Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [52]
But Damon’s rigid cock stretching up the center of her ass felt too good to ignore. And now his hand was under her skirt, stroking her through her panties, rubbing her clit in just the right way and reminding her what an expert touch he possessed. Pleasure echoed through her, but at the same time, more beckoned—that overwhelming urge to grind against his fingers, to press back against his erection.
She looked again to the right, to the left. She saw people in shadow but not nearby. And it was dark—getting darker each minute now as the last glimmer of light in the western sky faded to deep purple and then black.
And as Damon pushed aside the bit of silk covering her cunt and sank his fingers into her wet folds, her lust overcame her fear. She gave in and let herself gyrate against his touch.
Oh God, yes. Yes. Relief tore through her at simply responding, meeting his warm fingers in front, his thick cock in back. Up above, he gently, rhythmically pinched her nipple through her top and bra with each hot undulation.
“That’s right, babe,” he whispered in her ear. “Fuck my fingers. Fuck my fingers with that sweet, hot little pussy.”
The words spurred her on, and she prayed he was right, that no one would notice, that no one cared, because she was in too deep now to stop, moving against his hand, feeling how wet she was for him and knowing he felt it, too.
She bit her lip and did what he asked, even more vigorously, wanting to feel everything she could feel, wanting to drink in Damon and the night and all of Sin City. She leaned her head back into his chest, arched her breast deeper into his hand, took in all the pleasure he delivered—her only acquiescence to where they were being that she held in her moans and the Yes, yes, yes! she wanted to scream when her orgasm struck.
It rolled through her in delicious waves of heat, her breath coming harder, Damon’s arm anchoring her to keep her from collapsing, and only when it faded did she remember all over again that they were on top of the Las Vegas Eiffel Tower—with other people!
Letting out one last ragged breath, she rested against him and said, “Please tell me no one is staring at us.”
She sensed the turn of his head to check. “No, babe—we’re fine. And you’re fucking beautiful.”
He dropped a kiss atop her head, and the reprieve of knowing they’d not been seen compelled her to turn in his embrace, lock her arms around his neck, and pull him into a passionate kiss.
“Mmm, your hands,” she sighed, still a bit breathless.
“What about them?” he asked.
She smiled accusingly. “You already know. I know you do. They’re…incredible.”
He shrugged. “Okay, maybe I’ve heard that before.”
She lowered her chin and cast her sexiest grin. “Well, you’re hearing it again now, and…I’m going to reward you.”
Damon arched one brow, looking almost as if he were daring her. “How?”
Brenna could barely understand what had just come over her. But the fact that she’d managed to climax without being noticed, and that the night seemed to grow darker still, and that the elevator had just departed, taking some people away but from the quiet around them apparently not delivering any—it all made her bolder than she’d ever been in her life.
They weren’t totally alone—she could hear the soft echo of two people’s voices from the opposite side of the tower. But she decided they were alone enough. And like before with Damon, she found herself wanting to be wild for him, naughty for him, wanting to be what he wanted her to be—that dirty, dirty girl he’d brought out in her.
The elevator sat on the side of the tower far opposite them, and she prayed the other people would stay there, as well, and that it would take the elevator awhile to arrive again.
She pushed him back against one of the tower’s inner walls—then she dropped to her knees.
When