And then it hit her. He didn’t care. Or maybe he didn’t see. But either way, it was still Brenna he desired. If he only wanted to get to Jenelle, he could have taken her thong off himself. Yet he wanted Brenna to do it. He wanted to keep guiding her through the intense sexual education he’d been giving her this week. This was still about her.
Swallowing back her nervousness and hoping Damon didn’t see it, she reached down to hook her thumbs through the lace at Jenelle’s hips. When Jenelle lifted her ass from the bed, allowing Brenna to pull the panties gently to her knees, her gaze naturally gravitated to Jenelle’s pussy. The sight of which made her suck in her breath, hard—because all of Jenelle’s pubic hair had been removed!
She supposed she’d caught sight of such things before—in a Playboy magazine Wayne had once bought, or when she had accidentally opened spam e-mail containing obscene photos—but it had never occurred to her that any other sort of woman would do that.
And now, as she studied the silky, bare slit between Jenelle’s slender legs, she couldn’t help being both taken aback and…amazed. At how much more on display it seemed—like everything in Sin City—and how much more exciting.
She’d never thought she could have an interest in another woman’s cunt, but suddenly, more curiosity tugged at her—prodding her to reach down and gingerly stroke her middle finger through, making Jenelle moan and leaving her fingertip wet.
Oh God, had she just done that? Just touched a girl’s pussy? Without Damon even asking her to?
She peered across Jenelle’s body at Damon, knowing she must look shocked. But Damon’s gaze was all heat, all hunger. She didn’t even realize she was holding her hand up, fingers separated, the moistened middle one protruding slightly, until Damon closed his warm hand around hers and drew her wet finger into his mouth.
Her own pussy surged with the knowledge that he was sucking another girl’s juices from her hand. And though a bit of jealousy could have entered the mix, too, there was none—there was simply the strange sense that bringing another woman into their sex had somehow drawn them closer. She didn’t quite understand how that had happened, but as she peered into Damon’s eyes, she felt it in her bones—and in the hot pulse of her cunt.
She felt it so strongly that she reached across Jenelle, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him hard. She closed her eyes and thrust her tongue in his mouth and lost herself in the wetness there, the taste of him mixing with the taste of her, and even of Jenelle—and she followed the instinct suddenly gnawing at her, and said, raggedly, “Lick her. I want to watch you lick her. I want to see you doing that to someone else.”
A low sound left his throat as his eyes went glassy with arousal. As she withdrew her hands from his face, he grabbed her wrists and this time kissed her just as feverishly before saying, “Spread her legs for me.”
Brenna’s pussy surged again, but she managed to break her gaze with Damon and peer back down to Jenelle’s smooth cunt. The thong still rested around her knees, but Damon swiftly pulled the lace down and off.
Every nerve ending sizzled with awareness and anticipation as Brenna gently lowered her palms to the tops of Jenelle’s tan, shapely thighs, listening to her sigh. She glanced up to see Jenelle sensually tweaking her nipples and licking her upper lip as she looked into Brenna’s eyes.
Slowly, Brenna eased her touch inward, each subtle move drawing another tiny gasp of pleasure from Jenelle—until she pushed Jenelle’s legs apart, wider, wider, until the flesh at their crux opened, revealing the pink folds inside.
Brenna’s breasts ached with desire as her own cunt swelled—all from sharing something so strangely intimate with Damon. How was it possible that having another party in their sex made her feel so connected to him? She didn’t know, but when their eyes met overtop Jenelle’s pussy, she could have sworn he felt the same way.
“Lick her now,” Brenna breathed, bewildered by how much she wanted that, needed to see it.
After bestowing another moist kiss on Brenna’s lips, Damon knelt down and stroked his tongue through Jenelle’s open slit. His eyes met Brenna’s as he finished the long, thorough lick that made Jenelle sob, and the whole combination of sensations turned Brenna still crazier with lust. “Again,” she said.
He obeyed, and the tide had turned—suddenly she was no longer the submissive one.
