Stanton Bliss(21)

My eyes close.

We stay still, normal and uninteresting to the outside world, but feeling absolute perfection on the inside.

“Natasha.” His breath stutters. “You feel so f*cking good around my cock, baby.”

Usher’s sexy voice calls out as a cloud of arousal hangs heavily over me. I can’t see, I can’t think. I can only feel the large thick muscle that is deep inside my body, throbbing, begging to be f*cked hard.

“This cock is yours. Work for it,” he whispers.

My eyes close. Oh, dear god.

“Milk me.”

I squeeze him hard and we both groan silently.

“I can’t move. You need to milk me.” He bites my ear.

I clench.

“Harder,” he groans softly into my ear.

Oh, f*cking hell. My head drops down and I start to slowly clench in a rhythm. His breathing picks up and his hand starts to grip my hipbone with force. He’s close, I can feel him swelling inside of me.

We keep going and going and, God, I would give anything for him to throw me across the table and f*ck me hard.

My body starts to shudder and I squeeze hard.

One, two, three clenches, and I double over onto the table as he comes in a rush. We stay still, both panting, both lost to our arousal, totally lost to each other.

I sit back and lean my head against his chest as I try to control my breathing, perspiration kissing my skin.

He kisses the side of my face gently and wraps his arms around me and holds me close.

“I should come to the bar with you more often.” I smile into his chin.

He smiles deviously. “Don’t you mean come at the bar more often.”

I giggle loudly and he quickly pulls out and rearranges us both. He picks me up and stands. I turn and face him and his open lips linger on mine.

He looks up as his eyes glance around.

“What are you looking for?”

“A bathroom. My wife needs a clean up.”



Joshua sits at the other end of our table, his dark eyes fixed on me. After our foreplay at the bar two hours ago, my man is ready to f*ck and f*ck hard. He signals to the door discretely with his chin.

I nod. “Ten minutes,” I mouth.

My eyes wander around again, finding Adrian. “What do you reckon they are talking about?” I whisper to him.

He raises his eyebrows. “Honestly?”

“Yep.” I drain my glass.

“I reckon Brock is telling her how many ways he is going to f*ck her tonight.”

My lip curls up in disgust. “I was thinking that, too.”

We both sit and watch Abbie and Brock deep in conversation as they sit on the next table. My best friend and my brother. God, it’s like a bad romance novel on crack.

I shake my head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Abbie. But my brother? Seriously?”

Adrian sips his drink and shrugs. “Well, it’s not like either of them is going to get hurt. That’s got to be a plus.”

I frown. “I don’t want Brock getting attached.”

Adrian smiles brightly. “I hate to break it to you, but your brother is one of the most sexually dominant men I know. He’s not the one getting hurt.”

I screw up my face in disgust. “Do you think?”

He raises his eyebrows. “I know it. I’ve seen him in action.”

My face falls. “When?”

“A few times we have been out and here over the last week. Him and Cameron have been carving up.”

My eyes roam over to Cameron in the corner. He’s with two gorgeous Spanish girls. My guess is he wants both of them but will take one if its not offered. I’m surrounded by sex maniac players.

I drag my hand down my face in disgust. My eyes flick to Ben who is now openly furious at Bridget.

“What do you reckon is going to happen here?”

Adrian watches Didge dirty dancing on the dance floor. “She’s going to sleep with that guy.”

“No.” I frown. “Really?”

He shrugs. “She’s not wired like us two.Why the hell not?”

I nod. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Bridget comes stumbling through the club with her German on her arm. She’s tipsy and smiling like an idiot. My eyes assess her companion. He is ridiculously masculine.

“Hello.” He smiles.

I fake a smile in return and widen my eyes at Adrian.

Adrian mouths the words, “Oh my f*cking god.” He licks his finger to signify smoking hot.

She bends over to retrieve her bag from the other side of the table and his hand slides down and cups her behind. He squeezes it, whispers something in her ear and she laughs.

His hands come around her from behind and drop to her hipbones and then lower.

“Get your f*cking hands off her.” Ben growls.

Our eyes all snap to Ben. Shit. He stands next to us like the incredible hulk. Steam is practically shooting from his ears and his jaw is ticking in anger.

We look back to Bridget in horror. Oh no.

“Guard Natasha Ben and keep your eyes off me.” She sneers sarcastically.

She turns and leans up on her toes. “Lets go home, baby,” she says to her German.

My face drops in horror.

He smiles deviously and grabs her behind again.

Adrian’s and my horrified eyes meet, oh my f*cking god. I look around in a panic and see Brock and Joshua both stand at the possible impending fight.