Seven Nights of Sin - Lacey Alexander [59]
A gasp of unrestrained pleasure escaped her as he leaned in to ask, in the dirtiest voice she’d ever heard from him, “Does it get you hot to imagine it? Fucking me right here, right now, in front of the gondolier, in front of the people walking around in the dark? Does it get you off to imagine the whole canal lined with people, but you can’t stop yourself, so you lift up your skirt and climb onto my cock and fuck my brains out while they all watch?”
Oh God—the pictures he sent darting through her head made her pussy pulse with raw, hard need. He still stroked her breast, making her crazier with each touch, and she heard herself speaking still more unbridled truth. “Yes. Oh, yes.”
“Tell me,” he urged her, low, demanding. “Tell me how hot it gets you.”
“It’s…like at the pool,” she tried to explain, breathless, every fiber of her being growing more ravenous with each passing second. “How I said I would do it with you on the bed there if I could, even in front of all those people. And right now—I would straddle you and ride your big, beautiful cock so hard. I would fuck you so hot, baby, until I came all over you.”
He was kissing her again, harder now, their mouths struggling, trying to take more of each other in somehow.
And then the gondolier stopped singing again.
And they both went still, looked up over their shoulders again.
And this time he did glance down. “I hope you both enjoyed our gondola ride here at the Venetian. Have a wonderful evening.”
God, they were back at the landing already. She hadn’t even realized—she’d lost track of space and time and everything else. She couldn’t speak, her breath trembling too much, but Damon managed to sit up a little straighter and say, “It was great. Thanks again for the favor,” as Brenna worked to calm down and act normal until they could depart.
As they walked away a moment later, hands clutched tightly, Damon said, “You okay, babe?”
“No,” she told him. “I’m going crazy. I think I could come just from kissing you right now.”
They walked briskly toward a line of doors that led inside. “Just hold on, honey, a little longer, and I promise I’ll make it all better.”
His voice was soothing, but when he squeezed her hand, her pussy surged with still more moisture, and she began to worry—insanely, she hoped—wondering if she could emit so much wetness that, without panties, it would begin to run down her legs. Was such a thing even possible? She feared she might soon find out.
“Hurry,” she said, then pulled him onward even faster, breaking into a light jog.
Seven
Damon had been with eager women before. He himself had been eager before. But not since his youth did he remember ever running to reach someplace to have sex.
And it wasn’t just Brenna who was eager. He was just as anxious—so he let her pull him through the Venetian’s doors and then through the casino toward the elevators, feeling like he would explode in his pants if they didn’t reach the room soon.
Damn, he wanted her. And he liked her. So fucking much. Too much. And he’d spent the last few days doing exactly what he’d told himself he couldn’t afford to do anymore, especially right now—he’d indulged his lusts, he’d let himself be seen in public with a woman right when he was being accused of taking advantage of women, and he’d been taking too many chances with her. But something about Brenna made it impossible to stop.
She might try to act casual about having been “a little more prim” before now—but he still suspected that she’d been a lot more prim until very recently, and he had a strong hunch he’d changed her into the sexual animal she was now. He knew that made him an arrogant bastard, but he felt it in his bones. And God help him, he loved it. It made him feel like…a god. Her god. But also like…he wanted to take care of her. Needed to. He felt almost as if he’d saved her from something—and had to keep saving her.
Normally, he didn