And somehow, by licking Jenelle on Brenna’s command, their eyes meeting the whole time, it felt—inexplicably—almost as if he were doing it to her. She was still a part of it, still intimately involved in the act even without reaping the direct physical pleasure. She loved watching him so closely—closer than she could when he licked her. She loved how wet and open Jenelle’s inner folds appeared each time his tongue ascended them. She loved hearing Jenelle’s moans, watching her pelvis lift to meet his mouth—and knowing she had made it happen, by her whim, her wish, her desire, her command. She’d never felt such sexual power without touching or being touched.
But the more she watched her lover tongue another woman’s cunt, the more she, too, needed physical interaction, friction, pleasure. So she turned her eyes from Damon and resumed her attentions to Jenelle’s breasts. At first, she kissed them some more, licked them, delighting in the way Jenelle’s erect nipple sprung back when she flicked her tongue across it. But soon she returned to the hot joy of simply rubbing her own breasts lightly, playfully across Jenelle’s.
When Jenelle wrapped her arms around Brenna’s neck, splaying her hand over the back of her head and pulling her down into a ravenous kiss, Brenna surrendered completely. To everything. Every sensation. Like before, when she’d been nearing orgasm, she ceased thinking—letting the physical pleasures consume her.
And soon Jenelle was sobbing into her mouth and thrusting madly at Damon’s, and Brenna dropped to kiss and suckle her breasts some more, wanting to help deliver her there, make her come.
“Oh!” Jenelle finally cried. “Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes!” Her whole body undulated madly, fucking Damon’s mouth as she screamed, and Brenna knew people beyond the curtain had to have heard that, but she still didn’t care.
Until finally Jenelle ceased moving, going completely still and looking utterly beautiful—even spent, with her dress bunched at her torso, her arms flung back over her head. “Oh my God,” she said, more softly now. “That was so damn good. You two have no idea how much I needed that.”
Damon, his white shirt slightly rumpled now but otherwise looking hot as ever, rose to his knees between the two reclining girls, sensually running one hand up each of their thighs. “You two were fucking amazing,” he said, heat sparkling in those dark eyes.
“Damon,” Jenelle said, almost as if he were being silly, “your tongue was fucking amazing.”
He only laughed, but Brenna bit her lip in wholehearted agreement, remembering exactly what it felt like to have it swirling over her clit. Yet then she realized they were tossing around the word “was” here, and she peered up at the man she’d fallen for. “We’re not done, are we?”
He lowered his chin, arching a speculative brow. “You don’t want to be done?”
She shook her head and, without weighing her words, said exactly what was on her mind. “I want your cock.”
His expression darkened as he pointed toward the enormous bulge in his pants. “It’s right here.”
She bit her lip, needing desperately to give him as much pleasure as he’d given both her and Jenelle with his oh-so-skilled tongue. And as she reached for his belt, she peered up into his eyes and said, “Now it’s your turn, baby. Get ready.”
Five
Brenna wasted no time extracting Damon’s cock. Because even if she had learned to enjoy fooling around with a women, she still needed a man to reach real, true fulfillment—this man.
She and Jenelle both sighed when they saw it, all strong and long and hard, the tip glistening with pre-come, the shaft pink and veined. She hadn’t thought ahead to what she would do with Damon’s majestic erection—she’
d only known an abject yearning for it.
She ran her hands over his length, from bottom to top and back again, gently cupping his balls underneath, unduly pleased to hear his rough breath above her and feel his eyes boring through her.
But very soon, it seemed there was only one thing to do to make this night complete, and fair—so she looked over the head of his cock to Jenelle, who sat waiting patiently, and said, “Lick him with me.”
Jenelle smiled, and Damon growled. And Brenna again knew the satisfaction of making the forbidden a reality.
While Brenna held the base of Damon’s shaft, she and Jenelle both delicately, sensually licked their way up the sides, as if sharing a large Popsicle. It was at once shocking and arousing to see another woman, that close, at Damon’s cock, but like before, arousal overrode jealousy, and soon she and Jenelle were exchanging light tongue kisses around his erection even as they pleasured him.
