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“Yes,” I mumble the breathy word as I nod. He increases the friction of the fingers grinding over my G-spot and I come hard, squeezing violently hard around his hand as I fight to remain silent.
“Don’t stop, kitten.” Grant’s voice is deep and demanding. “You owe me two more. Ride my fucking hand and take them like the greedy whore you are.”
Fuck…
My thighs tremble, and his words shoot straight to my core, bringing me quickly over the edge.
“You get so fucking wet when I call you a whore,” he gravelly whispers in my ear. “Do you want to be used like a whore?”
Yes...
“Getting fucked in all of your tight little holes at once?”
Yes…
But…
“Coming over and over,” he whispers, and I can’t deny how much the idea turns me on.
…even with how poorly it ended last time.
“A thick cock, filling that tight little cunt. And your mouth sucking another diligently as I stretch your ass with mine,” he continues in my ear as I ride his hand so hard it’s as though I’m trying to take his fist inside me. “Is that what you want, kitten?”
“Yes!” The word explodes from my mouth as I come again.
CHAPTER
FORTY
DETECTIVE MICHALES
“Turn left in one-hundred feet.” The computerized guide of the GPS speaks over the music playing through the speakers of the car.
I see the restaurant when I make the left-hand turn. Pulling into the valet at Nikolai’s, I quickly realize that I am completely out of my element. My pickup truck stands out like a sore thumb between the luxury sports cars and sedans.
“Can I help you, sir?” the valet questions as I open my door.
“I have a reservation, Mic—” I cut myself off realizing I was about to provide the wrong name. “Carrington. Party of two.”
He eyes my truck and my attire. While I pulled out and dusted off a suit for tonight, it looks like I pulled it off the rack from a discount box store in comparison to the other men walking inside.
“Listen, bud.” I channel the pretentiousness I hate from each of the wealthy assholes in Adelaide Cove. “I got stuck in fuckingtraffic and my date is already inside. If you like your job even the slightest, you don’t want me calling Nikolai to let him know how fucking incompetent you are.”
“Please, sir. There is no need for that,” He opens my door wider to allow me ample room to climb from the truck. “Please head inside and you will promptly be taken to your table.”
“Mr. Carrington.” A beautiful, well-dressed brunette approaches the moment I enter with a beaming smile. “Sorry to hear about the traffic, but glad you could make it. Let me take you to table.”
Walking through the restaurant, I slow slightly as we approach a table for two with a petite blonde sitting with her back to me.
“Your table, Mr. Carrington.” She smiles and continues past the table.
Taking my seat, the blonde across from me is undoubtedly the one from a few nights ago—the one I’ve watched countless times on the video for details.
She eyes me over with slight confusion, a polite smile spreads across her face before she speaks. “I think there might be a misunderstanding. I am meeting a Mr. James Carrington. They must have sat you at the wrong table.”
“I’m at the right table, Nikki,” I reply and watch her eyes widen.
She grabs her clutch from the table and is about to stand when I roughly grab her wrist and hold her to the table. Pulling my phone from my pocket with my free hand, I pull up the video of her foursome and press play.
