Eight – Opal
Ian. He was here again and his gaze had never strayed from me. My stomach was now a bubbling mess. I shouldn’t have eaten as heavily as I had. The deep fried egg rolls were not sitting well.
I lowered my lashes, giving the bidders who were browsing a lazy-lidded look. Ian was seated on a crushed velvet settee, a tumbler of whiskey or scotch in his hand, his leg crossed nonchalantly over the other. Beside him was the same man who’d shadowed him last night. Mark Wahlberg double. Ex-cop. I’d bet money on it. He moved like a cop, his eyes darting around the lounge as if scoping out any potential problems. There were few issues here. Once in a great while someone came in drunk or high and got rowdy. They were handled with quiet efficiency.
Knowing he was watching, I reached down to rub my ankle, the black satin robe covering me slithering off my legs, baring me to the hip. I was careful to not show dick. That was only to be seen by my bidder for the night. Ian’s nostrils flared. My balls began to ache with need. What the hell was it about that one man that made me so hard, so flighty, so giddy? I couldn’t look away from Ian, no matter how I knew I should.
Men walked around me, dabbing at their damp brows, judging me, deciding if they wanted to pay for the “exotic” one. I rolled my head to peer around a fat man in a striped blue suit. Ian lifted his glass to me. My dinner flipped over. My pulse skipped. The first bidding bell chimed. The room grew quiet as the lights shining on us dimmed. Security arrived, two massive men with skin the color of charcoal briquettes, and I rose from my low chaise, head down, and lifted the flowing robe up a few inches. Dark pink toenails flashed at me as I climbed the thickly carpeted stairs. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Ian’s gaze lingered on me. I hoped it did. Then I cursed myself for hoping.
Onyx moved past me as I waited for my door to be opened. He looked wan, his eyes lacking life. I went to touch him, just to pat his arm. Security Man #1, aka Maximus, knocked my hand aside and gave me a small shove into my suite. I whirled around to protest but the door was already closed.
The second bidding bell would chime soon. The incense burned behind the changing screen. I rubbed at my nose then hurried to freshen up. New lipstick and eyeliner, a touch of mascara, powder to my chest, legs, neck, and ass, and a squirt of a new body spray that promised a passionate night in an erotic garden. The scent of jasmine, African orange flower, and orchid warmed on my skin and I nodded. Perfect.
I was exiting the bathroom when he entered, escorted by Max. I swallowed down the gasp of pleasure seeing Ian striding to me had caused. The door was barely shut before he had me in his arms, his face buried in my throat.
“You smell sinful,” he growled, nuzzling up under my jaw, inhaling deeply then exhaling across my lips. His gaze traveled over my face. I gave him a shy smile. He returned it then gently kissed the corner of my mouth. “I think you’ve bewitched me. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but you all day.”
“I thought of you, as well,” I confessed. His shy smile grew wider, then he scooped me off my feet, swung me around, and then carried me to the bed. He placed me on the covers as if I were made of hand-blown glass. With a swift movement he untied my robe, slid his fingers under the slippery sides, and bared me. I let my lashes flutter downward. His hands settled on my stomach then moved down to my hips. He kicked off his shoes. I pulled at the slim silver tie he wore, yanking the knot free then pulling it out from under his collar.
“I want you,” he said, his voice thick and gruff.
“Then take me,” I replied, working at tugging his black shirt free from his trousers.
“God, you’re beautiful.” He lowered his lips to my chest, sucking a pink nipple into his mouth. My dick was hard as iron. Ian ran his tongue around the tiny peak, tugging on it with his teeth. I wiggled and giggled, gasped and groaned, legs scissoring as he paid each nipple loving attention.
“Mm, oh, shit, hurry Ian, get inside me.” The plea rolled out unbidden. The need this man stirred up in me was frightening. Yet as fear pumped through me, so did lust. He kissed my navel, loudly, making me tremble. Then he freed his cock, pulling it through his zipper, and I lost what little control I’d been trying to maintain. I fucking loved men in ten thousand dollars suits with their cocks hanging out. I wanted to take his fat dick in my mouth, suck him until he blew apart and coated my throat, then get him hard and have him fuck me until I passed out.
He’d gotten here before I’d been able to lay out the lube and condoms, but he knew where to look and within a second he was ripping open the lube packet. With tender care he placed one of my ankles on his shoulder, kissed my instep, and then pushed two fingers into me, smearing lube as far into me as he could reach. I whined. He began working my ass, eventually getting three fingers into me. I grabbed my balls and gave them a squeeze. An orgasm tickled my spine, the fingerlings of completion reaching out to my dick.
