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“No… I really can’t. We have rules, you see? I can’t have you unless all of us can have you. And that means everyone has to say yes.”
Her brow furrows. “Seriously? So… wait. Seriously?”
“Serious as a heart attack,” I reply.
I think I’m about to have a heart attack, just to prove it.
“But you can finger me?”
I nod. It’s kind of a gray area, I hope.
She smirks and tips her head, looking me over from top to bottom.
“And it seems like I can suck you off? That’s allowed?”
I swallow hard, then nod again.
“Can you also… eat my pussy?”
Before I know what I’m doing, I am across the room, her knees in my hands, dragging her toward the end of the bed. She laughs with delight and flops back, letting me bury my face against that sweet, musky slit.
Her panties are made of something flimsy and tear in my hands. I rip them away, starving for her taste. As my tongue plunges between her sweet lips, I begin slurping down that nectar. I need it so much, I hear myself moaning against her like an animal.
With her thighs clamped over my ears I bury my face in her hot, eager pussy, lavishing her with my tongue, flickering over that tiny pink pearl, drinking her until I’m full.
But when she comes, there’s more. It’s a gush, a deluge. She screams with pleasure and claws at the silken duvet.
As soon as she’s done, I want to start again. I’m not sure how I will ever get enough of her. I back away, watching her limp form relaxing on the bed as sleep overtakes her again. She’s so trusting, she’s alrea
dy lightly snoring.
And my cock is so hard, I’m never going to make it to my room. I slip into her bathroom and silently close the door, already reaching into my trousers to find my dick ready to explode. Pulling it out, I barely have to stroke myself before I am coming, spurting a fireworks display into the toilet. Breathless and panting, I lean against the wall, coming and coming, waiting for my heartbeat to go back to a regular level.
It seems to take forever to exhaust my supply of spunk. But even when I know I’m done, I know I’m not satisfied. I need more of her already.
I need Spencer and Sully to sign off. I’m going to make that happen.
Chapter 7
Sully
Detroit was half a disaster until I threatened to pull out of the city entirely. Without a flagship luxury hotel of our caliber, Detroit would suffer. They’re already on the brink of lapsing back into utter poverty again. They can’t afford to lose any name brands.
But it’s good to see Chicago again. Now that I’ve got a win under my belt from the casino guys, I can talk to Royce about expanding our gaming here and abroad. Hotels have been very good to us, and casinos are a natural extension.
That’s my opinion, but Royce has always thought differently. He feels it’s vulgar entertainment. The hotel business itself, on the other hand, is elegant and refined. But once you put that hotel on top of a twenty-five-thousand-square-foot gaming floor filled with slot machines and carnival lights, it’s a little less dignified.
I see his point, but I have my eye on that next billion dollars. I’m always looking for that.
The driver navigates the Hummer through lunchtime traffic congestion, expertly maneuvering among the throngs of pedestrians and taxi drivers. Now that Uber and Lyft have also taken a hold of Chicago livery services, there are a bunch of novice drivers trying to get to the Magnificent Mile.
It’s really pretty dangerous. Driving down here is not for newbies. The streets are congested to begin with, and then there are literally thousands of pedestrians milling around in the crosswalks at the same time. It’s a wonder anybody survives the day.
But after some careful navigation, we’re back at home base. The center of our operations: the Worth Hotel on Michigan Avenue. Right in the heart of the city, right where everyone wants to be.
I don’t usually walk through the foyer, but I know the driver intends to get the Hummer serviced so he drops me off in front of the doorman.
“Good morning, Mr. Worth,” he says, tipping his old-fashioned hat.
