where he would be able to feel the racing of my pulse.

“Good girl. Now, take off your panties.” I gasped again and glanced around at the people sitting at the tables nearest us. My hesitation annoyed him and he pushed against my ankles again, demandingly. “Don’t think,” he said, and because he willed it, I did it. He smiled as he watched me push the edges of my knickers down through the fabric of my skirt and his eyes flashed dark and hungry. As I wriggled from side to side the movement rubbed up against my already sensitized flesh. When my panties were finally past the hem of my skirt I pulled my knees together and followed them down with my hand until they were over my shoes and balled in my fist. The wetness in them left a cool trail down my legs as shameful evidence of my arousal. I looked up at him and watched as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. I imagined that tongue stroking against my skin. Innocent places first like the soft spot where collar bone meets neck, just below my ear lobe and maybe the underside of my wrist that he had caressed with his finger, then moving on to teasing licks around my nipples and over my clit. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.

He put his hand on the table, palm upturned, and I gave the lacy thong to him, trying to conceal what I was doing from anyone who was close enough to notice. He slipped them into his jacket pocket. “Something for me to remember you,” he said with one raised eyebrow and I realized that each step was a challenge, a little push to see if I wanted to be on the journey with him and if I would play his games.

“What’s your room number?” he asked, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hesitate to tell him. Playing with a man while in the safe surroundings of a bar was one thing but taking that game into the privacy of a hotel room was another. I looked up into his eyes, the thud of my heart so hard in my chest it was like a drum, my thoughts flicking between agreement and resistance. Then, in a flash of impulsivity, I slid my key card across the table. He took it as though he’d had no doubts I would give it to him, and stood, waiting for me to get up too. I put my phone in my bag, all the time thinking
oh my God, am I doing this, am I really doing this,
feeling giddy with the wrongness of it and the rightness. As I slid out of the booth he had to reach out to steady me as I wobbled on my heels. Maybe he thought I was drunk or maybe he already knew that my knees were weak with desire and anticipation.

My stranger didn’t hold my hand like a lover but instead rested his heavy palm against the small of my back to steer me out of the bar and to the lift. His touch was firm and so hot through the cotton fabric of my blouse that I was torn between the urge to pull away and fierce desire to press back against him. I was delirious and he was in control, hitting the call button, keeping his hand against me as we waited, tantalizing me with the tips of his fingers which moved to caress my bottom. The lifts were at the back of reception so anyone coming in through the main doors would have been able to see what he was doing but something about the slow rhythm of his movements and how good they felt prevented me from stopping him. I was trembling as I watched the numbers counting down towards us, panting with anticipation.

The doors opened.

We stepped inside and I leant against the wall needing the solid surface to prop me up. When the doors closed he moved quickly to cup my face, using his thumb to stroke against my lips until they parted. I couldn’t stop myself from running my tongue against his skin and taking it into my mouth. He tasted salty, delicious, and his eyes were wicked with intent. When he smiled and stepped closer using his other hand to stroke slowly up the outside of my thigh I couldn’t hold in the moan that had been bursting to get out of me since he had spread my legs in a crowded bar. The material of my skirt bunched up against his arm and when his hand cupped the bottom of my ass and squeezed, I bit down on his thumb and he jumped from the pain and laughed.

“Doors opening,” the lift announced and the stranger disentangled himself from me and steered me out into the corridor. The journey to my room seemed longer than it had earlier, and he put his hand against the back of my neck so I would keep up with his pace. He was tall, a few inches over six foot and so broad that I felt tiny and fragile next to him.

At the door he used my key card to gain entry and he put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the handle before closing it and locking it. He turned to me, first just to look me over as if he was deciding exactly what he was going to do to me. Then he surprised me by reached out to loosen my ponytail, allowing my dark hair to tumble down my back. “You’re beautiful,” my stranger said before stroking the sleek length from root to tip, twirling a soft tendril between his fingers. “Your hair, your skin, these freckles…so innocent.” I took a step back as he ran a finger down the slope of my nose. He stepped in closer and I smelt rich whisky on his breath, the scent of an expensive fragrance and his warm skin. “Are you innocent?” he asked, breathing the words directly into my ear.

I shook my head, eyes wide, looking to gauge if he was disappointed but he didn’t seem to be. He pushed me so I was pressed against the wall, and leant down to brush his lips across mine, so gently it was like a whisper. I couldn’t breathe as I waited for him to kiss me again and when he didn’t I opened my eyes to find him gazing at me waiting.

“Not innocent then but…sad.”

It was a strange thing to say at a moment when we were both being driven by our physical urges rather than our emotions. Or maybe that wasn’t true, at least for me. My body craved his but my mind was looking for something too. A balm for the sadness he could see and an opportunity to let go of feelings I had buried and were slowly eating away at me. Taking him to my room was a way of me saying a big ‘fuck you’ to Jonathan and the negativity and deceit he had brought into my life.

My stranger’s hands found the buttons of my blouse and he undid them all, drawing the fabric apart and easing it over my shoulders so it slipped to the floor. I stood with my hands at my sides as he ran his fingers lightly down the side of my throat and across my collar bone. He teased me with his touch following the line of my pink lacy bra, his eyes never leaving mine, holding me captive while he worked to make my body shake. His fingers slipped under the lace until they found the hard point of my nipple and squeezed it, gentle at first and then harder until I cried out.

