“I won’t. Scout’s honor.”
Eli rises and fetches our drinks. As I take a sip of mine, the sweetness of frozen strawberries and the pleasant burn of tequila floods my mouth.
I have to hand it to Karen. She makes a mean drink.
Normally, I wouldn’t admit to Eli what I’m about to tell him. But the alcohol gives me courage, and he makes me feel safe.
“I’m wondering if I deserve any of this,” I finally admit over the salted rim of my glass.
Eli laughs.
Liar.
“Sorry,” he says, kneeling down between my legs again. His breath is frosty and cold when he lowers it to my inner thigh. “That’s just the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“It’s not.” I pout, followed by a sharp intake of breath as Eli’s cold lips press higher up on the thin skin of my thigh. “This is all so much, Eli. It can be overwhelming sometimes.”
“Are you overwhelmed now?”
I stare down at him, quirking an eyebrow. He looks back up at me innocently.
“A little. Your face is practically buried in my cunt.”
Eli laughs again, nuzzling my pussy through the lace of my thong. He kisses it, then he blows another icy breath onto my pussy lips.
My clit, in an act of pure betrayal, throbs.
“Good,” he says, moving up my body. I take another sip of my margarita just to steady myself. His kisses are cold, but fuck. They make me burn anyway. “I want you overwhelmed.”
“It’s too much,” I complain, but even then, it sounds too half-hearted to be real.
“Perfect,” he says.
His lips travel up my stomach and to my ribcage. They linger at my breasts while his fingers unhook my bra. His cold tongue encircles my nipple before he takes it into his mouth, sucking so hard that I can’t help but moan.
“You deserve this,” he says, moving his lips to my neck.
I breathe out, hot and heavy.
“Every moment,” he says, kissing along my jaw.
My chest heaves with delight and longing and the thousand other little things Eli and his mouth can make me feel.
“Every pleasure,” he says, and then he conquers my lips.
I’m lucky I’m already laying down, because a kiss like that would literally knock me off my feet. Instead, Eli makes my toes curl as his fingers tease beneath my panties again, searching for—and finding—my wet, swollen clit.
“I want to pamper you, Sofie,” Eli professes, breaking our kiss. I lean forward with my lips, needy and hungry for more, and he rewards me with another smaller kiss. “I want to treat you like a goddess.”
Laid back in a pile of pillows, being kissed and fingered by a dashingly handsome billionaire, I can sufficiently say that I feel like one.
“I want to fuck you like a whore,” he continues, his voice dropping into a wolfish growl.
Oh, fuck. That makes my pussy gush and throb. I whimper, and he kisses me again.
“Do you know why that is, Sofie?” he asks.
I bite my lip and stare at him with desperate eyes.
I sit my margarita on the floor next to us, where it’s promptly forgotten.
I shake my head no.
He kisses me again.
“I’ll tell you why,” he says, trading his fingers for his thumb as he presses them into my cunt instead. “When I saw you at the auction, up there on the stage—”
“Oh my god,” I gasp.
“With your beautiful face and your gorgeous fucking body—”
“Oh my god.” I’m getting close, and if he keeps this up…
“Dressed like a goddamn tart in that tight little dress and still looking like the classiest woman in the entire building—”
“Eli,” I gasp. “Please…”
“Coming,” he adds. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. You weren’t even touching yourself, Sofie, but you were so turned on by all those rich men bidding for you that you were orgasming, right up there on the stage where anyone could see.”
Christ. I had hoped no one had realized.
No wonder I had four men maxing out their bids on me.
“You looked so fucking beautiful, Sofie. When you’re enjoying yourself, you absolutely fucking glow.”
Eli’s fingers press deeper into my cunt. I moan.
Am I glowing now, I wonder? Because if he keeps this up, he’s going to have an encore performance right here at his fingertips.
