Page 16 of Midnight Whispers

I gently move them back and forth over the seam of his lips, acting like a desperate cat.

God, I’d do just about anything for him to open his mouth and wrap his lips around my nipple. They’re so hard it’s almost painful.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he stays in the same position with his arms splayed and watches me intently.

I want to beg him to do it. Do something, anything. Touch me, fondle me, fuck me. Something.

I’m not a virgin, and I’m no angel, that’s for sure. I’ve fooled around with men in the VIP rooms before, but I don’t cross the line of getting paid to do so. Men can pay for me to dance for them, and I’ll shove my naked tits in their face, but I’ve never accepted money for sexual favors, though I don’t judge the girls who do. We’re all just doing our best and doing whatever it takes to survive.

I’m only physical with a man because I find him attractive and because I want to mess around with him. I know I’m looking for affection in all the wrong places—case in point, none of these men have ever even bothered to give me an orgasm. It’s all about their pleasure when they’re in here. But for just a moment, I can pretend I’m in a loving relationship, that someone desires and needs me, no matter how hollow I’m going to feel afterward.

I stand and turn around again, arching my ass out and easing myself across his lap.

When I lean back against him, he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and whispers, “Hook your legs on the outside of mine.”

His voice is a rough rumble in my ear. It’s what I assume is a bedroom voice. The kind that makes you want him to spit out a string of dirty words.

I do as he asks even though it’ll be much harder for me to move this way.

“Now touch yourself, princess.” I startle, stilling, and he bites my earlobe. “Come on now, be a good princess and touch yourself. We’re going to make you come.”

It’s the “we” part of that statement that gets me to comply.

I bring my hand between my legs and center my fingers over my G-string where my clit is, sucking in a breath when I make contact.

Seconds later, his big warm hand covers mine. The pressure is light at first as he moves my fingers in a circular motion. When he increases the pressure, I tense, my legs automatically trying to close, but he stretches his legs, not allowing me to.

Gradually, he increases the pressure and the pace. My breasts rock as I thrust my hips into our hands. Unable to take the ache, I bring my free hand up and cup my breast. Nero growls in my ear, and I feel the rumble in his chest behind me as I tweak my nipple.

Then his hips thrust up underneath me as though he’s fucking me while his hand forces mine to rub my clit faster. My body grows more and more tense, and my legs strain against his, wanting to close, but he refuses to allow it. With my heart beating like a war drum, my body tingles, and the sensation grows stronger, unstoppable.

“I’m going to come.”

“That’s my girl,” he says into my ear.

And even though I’m not his girl and never will be, those three words send me over the edge. I cry out, jerking in his lap as my orgasm washes over me.

He keeps moving his hand over mine, slowing the pace and the pressure until he stops altogether and pulls it away. I want to cry out for him to return his hand to where it was, but I’m still catching my breath and trying to make sense of what happened. I just let my stepsister’s ex-fiancé give me the best orgasm ever.

The worst part is, I don’t feel bad about it. No, everything about what happened feels oddly right, and I don’t know what to do with that realization.

Chapter

Eight

NERO

Igrip Cin by the waist and set her to the side of me, then stand. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my wallet and drop a wad of cash onto the table, then I adjust my rock-hard cock with a grimace. It’s so in need of relief that it’s painful.

“Thanks for the lap dance.” Without waiting for her to respond or looking at her, I make my way to the door and walk down the hallway.

I had to get out of there because what just happened is only going to fuel my obsession with her. And that’s not good. I’m already stalking most of her movements. I can’t afford for this to become more than it already is.

I promised my brothers in high school that I wouldn’t go there again. The last thing I need to do is give them an excuse to think they need to coddle me.

Shaking the memory from my head, I push out the main door of the club and suck in a breath of fresh air once I’m outside.

Jesus fuck, that woman is phenomenal. Perfect in every way.

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