Whipped (Hitched #2)(13)

He leans in again, and I feel his hard-on press against me.

"See anything you like?" he asks.

"There was a delicious looking steak on the menu at the restaurant we went to."

He shakes his head, still smiling. "I worry about your priorities."

"Oh, sex is high up there. Just not with you."

He falls back as if wounded, then keeps dancing close to me. "I understand. You're like a virgin." I nearly choke at that, but he keeps talking. "You just don't know what you're missing. Yet."

That 'yet' hovers in the air as I'm escorted back to my seat to watch the rest of the show.

After the show we are all still stuck to our seats as the rest of the women in the audience swarm the stage.

"Oh, Vi, this is horrible," Tate says. "Whenever I think of you now, I see things. Terrible things."

Kacie laughs. "I think you owe him therapy."

"They're not even fully naked," I argue.

Tate just shakes his head. "My mind fills in the blanks."

So does mine. God, so does mine. Especially since I can still feel the way his cock pressed between my legs. Hard. Throbbing. Ready.

I'm ready to get out of there, to get some air and some clarity and, most importantly, some distance. Instead, one of the dancers blocks our escape and escorts us back stage. "Lachlan said you're friends of his and deserve the VIP treatment. Follow me."

I try to resist but Kacie and Zoe are having none of it, and even Tate seems intent on torturing me. "It's payback, my dear," he whispers into my ear. "You must face this man."

I'm breathless by the time Lachlan finds us. My friends have all been wooed away by tables of food, glasses of champagne and scantily clad sexy men.

I get pulled into Lachlan's dressing room, which he locks behind him.

He's still wearing just the…I don't know, loincloth? His body glistens with oil and sweat and makes his muscles ripple under the light. His blond hair is a wild halo of lust around his perfect face, framing every desire I have for him.

Every desire I want to resist.

"We have to talk," I say.

He grabs me and pulls me to him, our bodies pressed against each other. "Not with words," he says against my ear lobe. "Body language is better."

And I can't deny him. Part of me wants to. And though I'd like to blame it on the champagne that is already fuzzing my brain, I know this craving for him predated the alcohol.

So when he pulls up my skirt and runs his hands over my body with barely contained urgency, I don't resist.

And when he pushes me against the wall and spreads my legs with his hard thighs, I don't pull away. No, instead I lean into him and eagerly take in everything he gives me, moaning as his finger pulls aside my underwear and teases my clit.

"I need you, Vi," he says as he pushes his finger into me while rubbing the swollen nub.

It is more than I imagined. More than my dildo could ever hope to replicate. More than my mind could conceive. The scent of his body so close, the feel of his hard muscles holding me. His finger inside of me, filling me with one, then two, finding every spot of pleasure.

I don't think. Don't analyze the pros and cons. I don't let myself consider that I'm not in control. That this shouldn't be happening. I give into the sensation of leaving behind everything but the here and now of this man pressed against me.

His mouth is on mine, our tongues teasing each other. He tastes like mint. Like madness and magic and I imagine that tongue on other places on my body.

It doesn't take long for my orgasm to build, and just before it breaks inside of me, he pulls out his finger. I moan, disappointed, empty, and he smiles, slides a condom onto his cock and lifts me off the ground, his hands under my ass, holding me against his body. He presses me against the wall and I wrap my legs around him as he shoves his cock deep into me.

He's huge. Thick and long and I worry he'll tear me, but with a few more pumps he's stretched me into taking him all the way and as his fingers dig into my ass and my nails dig into his bag, he f*cks me harder than I've ever been f*cked before.

I bite his neck and hear him groan and f*ck harder.

He dominates me and as I come on his cock and he explodes inside me, I realize how much I love it and want it and need it.

Someone knocks on the dressing room door, breaking the magic between us and reminding me where I am and who I'm with. I pull out of Lach's arms as he releases my legs, but standing proves a bit precarious as I'm still wobbly from two orgasms in the space of ten minutes.

Lachlan hands me my panties. "Next time you'll get the all-night treatment."

Next time?

Oh, hell no.

But I don't have time to respond because someone is shouting through the door. "Yo, Lach, time to party. Get your ass out here."

I squeeze past him, pulling myself together, and fling open the door to face one of the dancers in his group.

Lachlan comes up behind me and places his hand on my lower back. "Vi, this is Duke. Duke, Vi."

Duke raises an eyebrow. "I see why you didn't want to hang with us. I wouldn't either."

I push past him, leaving the warmth of Lach's hand. "Nice to meet you."

I don't stay to chat, instead I make my way through the hall until I find my friends. "It's time to go," I tell them. Tate is about to argue but Kacie takes a good look at me, gives him the twin stare and they nod in unison. Zoe's flirting with one of the dancers but pulls herself away when Tate taps her shoulder.