There’s something else Marisse doesn’t realize about Gourmande—my father’s real estate company has a stake in the upscale restaurant. I could have it shut down for the day if I wanted to.
Her nerves faded away when she thought I wasn’t watching. A smile spread on her gorgeous face, and she networked like the professional she is. Every last asshole seated at that table took notice.
The prick from Channel 8 most of all. He chatted her up like he was two seconds away from inviting her to dinner like Blackman. He probably would’ve if I hadn’t interjected with a push of the button.
A territorial impulse on my part.
I grinned as she shuddered in her seat and became incapable of conversation. The Channel 8 prick reluctantly moved on and everybody else at the table became preoccupied too.
Marisse was able to sit in paralyzed, pleasured silence as the vibrator buzzed away.
…until somebody heard the sound of it.
I had barked out a laugh at the distraction she had come up with. Resourceful and quick-thinking just like she was.
As I drag her out into the garden, I relish the afterglow about her face. Her honey-colored skin has a dew about it, like she’s flushed from the heat. Her dark, almond-shaped eyes lack focus, and her toned legs wobble with half their usual strength.
This woman is minutes off what was an intense orgasm.
I bring her up against the wall of the restaurant in a pocket beside a statue. It’s the perfect cover as I hold her where she is and hike her dress up her to hips.
“I bet you’re fucking drenched, aren’t you, Sugar? Hope you saved a drop for me. I want to know what that uptight little pussy tastes like.”
She whimpers as I shuck her panties down her thighs and palm her sensitive, swollen pussy. Drenched is right.
I groan at how wet I find her. Even the little egg is slick with her juices. I drop a hot kiss on her lips as I rub her clit.
“You came, Sugar,” I taunt. “I don’t remember that being part of the rules.”
“Please… Rafe… this is…” she gasps. “This is ridiculous. Anyone can see us.”
“I know. And I don’t fucking care. Remember how there’s no going back?” I hold her against the wall, both wrists in one hand, and I grope her breasts with the other. I shove aside the neckline of her dress and the cups of her bra and give her left nipple a sharp twist.
Her full tits are on display, nipples dark and stiff, just how I like them.
Marisse shivers against my warm fingers exploring her. I rub her slick clit and hover my mouth over hers, telling her about how she’s my filthy talented slut.
“Look at you panting for more, Sugar,” I say, licking at her lips. “You’re in the garden at a work event with your panties on the fucking floor.”
Her mouth gapes wider as more pleasure hits.
I play with her ’til she’s on the edge like she was at the table. She’s squirming against the wall as I touch her soft, wet pussy. Seconds away from giving in and letting go.
So fucking beautiful, I’m mesmerized.
She’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. She’s pressed up against the stone wall with her head tipped back. Her thick red curls frame her flushed face. Her eyes are squeezed shut while her pouty lips have fallen open and her entire body trembles against me.
I’ve hooked two fingers inside her. I’ve learned how to drive her to the edge of pleasure and then work her up all over again. Her nails sink into my skin and her pussy walls clench around me.
My dick throbs inside my pants, thick and aroused.
I’d like nothing more than to say fuck it and take her right here. Right in the fucking garden of the Gourmande.
For a crazed second, I almost do. She’s already given into the passion charged in the air. She’s shut out the possibility that anybody could walk out and find us in the middle of fooling around.
Except nobody’s wandering out onto this garden anytime soon.
But Marisse doesn’t need to know that. It’s fun watching her squirm, making her think she could be seen at any moment. She gets off on the danger of it all.