“I knew then and there that I wanted to be the one to make you look like that again. To make you laugh. To make you moan. To make you come—”
I can’t help it. I cry out. My pussy clenches around Eli’s thick, talented fingers, and my clit throbs hard against his thumb. There’s a moment of tension that feels like it might fucking kill me.
Then, release.
Sweet fucking release.
As I orgasm around Eli’s fingers, clutching at the cushions with my own, he tips his margarita over my shoulder and down my body.
I gasp in ecstasy as the icy crystals pour over my breasts and river down my stomach. The strawberry-pink liquid meets Eli’s mouth and suddenly, he’s licking it off me, like he’s getting drunk on my skin.
He laps it up hungrily, then he’s tearing my panties off of me. He pushes his honey-soaked fingers into my mouth. I suck on them like the slut I am while his cold lips claim my hot, engorged clit.
Eli goes down on me like he was fucking made for it. I always heard that PR men were good with their mouths. I just never imagined that anyone meant it like this.
It’s too much. I warned him, and he didn’t listen.
Pretty soon, I’m coming again.
My orgasms are building like a snowball rolled down winter ski slope. Like an orchestra crescendoing to a dramatic climax. Like a Star Wars movie where every time someone shoots a laser, it speeds up.
Eli’s licking my clit like it’s a melting popsicle, and I’m orgasming.
Eli’s tongue is sliding in and out of my cunt like he’s fucking me with it, and I’m orgasming.
Eli pulls me to my feet and shoves me against the screen of the projector. Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard are having a fight in the back seat of a taxi cab on the curves of my body while Eli forces my legs apart, bends me over, and buries his face in my cunt.
And I’m orgasming. I’ve lost count of how many there were. I’m not sure they’ll ever stop.
Eli lays me back down on the cushions, kissing me and rolling my clit beneath his thumb in slow, lazy circles. It’s so sensitive now that with every touch, my entire body seizes up.
I’m shaking like a kitten pulled out of a frozen lake. I’m whimpering into Eli’s lips. Exhausted. Spent.
And he hasn’t even fucked me yet.
It’s then that I hear it.
Click. Click. Click.
But Eli is too busy making out with my neck to bother with decency as Karen returns with our third round of margaritas. I tilt my head in beautiful ecstasy, still coming against Eli’s thumb, as I lay eyes on our flight attendant for the first time.
Leave it to Eli to hire a supermodel to make sure his seatbelt is fastened and serve him drinks.
Karen’s beautiful lips fall open in a tiny oh as her gaze lingers on my naked body, cradled in Eli’s muscular arms, so wracked with orgasm that I’m more ragdoll than I am woman at this point.
I see a flash of something in her gorgeous eyes as she blatantly stares.
Jealousy, maybe?
No. Longing. I recognize it right away as she swallows hard and licks her lips.
Karen backs away like she can’t take her eyes off of us. I watch her go. Eli doesn’t even seem to have noticed.
He just keeps kissing me, over and over and over like that, until finally my body can’t take any more pleasure. Enveloped in his warmth, like a college freshman three beers deep at her first frat party, I gently drift off to sleep.
When I wake up, I’m still in Eli’s arms.
�
�Good morning, beautiful,” he croons, smiling down at me.
“It’s morning?” I say. My heart skips a beat. If I’ve slept through our entire Las Vegas date, I’m going to be crushed.
“Just a turn of phrase.” He laughs. “We’re just about to land. Come look.”
He helps me to my feet and leads me to a window. I kneel on the seat, naked and sticky and warm, with Eli’s hands on my hips as I look out and admire the view.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. On the horizon, I can see the bright flashing lights of the Las Vegas strip, brightening up the night with a dozen different colors, framed by a sky full of stars.
“It sure is,” Eli says.
It takes me a second to realize that he’s admiring me again instead of the view.
“You know,” he says, kissing my neck, “you’re still not an official member of the Mile High Club yet.”
“No?” I laugh. “I would have thought orgasming against Mickey Rooney in yellow face would have just about done it.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“You’re insatiable.”
“You’re right.”
