Page 47 of The Vampire Kingpin
I waited until she was putting yet another dress on Lark and adjusted my dick. The saleswoman didn’t see, but Lark pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
I glowered back at her.
The current choice was a deep, purply red with a high neck that encircled Lark’s throat like a collar. A diamond cutout dipped between her breasts, and another, smaller diamond opened over her mid-back. At her hips, the dress flared into a short, pleated skirt over a black gauze slip. The slip was tighter and designed to peek beneath the skirt, an edgy touch that was perfect for Lark.
“Do a little shimmy,” said the saleswoman, and when Lark complied, the pleats changed from red to purple and back again.
Lark’s eyes widened. She shook her hips again. “Wow. That’s so freaking cool. What d’you think?” she asked, meeting my eyes in the mirror.
I raked my gaze over her again. She stilled, then, very slowly, lifted her arms and raised her hair from her shoulders. The position outlined her body against the mirror, her breasts and ass thrust out. I waited until she released her hair, letting the black strands sift onto her shoulders, then took another sip of whiskey.
“That one,” I told the saleswoman. “Wrap it up—and close the door on your way out.”
The woman’s thin dark brows arched knowingly. “Very good, sir.”
She helped Lark out of the dress and draped it on a hanger. Then she gathered up the other dresses while I waited impatiently. At last the door closed behind her.
“Lock it,” I told Lark.
She complied, her round ass swaying like a porn star’s in the thong, and turned back to me.
I put my whiskey glass on the floor and came to my feet, spinning the chair to face the mirrors. “Bend over the chair.”
She sauntered the few steps between us and fingered my lapel. “Yes, sir,” she said in a dead-on imitation of the saleswoman’s New York accent. “Whatever you say, sir.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me.
I turned her around and lightly smacked her ass. “Now, Lark.”
She bent over the chair, her palms on the seat. Without my asking, she widened her legs. “Like this?”
“Such a bad girl,” I murmured as I slid my finger down the thong and between her cheeks. “You’re soaked,” I said, fingering her through the material. “You liked teasing me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” Her beautiful green eyes smoldered at me in the middle mirror. “I’m such a bad girl. I guess you’ll have to spank me.”
I cupped her mound. “If you want that salesperson hearing you begging me to stop…”
I should’ve known she’d see my dare and raise me one. “How d’you know I wouldn’t be begging you for more—harder?” she added on a whisper.
I gave her a firm tap right over her clit. “You are in so much trouble,” I returned in an undertone. “But I’m not gonna spank you here. In fact, if you can’t be quiet, I’ll stop. Nobody gets to hear those sounds you make except me.”
“I can be quiet.” She started to pull down the thong but I stopped her.
“Leave it for now.”
I rose back up so I could undo my belt buckle and dress pants. Lark was watching me in the mirror, so I gave her a show. Pushing down my pants and boxers but leaving them around my thighs. Fisting my dick and slowly stroking up and down. Running my thumb around the cap and lubricating myself with the pre-cum.
Her eyes darkened. Resting her weight on a forearm, she slid her free hand into her thong. Her salty, musky perfume filled my nostrils, and I heard the slickness as she moved her fingers in and out of her pussy.
I covered her with my body and cupped her tits. I toyed with her nipples, my gaze locked on the view of my hands in the mirror, tugging and playing the tight, rosy points.
“So damn sexy,” I said next to her ear. “But can you be a good girl for me?”
A stifled moan escaped her closed lips, and I pinched a nipple. “What did I say about making noise?”
She squirmed, her bottom brushing over my erection. “I’m trying,” she rasped.
“Try harder,” I told her sternly, removing my hands from her breasts. “I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed.”
She drew a jagged inhale and dropped her voice to an almost-whisper. “Please don’t stop. I’ll be quiet—I promise.”
