Page 109 of High Roller

“Well, of course I do. How could I not?”

Victor leans forward and takes the laptop from Grace. “What do you say, butterfly? Do you want to let Lili have a taste of you?”

“Is that OK with you? Grace whispers.

Victor cups her face and puts his forehead against hers. “I wouldn’t have offered it if it weren’t, Mariposa. Now answer the question.”

“Yes, Sir. I want to.”

Victor stands and shoves the ottoman out of the way, then goes to stand behind the couch.

“Don’t let her come,” he says as I move to kneel on the floor in front of Grace.

Grace whimpers and Victor pulls her hair. “Are you complaining?”

“No, Sir,” she gasps.

“Good. Now offer your cunt to Lili like a good little slut.”

I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven when Grace lifts her hips and looks at me with pleading eyes.

“Such a good girl for your Master,” I murmur as I stare into her eyes and trail my hands up her thighs.

I don’t want to delay my first taste, but she’s trembling, and all signs point to nerves.

“Are you sure this is OK?” I ask before I move my hands higher.

She smiles at me with a shy grin. “It’s more than OK. I’m just a little nervous.”

Victor tightens his grip on her hair and pulls her head back so she’s looking at him.

“Eyes on me, butterfly. I’ve got you. Lili’s going to make you feel so good for me. I want to watch your face as she pushes you to the edge with her tongue.”

Grace quivers, and I take it as my signal to ramp things up. I trail one finger between her folds, then settle against her clit, circling it slowly.

Her hips thrust forward in invitation, and I can’t resist the urge to taste any longer. I dip my head and let my tongue drag along her wet slit. The taste of a woman on my tongue is something I’ve rarely enjoyed, but Grace is by far my favorite. It’s not that romance novel peach taste, that shit’s not real. Grace tastes real. Tangy, musky, a hint of sweet that says she’s well hydrated. And I’m fucking addicted. Now I understand the feral look in Victor’s eyes any time he’s around her.

Grace whimpers because I’ve stopped short of her clit to savor the taste. I lift my head and grin. “Need something sweet girl?”

She nods, panting. “Please, Lili?”

Victor growls. “Good girl,” and gives me a terse nod.

The restraint has been lifted. I don’t hold back. Between Grace’s thighs, I feel like a damn Goddess. And I decide if we ever play with power exchange that’s what she’ll call me.

I suckle her clit between my teeth and slide two fingers into her drenched channel. She immediately grips me like a vice, and I can tell she’s on the edge already.

“You better fucking ask, butterfly, or you’ll wind up bent over the couch with a red ass.”

“Fuck!” She cries out. “Please can I come?”

“Good girl,” he croons. “Yes, you may come. Once. But Lili’s not done with you yet. And you’re going to beg for every ounce of pleasure until she is.”

Grace trembles as I increase the pressure on her clit and curl my fingers inside her. The flood of arousal as she creams on my fingers fuels my own desire, and I’m determined to leave her ragged and empty before I let her up.

“Oh, Victor,” I murmur, lifting my head to give her a small reprieve. “How you don’t live on your knees between her thighs is a mystery to me.”

“Well, spitfire,” he says, staring down at me, still holding a handful of Grace’s hair, “Not all of us are fortunate enough to be able to stay home with her all day.”

---