Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Chloe was coming, hard, screaming as the stranger between her legs pistoned harder against her. I’d seen her in the BDSM lounge before, and the machine room; she lived for rough sex, and the man between her thighs was certainly giving it to her.
Leif, on the other hand, kept things slow and easy. When Charlotte gasped in pain and said, “Far enough,” he never pushed farther, using my hand as a guide. I had only two fingers wrapped around him now, sliding in a tight ring that was aided by Charlotte’s copious wetness. Leif moved one hand beneath her. I knew he found what he’d been looking for when Charlotte moaned and her shoulders sagged, her head dropping to the table.
It didn’t interfere with the betting at all; everyone had stopped to watch.
“They’re all looking at you,” I told her. “They’re all watching you get fucked.”
She shivered and raised her head, her gaze moving around the table to meet those of all the players and companions eyeing her with amusement and lust. That would be enough, I knew. That acknowledgment that she was on display, being fucked in front of everyone, a spectacle for public consumption. She slapped her hands down on the felt and rose up on the balls of her feet, right out of her heels.
“Fuck, it’s so good!” she shouted, putting on a show for them. “It’s so fucking big!”
“Come for me,” Leif growled, bending low over her back. “Let me feel this tight little cunt come all around me.”
With a high, keening wail, she did, her entire body jolting like she’d been touched with a live wire.
Her audience applauded.
Leif pulled out gently and my cock throbbed at the sight of Charlotte’s stretched, gaping pussy. I couldn’t help myself, sliding two fingers into her as she twitched and gasped, struggling to recover.
“This was lovely, thank you.” Leif removed the condom and tossed it in the bin. “You’ll forgive me for not finishing, but the night is young, and I am not.”
I got his drift. “Thank you for attending my party.”
“And thank you for your generous hospitality,” he said with his charming smile that could almost have been classified as a smirk, if his eyes weren’t so friendly. “Do look us up, if you’re ever in the Hamptons?”
“Absolutely,” I said, with a pang of desire that warned I might not ever be truly sexually satisfied if I never managed to get my mouth on that dick.
I didn’t often find myself in the Hamptons, but now I’d have an excuse to try out beach house life.
Charlotte straightened, wobbling in her heels, and I put my arm around her to help her stand. “Um…thank you?” she laughed, blushing and keeping her eyes lowered as she addressed Leif. Like she couldn’t look directly at him in her moment of post-orgasm clarity. “That was…unreal.”
“So I’ve been told.” Leif halted and turned to watch as the stranger beneath his wife’s legs gripped the top of the chair and gave one last, hard shove, grunting and sagging over her. Leif turned back and said, “Enjoy your party.”
“Mr. Ashe?”
I turned at the sound of my assistant’s voice. Miranda was dressed, as always, in all-business fashion. Tonight, she was in charge of making sure the party ran smoothly. I wasn’t sure she’d ever indulged in anything other than work here on the island. Administration seemed to be her kink.
“Miranda,” I acknowledged her.
“The official birthday celebration is starting in minutes. If you wanted to be a part of that?” Her arched brow indicated that yes, I should be a part of it.
“Yes, I’m on the way,” I promised, still holding Charlotte up. “We’ll make our way there.”
“We have you seated on the stage, rather than in your box,” Miranda explained as we left the gaming floor. “Birthday boy, and all.”
“Thank you for feeding my ego.” It was funny because it was absolute truth. To Charlotte, I said, low, “I can’t wait for everyone to see you.”
“I can’t wait to have feeling back in my thighs,” she muttered, but her smile broke through her pretend petulance. “That guy was—”
“I know!” I whispered, laughing, and we followed Miranda out.
The theater was done up with more balloons, towering bunches that reached the ceiling on either side of the proscenium. The wide steps that ran the width of the stage were bisected with a red carpet that led up to an ornate black throne with red leather upholstery. The floor was crowded with guests, and as we crossed the room a smattering of applause grew into full-on cheers.
An announcer in the DJ booth egged them on. “Esteemed guests of Ascend Red, please welcome your host, the owner of Ascend Red, Matthew Ashe!”
That was a bit much. Miranda must have added that touch. As we negotiated the shallow steps, he went on, “Please join all of us here at Ascend Red in wishing Mr. Ashe a very happy birthday.”