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"Tell me what you're thinking." He was finding it hard to think himself, or speak for that matter. Her eyes on his shaft stimulated him to the point where he knew if he stroked any harder or faster he'd shoot off like a geyser.
She shook her head but still focused on his cock. "I...I can't."
"Yes, you can," he urged in a low voice. "Tell me. I need to know what you're thinking."
Her voice seemed strained, tight, nearly breathless as she said, "You have a huge cock. It's beautiful. Long, really long, and thick."
He sucked in a breath at her words. "Are you thinking about how it would feel inside you?"
She whimpered. "Yes."
Her nipples were hard pebbles against her dress. Her breasts rose and fell quickly with her labored breaths.
"Do you want to touch yourself, Morgan?" he asked, pumping his shaft in a long, torturous stroke.
She hesitated, and her eyes met his. Desire glittered in the blue depths, so intense it made the ache between his legs throb with the need to plunge inside her.
"It's okay," he said. "No one's watching. Hell, everyone would expect you to do it."
She looked around the room as if she actually considered raising her dress and touching herself. Then she turned her gaze back at him, sucking in her lower lip. "I can't."
"Because you're the owner? You don't want people to see you?"
"I...yes, that's it."
Fuck. He wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. She devoured him with her eyes. Her body gave every aroused signal imaginable, and those signals went straight to his penis.
"I understand. Then watch me jack my cock until I come."
Her eyes darkened like a sudden storm and she licked her lips. "Yes," she said, her body shivering. "Do it."
That's all the encouragement he needed. He leaned back and stroked harder, faster, imagining it was her hand on his aching penis. He focused on her full lips and visualized them surrounding the head--licking, sucking and drawing him into the wet warmth of her mouth. The heat inside would be near unbearable. She'd take him deep, as deep as she could until his shaft pounded the back of her throat. Then he'd hold her head while he fucked her mouth hard.
"Oh, shit, I'm gonna come," he groaned. A hot jet of come let loose so hard it made him dizzy. He continued to pump until the last drop of white fluid had fallen. Morgan's gaze remained riveted to his penis as if she were in a trance.
He fought to regain control of his breathing. She still hadn't moved, one hand holding onto the velvet cushions and the other gripping the iron railing.
He'd come. She hadn't. It showed. Arousal brightened her tanned skin with a red blush. Her nipples were still erect, her breathing shallow and labored.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded and finally moved, letting loose of the railing and turning to face the orgy below. "Fine."
Tony stood and pulled up his shorts, amused at the telltale blush on Morgan's cheeks. It perplexed him how someone that ran a sex resort could blush at anything. "Did watching me jack off like that bother you?"
She turned to him. "No, I found it quite stimulating, actually."
"Then why didn't you join in? I can tell you need to get off."
She inhaled and let it out slowly. "I will. Just not here, and not now."
"I see. Later then, when you're at home?"
Her lips curved in a slight smile. "Why, do you want to listen in again?"
Chapter Four
Tony had been rendered speechless by her comment, Morgan recalled with a smile. The entire drive from the resort he hadn't said a word. He hadn't denied that he'd listened last night, either. So, she'd been right, she'd had an audience last night.
And now, over dinner, he remained all but mute. Which unnerved her a great deal. He hadn't even asked any questions for the article--and really, wasn't that the whole point of his being here in the first place?
"You're quiet tonight," she said, watching as he peeled another shrimp and popped it into his mouth.
"I was hungry," he said with a mouthful.
"Obviously." She gazed over at the plate where more than a dozen and a half empty shrimp shells were piled. He finally leaned back in the chair and took a drink of wine.
"You were pretty silent yourself," he said.
"I was?" She hadn't realized that, but now that she thought about it, he was right. Maybe her silence was a response to his. She certainly didn't want to volunteer any information. If he wanted to know something, she figured he'd ask.
They'd both effectively skirted the issue of her comment about him listening in last night. Clearly, neither of them wanted to bring it up again. Morgan sighed, not at all sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, she was appalled at herself for her lack of awareness. There had been another person in the house when she went about screaming her bloody head off in ecstasy last night. On the other hand, the thought of him listening excited her. Really excited her. More than it should, considering what it all meant.
"Something on your mind?"
She looked up and shook her head. "No, not at all."
"I think we're both avoiding a discussion about something."
"About what?"
He inhaled and leaned back in the chair, giving her a delicious view of his naked chest. Great pecs, a light dusting of dark hair, broad, muscular shoulders. He was exactly the type of man she went for. Correction--used to go for.
"About last night. About what you did, what I saw and heard."
Morgan sat up straight. "Saw? You watched me?"
He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. Couldn't help it. Those sounds you made drove me crazy. I wanted the visual to go with them, so I stepped outside and watched you through the window."
Panic slammed against her chest. What had he seen? What position had she been lying in? Then she remembered and released the breath she'd been holding. She'd been lying on h
er back. He hadn't seen the scars. "I see."
"How do you feel about that?" he asked, seemingly unapologetic that he'd been spying on her most private act.
How did she feel about it? She should be furious with him. She'd brought him into her home and the first night he invaded her privacy? Then again, she hadn't been quiet. But what difference should that make? It was her damn house and if she wanted to masturbate in the middle of the living room it was her right to do so. "I don't really know how I feel about it."
"Pissed off?" he offered.
"Yes."
"Violated?"
"Yes."
"Excited?"
She paused, not expecting him to be so forward. But wasn't Tony the type of man she used to like? A real man, one who took what he wanted and made no apologies for it afterward? Was she subconsciously throwing out signals to him? And how honest should she be with him? After all, the thought of him watching, though shocking, was also incredibly erotic.
"Maybe."
"Wanna know what I think?" he asked, grinning.
"Would it matter if I said no?"
"Probably not."
"Then by all means, tell me."
He poured more wine for both of them. "I think you're an incredibly sexual woman. Your body, your mannerisms, and especially your eyes, are windows into that sexuality."
"How so?"
"You have a way of carrying yourself that's sexy as hell. Dignified, but with a lazy sway to your hips that sends off 'come fuck me' signals. Your eyes travel over me as if you literally want to eat me alive, and unless I'm totally off base, I'd say you haven't had a man in awhile. A long while."
She took a quick swallow of wine to moisten her suddenly dry throat. "Why would you think I haven't had a man in awhile?"
His eyes blazed hot and dark. "You look hungry."
Morgan sucked in a breath and tried not to be thrilled at Tony's words. They didn't mean anything. He wasn't sexy, and she damn sure was not getting excited. Yeah, right.
"I'm sitting here wondering why a woman like you with so much potent sexuality is so repressed."
She lifted her brows. "Repressed?"
"Yeah. Because you sure as hell put out sexy signals, but to the casual observer you're as cold as the waters off the North Pole."