Although Brenna couldn’t bear to wait long before taking him in her mouth—after licking the dot of fluid from the tip, she lowered her lips over the rock-hard column of flesh, relishing the groan that echoed from Damon above. Jenelle fondled his balls as Brenna moved up and down, making him wet, letting him fill her throat—energized by his small, slow thrusts and his hand in her hair.
“Ah, yeah,” he said, his voice wafting down. “Suck me. Suck my cock.”
When Brenna tired, she offered the shaft to Jenelle, who didn’t hesitate to lick her lips and go down on him, as well. Jenelle worked quicker, more ravenous and less sensual—and Damon adjusted his thrusts, making them faster, harder. “Suck it,” he said, low and demanding. “Suck it.”
Brenna felt somehow as if she’d ascended to another plane—where all that mattered was pleasure, where no rules or taboos existed. And when Damon’s eyes met hers, she knew she must look desperate, crazed, so filled with lust as she was. And she was so tempted to say what she was thinking—I love you, I love you, I love you—but she managed not to somehow.
Still, he must have read the wild need in her eyes, because just then he pulled gently away from Jenelle, carefully lifting her head, then looked to Brenna, his eyes wrought with emotion. “I need to fuck you bad, babe—now.”
“Oh God, I know—me, too. I need your cock deep inside me.” She was clutching at his muscular thigh and felt like she was begging him, but she couldn’t stop.
Damon lay down behind her on the red velvet, wrapping one arm around to cup her breast, massaging it, and she turned her head back toward him, pulling him down into a kiss.
“Lift your leg,” Jenelle said, her hand closing over the leather strap at Brenna’s ankle.
Oh God—Jenelle! She’d nearly forgotten—that quickly—that the other girl was even there. She’d just needed Damon so much!
But now she complied, letting Jenelle raise her leg high—and watched between her thighs as Jenelle wrapped her fist around Damon’s thick erection, pulling it, positioning it, guiding him into her welcoming pussy.
All three of them groaned as Damon entered Brenna—and Jenelle’s expression made Brenna hungry to see for herself what he looked like going into her, penetrating her softest flesh with his hardest.
As Damon began to pound into her from behind, Jenelle lay down in front of her to kiss her breasts. Damon even held the mound Jenelle suckled, as if offering it to her—reminding Brenna that she was experiencing the ultimate form of sharing.
Soon, both girls fondled each other’s tits, and Brenna felt out of her head with pure reckless joy—and before she knew it, she and Jenelle were rubbing together below, too. One of Jenelle’s legs slid between hers, connecting with her clit as Brenna instinctively pressed her thigh forward between Jenelle’s.
It reminded her of high school, making out with a boy, feeling your legs interlock with his that way, grinding together, getting lost in that marvelous friction. Only this wasn’t high school, and Jenelle wasn’t a boy. No, Brenna’s “boy” was behind her, plunging his stiff shaft into her moisture—again, again, again—making her cry out and thrust back against him, which also meant thrusting the other way, too, against Jenelle’s smooth thigh, until…“Oh! Oh God! I’m coming!” she sobbed, the pleasure taking her from both sides, burying her, owning her.
“Oh, yeah—me, too.” Jenelle moaned, undulating harder against Brenna, thrusting their breasts together wildly—just as Damon let out an enormous groan that meant he was climaxing, as well, emptying himself deep inside her. And the three of them moved together like tumultuous waves on a red velvet sea—until they all went still, collapsing from utter exhaustion.
Six
Brenna’s whole body still tingled half an hour later as she and Damon walked hand in hand back out through the hotel’s casino and lobby toward the front doors. As was often the case since she’d started fucking Damon, the experience had left her almost giddy. Giddy because she felt so brazen. And feeling so brazen was so easy here—here in Sin City, and here with Damon.
She couldn’t believe what she’d just done with him, but she had no regrets. Damon and the hedonistic aura of this city were teaching her to live, really live, experience it, soak it all in.
