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“Lacey,” she admits after a time. “I’m Lacey.”
“And, just so we’re clear, I’m not going to fuck you until you’re begging for it, Lacey.” When her eyes widen, I smirk. Although I desperately want her, I don’t force women to accept me. I don’t have to.
She gulps and a flush creeps up her neck. It’s clear the idea of fucking me turns her on too. She certainly sucked my cock without any kind of hesitation, the same cock that’s now hard and ready to make good on my lie to Stefan.
“I need to contact my partner and update him, since you destroyed my earpiece.”
“We’re lucky it wasn’t seen. You can once we get someplace safe.”
I type out another text, and within thirty seconds, the driver is pushing into the front seat. The vehicle roars to life, heat pouring out of the vents.
“Are we able to talk here?” She eyes the driver seated on the other side of the privacy divider skeptically.
“Don’t worry about him. He’s been trained to wear noise canceling headphones, and we always keep the divider up unless called for. He can’t hear us.”
Which gives me an idea…
CHAPTER7
Lacey
“Iwant you to lean over the back of the middle row.” The seriousness on Marco’s face has my stomach jumping with anticipation. “Keep your front half facing the trunk and that delectable ass toward me.” He presses a button on the side and says to the driver, “Take us to the Marriott on third, please.”
I stare at Marco for a long moment as the heat belting out of the vents slowly thaws the chill in my blood. “Are you kidding me? I’m not going to do that.”
The look in his eyes says he’s anything but kidding, and once again, I’m back in that storage room. Only now, the buzz from the champagne has turned into the hum of desire, of want and need. I’m back against the wall with his mouth on mine while he glides his fingers along the line of my panties, kissing me with such abandon so that I’ve completely forgotten we have an audience watching our every move.
The thin thong barely offered any resistance to him, and the barest twitch would have had the fabric gone—skin against skin, his callouses sliding against my wet, aching flesh.
Marco sees the change that comes over my face and twirls his finger in the air, gesturing for me to assume the new position.
A thrill runs through me. Lacey Matthews would never, but Natasha… She most definitely would be more reckless and listen to her baser instincts, like sucking an underground crime lord’s dick during a Christmas party.
Maybe I’m taking my fake identity too far, but whatever is happening between us, I don’t want it to stop. Not yet. Not when I’m aching for him.
I finally shift onto my side, then my knees, reaching back toward the middle of the rear seat with my arms gripping the headrests on either side.
This is not me, and yet, it could be, with the right partner.
Marco shifts until he’s behind me, pushing the dress up to my waist. “This ass is fucking perfect. A thong.” He groans at the sight. “I should have fucking known. And you’ve gone with black lace.”
“Do you like it?”
He trails his massive hands along my ass, my legs, my thighs, my hips, squeezing and probing and stroking. Each touch has my head spiraling up to the clouds. My breath catches in my throat when he grips my ass and spreads the cheeks further apart.
“Best view in the fucking city. You’re gorgeous.”
This is fantasy territory, the things the smutty romance novels I read are made of.
Finally, Marco adjusts the tiny straps of the thong to the side and bends until his mouth is level with my throbbing pussy. The first flick of his tongue almost has me screaming and lurching forward.
He moves his mouth over my core, feasting on me, nibbling at my pussy lips before he slides his tongue across my hole and toward my clit. He pushes the thong aside further, but he pauses there, using a finger to tease my ass. I twitch at the contact.
“I don’t—” I start to warn, because I’ve never done that kind of stuff before, but then I groan when he twists his tongue in tight circles over my clit. I’m completely at his mercy. He can do whatever he wants with me, however he wants.
“Soon, but not yet,” he mutters against me before latching onto my clit again, torturing me with his mouth. I buck against him and gasp. “Maybe you’d like to be a good girl and come on my tongue.”
God. For him, I will be.