I bite my lip in faux contemplation. But who am I kidding?
With a man this fine at my disposal, we can fuck the entire vacation away for all I care.
I arch against him, still so fucking wet from earlier. If anything, I’m even wetter. Napping in Eli’s arms must have given me dirty dreams.
“That’s my girl,” Eli says, squeezing me tight.
Then he pushes me up against the window and shoves his cock in my cunt.
I’ve had Eli inside me before. Hell, I’ve had various parts of him inside me all night. But that first time, it all happened so fast. So intensely.
And, of course, there were two other men there.
Now I have a chance to feel him. Really fucking feel him—the way he stretches me out, forces my tight little pussy to mold to the shape of his giant cock, makes me take all of him. Inch by inch by deliciously agonizing inch.
It feels fucking good.
It feels right.
And it’s not just the fucking. It’s not the way he makes me come—again—with my tits pressed up against the window of his luxury jet and the Vegas skyline sprawled out beneath us.
It’s not even the romance of it all. The way he can spoil me like no other man ever has. The fact that he’s totally willing to do so, whether it’s with his mouth or his cock or his wallet, no questions asked.
There’s actually something here, I realize, as Eli worships my body like a queen and takes me from behind like a whore. It’s something that I haven’t felt for a long time.
It’s something that I haven’t allowed myself to feel.
I’m actually falling for this man.
On the second date.
Like a virgin teenager who thinks she’s going to marry the first guy she kisses.
Hard, fast, and uncontrollably.
“Take it, Sofie,” Eli growls, thrusting deep into my hot, wet cunt. “Take my fucking cock.”
“Please,” I whimper. Please what? I don’t know.
I just want more.
“Beg me,” he growls, his teeth scraping against my shoulder. “Beg me for my cum.”
“Please!” I push back against him as he thrusts into me. Our bodies move perfectly together in time.
“Not good enough.” Eli’s hand wraps around my throat and gently squeezes.
My cunt goes fucking wild.
“Please! Please, please, please,” I beg.
“Fuck.” Eli smacks my ass. My palm presses up against the window. “More.”
“Give me your cum! I want it—I need it. I need it deep, deep inside of me—Oh god, Eli! Please! PLEASE!”
“It’s yours,” Eli says through his teeth, and then he moans.
It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever heard.
Eli fucks me wild, hard, and mercilessly as he empties his load as deep in my pussy as any man has ever been. I can feel rope after rope of his hot, sticky goodness coating my insides, flooding my cunt with his cream.
When he pulls out, I’m so fucking full of his cum that it’s dripping out of me. Right onto the expensive leather seat.
“Oh, man,” I say, watching every pearly drop leak out of my cunt and make a mess between my knees. “Karen’s gonna be pissed.”
“And we can’t have that, can we?” Eli jokes with a laugh.
“Absolutely not,” I say with conviction.
To rectify the situation, I take the liberty of lowering my tongue to aforementioned mess and licking it all up.
Bad Sofie might be a very bad girl, but hey, at least she’s courteous.
Eli watches me with ravenous interest as I lap up every spilled drop, roll it around in my mouth, show him the evidence, and then swallow it whole.
“Fuck, Sofie. Are you trying to get me hard again?”
“Me?” I say innocently, licking my lips and fluttering my eyelashes. “Never.”
“Saucy little minx.” Eli gathers me up into his arms, and I squeal as he kisses me wherever his lips may fall. “Let’s get you dressed. We’ll be landing soon.”
“I thought I would just wear this,” I say, gesturing to my naked body as he sets me back down.
“It’s an excellent look,” Eli admits. “You’ll have every high roller in the city eating out of your hand the second you set foot on the Strip.”
“Sounds messy.” I giggle. “You’d think they could afford plates.”
Eli assists me in tracking down my lingerie and little silver dress. He’s actually, genuinely boyfriend material, I realize, as he zips me back up.
“Eli,” I ask as we take our seats for landing. “The other guys…”
I probably shouldn’t be asking, I know. But I can’t help but wonder.
