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Silence. Nothing but the trickling of water from the pond out back coming in through an open hallway window.
I was just about to keep on walking when the sound came again. Not just a sound, a quiet moan, and it jolted through me and went straight to my cock.
It came again, but even while my cock hardened, it wasn’t just horny as fuck I felt. Something hot and uncomfortable twisted in my gut.
She moaned again, and I took a step toward the door.
It wasn’t Deo in there with her. In public, they put on a good show, but behind closed doors, there was something very platonic about their relationship. And if not Deo, then it had to be one of the slimy fuckers from Domínguez’s party. I could still see them all surrounding her, and my hands clenched into fists, wondering which one was in there with her.
Whichever one it was, I felt the potent urge to beat the shit out of him, and then fuck Greta in every hole she had, claiming every part of her as mine.
Her moans grew louder, and my cock got harder, throbbing in time with my heartbeat. When I’d sucked on her nipple last night, her cheeks had flushed and her plump lips had parted like an invitation.
Is that what she looked like now?
I leaned my head against her door, listening like a fucking horny teenager.
There was no thudding of the headboard against the wall, no mattress springs squeaking, no pounding against the wall like he was fucking her up against it. Nothing. How good could this fucking guy be?
Good enough to make her moan even louder, it seemed. Maybe he wasn’t fucking her; maybe he had his fingers in her pussy, hitting her G-spot with every stroke. Or maybe it was his mouth on her clit that was driving her higher while he tugged lightly on the sexy as hell gemstone ring with his teeth.
More moans; I swear I could hear her breath coming hard and fast.
When she screamed, it came out muffled, like she’d buried her face in the pillows or pressed her mouth hard against the fucker’s shoulder. I guess that depended on whether he had her on her back or on her stomach. Or maybe on all fours with her ass thrust high in the air.
I closed my eyes; I could see her, smell her, taste her. I don’t think my cock had ever been so hard, and I wasn’t even the one fucking her.
The villa was quiet again, nothing but the water trickling outside, but there was no fucking way I’d be able to sleep now.
I leaned away from the damn door and headed back downstairs. There was a cupboard of liquor in the kitchen. Hopefully, it wasn’t filled with tropical shit. A regular, old whiskey—or three or four—sounded like a pretty damn good idea at the moment.
I opened the cupboard and pulled out the bottle of Jack I found there and grabbed a glass from the next cupboard over. I’d just filled the glass half-full when a door opened upstairs and quiet footsteps padded down the steps.
From my vantage point at the kitchen island, I could see halfway up the stairs, so I saw her before she’d reached the bottom landing, dressed in a short, silky robe. She’d only tied it loosely, revealing a deep V between her breasts, right down to her ribs. And even more notable, she was alone.
She’d barely crossed the threshold into the kitchen when she saw me and stopped dead in her tracks. Heat sparked in her eyes as they roamed over me. Apparently, sex with one of Domínguez’s men had left her unsatisfied.
She licked her lips, then looked away after a moment and headed for the fridge.
“Can’t sleep,darling?” she teased as she grabbed a bottle of water from the top shelf.
“Something like that.”
As she opened the bottle’s lid and gulped it back, I wondered just how hard her nipples would get if I grabbed the bottle and dribbled the cold water over her full tits.
But instead of doingthat,I looked over at the stairway, waiting to see one of Domínguez’s men, but that’s when it hit me—if my cock hadn’t been running the show, it probably would have hit me sooner. But Greta would never have brought an outsider into the villa, not when Gabe’s presence here needed to be kept a secret.
And that meant there was no man in Greta’s room; there’d never been a man in Greta’s room. She’d been in there alone.
Standing outside the door, I hadn’t been listening to some slimy prick fucking her. I’d been listening to her getting herself off.
In one, violent second, all the blood in my body drained to my cock. It actually made me lightheaded. The hand she had wrapped around the water bottle now had just been on her body. Inside it? I wondered. Had she rubbed her clit until she screamed, or had she gone for her G-spot? The images of both bombarded me, better than any porn I’d ever seen.
She screwed the lid back on the bottle and set it down on the counter, looking up at me, eyebrow cocked.
“Something I can do for you?” she asked, and I didn’t miss the playful note in her voice. I had no doubt the girl was ready to play.
And I could think of at least a hundred things she could do for me. Finger herself, suck my cock, bend over and take every inch of me in her sweet ass, to name a few.