As they exited through a brass revolving door to the taxi stand, a warm night breeze blew up under her dress and reminded her that, once again, she wasn’t wearing panties—they were tucked in Damon’s jacket pocket.
“Just so you know,” he said with a wicked grin beneath the lights of the large awning above, “Jenelle wasn’t part of your surprise. That part was pure serendipity.”
Heat rose to her cheeks as she sighed and peered up at him. She wasn’t remorseful, and not even exactly embarrassed, but she still felt a bit shy as she admitted, “I never thought I could…you know…want to be with a woman.”
He flashed a knowing, confident look. “Sex isn’t always logical. You just feel what you feel.”
“Who would have believed it?” she said on a sigh. “And guess what? Apparently, I don’t mind sharing, after all.”
Damon let out a laugh as a porter held open a cab door for them.
“At least sometimes,” she concluded softly, after climbing inside. She knew already that…well, even as astounding as the experience had been, she wouldn’t want to do it all the time. That quickly, she ached for more of the kind of sex they’d had in the bathtub—slow, leisurely, and alone.
After instructing the driver to take them to the Venetian, he whispered, “You were astounding.”
She bit her lip, wondering how much to say. “Somehow you…make me want to be. Astounding. And then…I am.”
They exchanged soft smiles in the dark backseat of the car now turning onto Las Vegas Boulevard. “You really are, you know,” he said. “I never would have dreamed you could be so…”
“Neither would I,” she mused when his voice trailed off, and it earned her a kiss. After which she teasingly asked, “So, how are you going to top this? How else are you going to inspire me to new heights?”
He cast her a sideways glance. “You’ll see.”
Since she’d only been kidding, she said, “Huh? What are you planning now?”
He tilted his head, cast a mischievous look, and leaned near her ear—and she waited to hear just what he had in mind, but instead he only said, “Babe. It’s a surprise.”
THE SIXTH NIGHT
“Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways.”
—William Shakespeare
One
Damon rolled over in bed and thanked the fates that he’d been smart enough not to schedule a breakfast meeting with Austin Cole. It was 10 A.M., which meant the Las Vegas Strip was just beginning to stir with tourists out seeing the sights before the temperatures became infernal—but inside his suite, heavy drapes blocked out the sun and let him and Brenna sleep in and recover from the night past. Once upon a time, he could stay out until four and function fine the next day. But at thirty-five, a guy needed some sleep.
He caught sight of Brenna in bed next to him—pretti
ly naked. They had gone straight to bed after reaching the room, but not before she’d stripped off that sexy dress. He feared he was growing too accustomed to that—to bumping up against her bare body in the night, occasionally wrapping around her, soaking up her heat.
Damn, last night had been…beyond his wildest imaginings. At least where Brenna was concerned.
He’d been with two women at once before. But he’d never felt the things he had last night: pure awe and pure…affection. And when he’d awakened just now, curled loosely around her, he’d felt warmer and safer than he could understand.
Something in the emotion took him back in time…to Angie.
The two of them had had sex, of course—they’d lost their virginity together. And though they’d both lived at home, as they’d gotten older, they’d had occasional opportunities to spend the night together. And maybe…maybe he’d felt this way then—that warm comfort of waking up together.
But he’d always known he was cut out for something more than the life he was living in Brooklyn, so, even as much as he’d cared for Angie, with each passing day his aspirations had tainted their relationship with more doubt.
With Brenna, though, it felt almost as if he could have it all. The sweet, genuine girl who a guy could take home to Mom…and the wild sex kitten who was never afraid to experiment, never afraid to indulge in her pleasures.
Shit—why the hell was he thinking about taking her home of all things? He didn’t take women home. Ever. Not since Angie.
Because he didn’t get into relationships.
Because he didn’t want that kind of life.
And you best damn well remember it, Andros.
After all, he and Brenna only had two more nights together before they headed back to L.A. At which point he’d planned for this to be over. And that still made sense.
Seven Nights of Sin Page 19