“Are just as smitten with you as I am,” Eli says, strapping himself in. “I just ensured that I’d get to you first.”
“You’re quick on the draw, cowboy.”
His gray eyes sparkle as he reaches across my lap and fastens my seat belt as well.
“In my industry, you have to be.”
“Do they know…”
“That I’ve whisked you away for the most fantastic first date in the history of romance?” Eli laughs. “No, I guess not. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t try to up the ante when find out.”
“Honestly?” I’m afraid Oliver and Lucas are shit out of luck there. I can’t imagine anything more over-the-top than this.
“You should go if they ask,” Eli says. There’s something reassuring in his gaze that makes me feel like he really means it. “They’re great guys, Sofie. Any one of us would be lucky to have you.”
“I just…hope I make the right choice, I guess,” I say nervously.
Eli takes my hand and presses my fingers to his lips.
“No one’s making you choose, Sofie,” he reassures me as the plane dips down to enter Sin City. “Just enjoy yourself. That’s all any of us want.”
I grin at Eli, and he grins right back at me.
With the way the night has started, I can’t imagine doing anything but.
Sofie
“Are you sure it’s not too big?” I ask.
“I thought you liked things big,” Eli jokes as he fastens a silver chain around my neck.
At the end of the chain is a diamond pendant so big, Miley Cyrus could ride it naked while crashing through a wall.
“It’s heavy.” I giggle. The diamond nestles just at the top of my cleavage, between my breasts.
“It’s perfect,” Eli reassures me. “Just like they say. Everything’s bigger in Vegas!”
“That’s Texas,” I snicker. “But I get your point.”
The diamond necklace was an unnecessary gift, and I told Eli so. But he insisted that my dress needed jewellery to match, and I think after all that Breakfast at Tiffany’s earlier, he was feeling inspired.
He’s carrying the little blue box the diam
ond came in in a shopping bag for me. We drop it off at the front desk of the luxury hotel he’s booked, along with some unnecessarily expensive lingerie, silk pajamas, and delicious massage oil that Eli deemed equally necessary.
I would have begged to differ, but honestly, Eli is so stubborn that there wouldn’t be any use. When he sets his mind to something, it’s like nothing can get in his way.
Which is why I’m letting him take me to the casino. Gambling has never made much sense to me, but Eli seems excited, and it’s infectious.
“I don’t know how to gamble,” I warn him as we take the casino floor.
The space is huge, and everything in it seems to glitter. We slide past a poker table where two pot-bellied cowboys and four befeathered showgirls are pushing chips and cards back and forth between two Japanese businessmen and a dealer.
“Then we’ll stay away from the card shark stuff,” Eli says, guiding me away toward greener pastures.
“Do you play?”
He laughs. “I do, but Lucas is better. Smug bastard cheats. Or counts cards. I’ve never really known for sure. For you, though, my darling,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me toward a huge roulette table, “a game of chance might be a better bet.”
“No skill required?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow.
“None at all. Just a little luck.”
I shake my head. “Maybe we should just go get dinner.”
“At eleven at night?”
“I’m starving,” I say, which is true. In the whirlwind of getting ready for the date, boarding a private jet, the margaritas, and the orgasms, I totally forgot to eat. “And I’m not exactly known for my luck.”
“Then it’s a good thing we’re gambling with my money,” Eli says, reaching into his tuxedo jacket and pulling out a stack of bills so fat I’m pretty sure the table groans when he throws it down. “Pick a number, any number.”
I bite my lip as I look up at him uncertainly. Either those margaritas hit him harder than they should have or he’s trying to impress me.
It’s working too. I can’t even fathom having that much money. He could burn and the result would be just the same.
“It’s your death wish,” I say with a shrug.
The dealer is looking at me expectantly. In a small panic, I point at a number at random.
“69 red,” Eli says, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, Sofie?”
The King's Virgin Bride Page 32