“Close?” he asked, and I breathlessly nodded. He hurried to pull his fingers out, cover his cock with latex, and bury himself in me. His fingers tightened on my ankle. With his free hand he grabbed my cock. He rolled his hips in a wide circle. I cried out, the pressure of that move on my prostate jarring me closer to coming. He did it over and over and over, his fist pumping my dick steadily. My balls drew up, I shouted and blew apart, spunk coating my belly, chest, and neck.
“Hottest thing…I’ve ever seen,” he huffed, slid his cum-coated fingers into my mouth, and fucked me so hard that I was bounced up over the bed until my head rested on the headboard. As I sucked and licked my cum from his fingers, he pumped a hot load into his condom, his growl a visceral sound that made my sweaty skin pimple up. “Perfect…so perfect.”
My ankle was released. My leg fell down and to the side. Ian planted his fists on either side of my head, my sleepy lids flicking up when his breath danced over my face. “I so want to kiss you right now.”
“No mouth to mouth. Too many germs. Sorry. Kiss me here.” I touched the corner of my mouth with my fingertip. He licked at the spot, his tongue nearly sliding into my mouth but not quite. My muscles began to soften. I let my eyes drift shut as my hands roamed up and down his biceps and shoulders. “You’re a wonderful lover.”
“Bet you say that to all the bidders,” he mumbled, his lips tight to my chin. When I didn’t reply he lifted his head, his eyes searching mine. “Opal, I was joking. Sort of. Don’t say anything to defend yourself. This is all me. I keep forgetting that this is…well, what it is.”
He pulled out and walked into the bathroom. I didn’t feel as scared as I did last night, so I laid there, resting, worrying, letting my breathing settle. He came out a moment later, his cock tucked back into his pants, his zipper up, and a wet cloth in his hand. I kept my eyes on him as he sat down beside me and wiped me clean. The cloth was dropped to the floor. Then he bent down to kiss my bellybutton again, making me giggle softly at the sensation of his tongue gliding over my navel.
“Nothing as cute as an outie,” he purred, rubbing his hands up and down my sides. I rolled toward him, eager to touch his face, his hair, and his chest. I liked the dark red hair on his pecs, the way it swirled. I traced his cinnamon color nipple. He fell back to the bed. I slipped out of my robe and crawled on top of him, running my fingers through his chest hair. “Take down your hair.”
I reached up to pull the comb out. He sighed when my hair fell down over my shoulders and back.
“Better?” I asked. He nodded, and shoved his hand into the long mass, fisting it, then releasing it, letting the strands slither over his hands.
“You’re simply lovely,” he said on a sigh, then pulled me down closer so that his lips were a breath away from mine. “Do you mind me monopolizing your nights? Are there favorite bidders that you need to tend to? Say no.”
A breathy laugh escaped. “No, there are no bidders I’d rather tend to than you.” It freaked me out more than a little to realize how true that was. “Would you like some water? Something to eat?”
“Let me see your menu.” He let go of my hair. I fished the list out from under the pillow and handed it to him. “Don’t move. Sit right there.”
“So pushy,” I teased but did as he bid, resting on his thighs, I ran my fingers through my hair as he perused my list of desires.
“My goodness, Opal, you’re such a naughty gem.” He lowered the list, his blue eyes molten. “Rimming, edging, sex toys, ménage…I’m not sure I want to see another man touching you.”
“Possessive much?” I continued to work the snags out of my hair. His chuckle was hearty.
“Oh, yes. Does that bother you?”
I paused, fingers midway through my hair, and pondered. “Not as long as it doesn’t veer into the insane stalker kind of possessiveness.”
“Never. I know the line we’re walking here, and if you ever tire of me, say so and I’ll stop coming. You have my promise.” It was highly doubtful that would happen anytime soon. Ian was the first man in forever who’d made me feel something when having sex, who’d treated me as a lover and not just a pretty slab of meat with orifices. “Foot play. Mm, does that mean I get to suck your toes?”
“If you want. I’m here for your pleasure.” He gave me that look, a mild disapproving one, and I knew instantly why. “Yes, it means you can suck my toes.”
The tension left his too-handsome face. His hang-up with honesty was constantly fucking me up. Bidders didn’t want honest, they wanted fiction.
“Do you like to have men suck your toes?” He tossed the “menu” aside then placed his hands on my ass, scooting me up so that I was resting on his groin.
I shrugged. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been asked to do. Do you want to suck my toes?”
“Not this time. How do you feel about tea-bagging me?”
My dick stirred at the thought of lowering my balls into and out of his hot, wet mouth over and over and over…
He smiled wickedly at the small nod of agreement, and before I could think properly, he had my knees resting beside his ears, my balls in his mouth and his hand on my cock, working it back into a full hard-on.
“Let me know when you’re close,” he mumbled around my sac. Something like an ‘okay’ fell out of me but I think it might have been in Korean, I didn’t know. All I knew was that this big, ginger man was one of the best things to walk into this whorehouse in a long, long time and I was so fucking happy he had chosen to bid on me.