“Look at your perfect little tits,” he whispered, leaning down to flick my now bare nipple with the hot point of his tongue. “So white, so soft…so sweet.” I could feel the wetness slipping out of my pussy and I squirmed as his every touch made me ready for what was to come. “And your nipple, so small and pink and hard.” He took it between his teeth and bit down viciously enough for me to cry out. His mouth left my breast wet, moving to kiss me again harder and more demanding, his tongue mimicking the action I imagined his cock would make later. I moaned involuntarily and felt him smile against my mouth as if he had been seeking my reactions as evidence of his success. His hand squeezed my breast, the other pushing me to the wall and so he could press his rock hard erection against my hip.

“You’re like a doll,” he said against my cheek. “Like a porcelain doll. So pristine.” His hand shifted now, moving down the bared skin of my sides, until they clasped at my waist. “Your body’s perfect,” he murmured into my mouth and the sentiment made me want to touch him. I only managed to run my hands down his back and around until they were under his suit jacket before he grabbed my elbows and lowered my arms to my sides again. “Faultlessly perfect…it makes me want to mark you with my teeth, to fuck you so hard that your pussy’s red raw.”

He pulled back again, to look into my eyes and maneuvered me until I was resting against the console table. “I want to make you come so hard you won’t even know where you are. Sit down,” he said, already pushing me back and drawing my feet up to rest on the edge.

As I looked down at his hands rested on my knees I could see myself trembling but it was as though I was looking down at someone else’s body. I was outside myself from the lust I was feeling and the desperate need to be filled, both physically and emotionally. He gently parted my legs, moving my black skirt up my thighs until there was nothing between his eyes and my pussy. I went to draw my legs together, embarrassed to be on show but he held them firmly and pushed them wider until I felt myself open in front of him, the most intimate part of my body on display for this stranger.

“So pink,” he said, licking over his bottom lip. I couldn’t stay still while he moved his hand, using one finger to stroke down over my clit and to the outside of my opening, drawing the wetness that was there to lubricate his journey. The slowness of his touch was exquisite torture, like the tickle of a feather, and I rested my hands behind me for stability. His finger continued to move, slowly, deliberately, until I could feel more wetness slipping out. Even though I was scared, all I wanted was for him to penetrate me and block everything with sensation.

As if understanding from my moans what I wanted, he pushed first one finger in, then two, then three until I clenched my muscles around him and he pumped them in and out, pressing the sensitive spot inside me. “Fuck,” I said, spreading my knees even further, opening myself totally. He pressed his thumb against my swollen clit, delicate pressure which brought me closer to the orgasm I wanted so desperately. And then he pulled his hand away leaving me gasping.

When I opened my eyes I watched him lick his fingers that were glistening wet from being inside me. “You taste as sweet as I imagined. Now get up.” I moved to stand, my legs weak with desire, and reached to unbuckle his belt. He grabbed my hands and pulled them away. “Take off your clothes,” he said and stepped back to watch me, slipping off his own jacket and tie, then unbuttoning his shirt. I reached behind me to unhook my bra and took my time pushing the straps down over my arm, relishing the dark look in his eyes as he watched. My nipples were so hard they made my small breasts look round and high.

He slipped off his shirt and I marveled at his physique; toned shoulders and chest meeting a firm stomach and those lines of muscle at the sides that pointed down inside the waistband of his trousers. I’d never seen such a beautiful body in the flesh, just in magazines and on the front of my favorite saucy romance books. My hands itched to touch but he was a stranger and it seemed as though he wanted to lead what was happening between us. In a way I was happy to follow because, honestly, I had lost my confidence since discovering what Jonathan had been up to on the side. It’s hard to feel sexy when you find out your boyfriend went looking for satisfaction elsewhere.

“Your skirt,” he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed to slip off his shoes and socks and unbuckle his belt. I unzipped but held the waistband for a couple of seconds before leaving it to fall around my ankles. Stepping out of it was like casting off my old self and leaving behind her restrictions and morality. And then I was standing in front of him naked, feeling more vulnerable and aroused than I ever had before. I knew nothing about this man other than what I could see and he had such control over my mind and body that I felt like a yoyo dangling from his finger; one tug would be all it would take to hold me in his palm. He reached for me with one hand, grasping my hip and pulling me until I was close enough for him to kiss my belly. His tongue licked across my skin, leaving a hot and then cold trail as it passed; a delicious and maddening sensation.

I ran my fingers through his hair, needing the contact with him to steady me and groaned as his hands squeezed my ass. With a quick movement he stood and pushed me round so I fell onto the bed and grabbed my ankles to spread my legs so he could crawl up between them. Kneeling, he looked at me lying open and ready for him before he bent his head to kiss the inside of my thighs. I could feel his hot breath moving closer and closer to where I wanted him to be, his stubble grazing my leg sent shivers through me. When he finally reached my pussy he gently kissed my clit and inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of pussy,” he breathed against me and my hips bucked to meet his mouth. He rose up and used his fingers to gently spread my labia, and watched as my clit swelled and poked out from under its little hood, seeking his tongue, the press of his fingers, anything to give it relief. “I can see how much you want this,” he said, stroking downwards until his fingers were coated in my arousal. “I can see how turned on you are by the idea of fucking a stranger.” His eyes met mine with a spark of electricity. “You haven’t even asked my name, have you? You like this anonymous, so you can give in to whatever you want without feeling anything tomorrow. You want me to control you so you won’t feel any guilt about opening your legs for a man that you might not recognize later on the street.”

“No,” I said, ashamed at the truth of his words, trying to pull my legs together but he held them open.