Page 39 of Watch Me

She melts.

With a gentle nip and a soothing kiss to cover the sting, I pull back and whisper, “We have an audience.”

Releasing her, I walk a half circle around her and cozy up to her back, letting her feel the heat of my body. She gasps.

The curve of her neck beckons, and I trail my lips up the graceful line and soft skin.

Briefly, I open my eyes and discover at least twenty-five people in the room—and more filing in. Perfect. Maybe we’ll catch this blackmailing asshole tonight.

Then I put everything out of my mind—except Shanna.

I start at her shoulders, but my hands develop a mind of their own. Down they plunge, right over the curves of her breasts, pushed up by the tight corset. But having those nipples covered isn’t going to do.

In a few seconds, I brush through the little fastenings holding the garment together. It falls to the stage in a boned rustle of fabric.

Men groan in the audience as I bare her breasts to them. Shanna tenses. I can feel her shivering. Cold? I don’t think so. Nerves? Maybe. Excitement. Definitely. I can already smell a hint of her arousal.

Eagerly, I reach around and cup her breasts in my hands, squeezing her nipples between my thumbs and fingers. She writhes, wriggling her ass against me.

With a yank, I drag the sheer thong from her body. Another collective groan rings from the audience. Guys shift their weight from one foot to another, adjust themselves in their pants, sit forward in their chairs. Shanna begins to pant.

I drag my palms down her abdomen. I itch to feel the silk of her pussy, gauge just how wet she is.

Moments later, I have my answer. She’s wet, welcoming, lush. Shanna might lie about her feelings for me, but her body can’t.

Now is the perfect time to start testing my theory…

A quick point at Del brings my friend up on the stage. Shanna tenses again. This time, I don’t think it’s due to excitement.

Before she can say a word, I whisper, “I want to watch your breasts be sucked. Del will help us out.”

“No,” she whimpers.

“You change partners all the time. Why does it matter?”

Del approaches her and presses his body close to Shanna’s. I don’t say a word, just lift her breasts up to him.

Just before he bends to her, Del sends her a smile that says he’s ready for scorching hot sex.

“It just matters,” she whispers. “Please no.”

Lifting dark eyes to me, Del waits for a cue.

I have what I want for now. I shake my head.

With a wry grin, Del contents himself by placing a chaste kiss on the curve of her breast. But to show he isn’t going to be dismissed, he takes a seat on a nearby pillow and sends a sizzling stare her way.

In truth, I know we have to play along, just in case our blackmailer is in the room. But I want nothing more than to get Shanna alone.Soon,I promise myself.

Turning her toward me, I see her stage smile collapse. She looks at me with a mixture of hurt, anger, and relief. Apparently, swapping partners does matter to her. And the sooner I get her to admit that about dance, the sooner she’ll settle into having one man in her life.

Impatient to touch her, I tear down the zipper of my leather pants and free my stiff cock. “Suck me.”

I kick a pillow under her knees. Shanna hesitates, then sinks down, bends her head, and consumes me.

Oh, hell. Her mouth is a silken oven, soft and scorching and robbing me of breath. She damn sure knows what to do with that tongue of hers, caressing the length of my staff, curling it around the head. She sucks deep and hard, all the way to the back of her throat.

My heartbeat rattles in my chest. My ears buzz with excitement. Faintly, I’m aware of male groans and a “fuck, yeah,” from the audience. But focusing beyond Shanna’s hot mouth is growing impossible.

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