Vegas Miracle

by Crowe, Liz

  Grace watched her husband’s face as he closed his eyes, nearing release before he opened them and stared straight at her, his hands on Nadia’s hips, his body moving in and out of hers.

  "Aaaahhh God!" he called out to the room and grunted, never taking his eyes from Grace’s. For some strange reason, Grace had never felt closer to him in this amazing and bizarre circumstance of his creation. The bound, naked man now engaged with the man who'd finally shed his blue jeans and was fucking him, their grunts and groans taking over where Grace, Nadia’s and Ryan’s had ceased. Ryan stepped back and pulled himself from Nadia’s body before collapsing on the leather seat next to Grace, his hand on her shoulder, a wicked smile on his face.

  Chapter Seven

  Grace always got to skip the official checking in process for Ryan’s penthouse suite at the Aria. Everyone knew her from the double whammy her husband’s influence getting the place open the year before and her own growing popularity as a writer. Smiling, waving at the people she recognized, Grace followed the bellboy into the elevator and leaned her head against the mirrored side, exhausted in mind and body.

  "Welcome back, Missus Sullivan," the young man said as he turned the key that allowed them access to the topmost floor. "When can we expect Mister Sullivan?"

  Grace sighed.

  "Who knows, really?"

  The young man eyed her a moment then his training on "how to engage or leave customers alone" kicked in and he fell silent which Grace was grateful for.

  Still a little moist from her trip down memory lane in the limo earlier, she felt heat rise in her cheeks both in frustration and lust realizing that after that fateful night, Ryan started his subtle but undeniable emotional removal from her. They hadn't spoken much about the "party" afterwards which Grace justified as "I’m processing," but she felt guilty for holding back. No matter what she told herself about the circumstances, the she couldn’t get what she’d done later out of her head.

  ****

  Four weeks earlier...

  Nadia collapsed on Grace’s other side and as her body calmed and Grace watched the two men on the bed. They'd climaxed, or at least put on a great show of it, and now the towel was draped back across the younger man’s body and he was propped up on one elbow, looking at her. For a few moments Grace locked eyes with him, his dark chocolate stare seeming to bore straight into her. Then he smiled, raising his eyebrows as if to ask, "what did you think?" Grace sighed, glad the small moment of tension had passed, and smiled back. His grin widened and she was again reminded herself how beautiful he was, a specimen of male strength and exotic attractiveness, suitable for any magazine cover or movie screen. His coal black hair had come lose and tumbled over his shoulder as Grace spent a moment wondering what it would feel like between her fingers. Then she turned to Nadia.

  "Can I, I mean, is there..." she trailed off, unsure of the protocol.

  Nadia laughed and pulled both Grace and Ryan to their feet, kissing first Grace’s lips then her husband’s.

  "Of course. Follow me and you can even shower if you like. The spa is always open."

  Grace looked back, holding her hand out, hoping Ryan would follow but he shook his head. He put her hand to his lips.

  "Go ahead. You’ll be okay. I need to sit a minute. You know how I get."

  Nadia linked arms with Grace.

  "We will be back, darling," she tossed at Ryan.

  They walked out the door into the hall, which was still arrayed with various forms of mostly undressed human bodies.

  "Your man," Nadia whispered in Grace’s ear as they walked toward a set of wide steps. "He is very virile, isn’t he."

  Grace giggled, part of her unwilling to accept she was even having this conversation.

  "He is. But he has a long recovery, so he says."

  "Ah, so one and done," Nadia nodded sagely as if acknowledging a serious point of order. Grace tried not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of this whole thing. She'd just watched her husband fuck this woman hanging off her arm while the very same woman licked her pussy and finger fucked her until she came harder than she had in ages. Now they were discussing his virility in terms of "one and done?"

  "Well, not exactly. But he likes to relax for a while after," Grace finally sputtered.

  Nadia ran a finger down Grace’s arm.

  "He must make many babies with you, yes? A man like that must have many strong sons and beautiful daughters."

  "Well, no actually," Grace turned to face the lovely, dark haired woman wondering why she felt comfortable enough to discuss this delicate subject. "We don’t. He doesn’t want children and I really don’t either," she stopped off, unwilling to admit it had crossed her mind more than once lately. She dared not bring it up to him, though, knowing his firm conviction that there were enough people in the world and he didn’t want to take the chance of "fucking some kid up" by being a bad parent.

  "That's a shame," Nadia said, leaning in and kissing Grace’s lips. "I can see you wouldn’t mind having his baby inside you. You can convince him, you know."

  Grace didn’t bother answering. As far as Ryan was concerned, the subject was firmly, irrevocably closed.

  They entered a black tiled room that could pass for a spa in one of Ryan’s better resorts. Fluffy white towels and fresh flowers were arrayed on the long granite counters while three sunken hot tubs bubbled away, labeled "Cool,""Hot" and "Salt." Subtle, calming odors wafted through the room with each puff of artificial air. Someone handed Grace a thick robe.

  "I just needed to pee actually," she turned and felt a hand slip the zipper down along the side of her dress. "No, really," she insisted as the creamy slip of silk fell at her feet. She’d already shed her shoes in the room upstairs.

  Slipping her arms into the robe rather than stand there naked, Grace found the toilet and emerged to see Nadia stepping into the tub labeled "cool."

  "Come, darling, join me here," she beckoned.

  But Grace was starting to panic. This whole scene was too much to comprehend. Women were moving around the spa, variously robed or naked, laughing, some kissing each other. One couple was engaged in what could only be called a serious sixty-nine over on a large leather ottoman in the corner. Grace wouldn’t deny that her body was responding but her mind was closing down. The need for fresh air overwhelmed her.

  Finding the large door, Grace pressed against it, still watching the women lick each other to orgasm right in front of her, her own pussy starting to twitch in primal response to the scene. Stepping out onto the plush carpet, she ran directly into a masculine bare chest.

  "Whoops," she blushed and tried to walk around him realizing without effort that he was the man from the bed.

  "Grace, my dear," his voice was deep and inflected with some exotic accent Grace couldn’t place. "Are you enjoying yourself?" He side stepped with her and wouldn’t let her pass.

  "Oh, um, yeah, I mean, sure." She shook her head at herself.

  He moved alongside and put an arm around her shoulders. She caught of whiff of vanilla and resisted the urge to bury her nose in his dark skin. She shivered. "How do you know my name?"

  He turned, smiled and Grace’s knees started to shake. His dark hair, combined with the burnished brown of his skin and the sheer lust in his mocha eyes made her want to…Then his lips on hers cut off all rational thought. Grace put her hands on his shoulders, thinking she would push him away but the feel of his bare skin under her hands merely added to the enticement. She let him press her up against the wall as his lips ravaged hers.

  "Wait," Grace broke the connection and pushed back, trying to regain some semblance of control.

  The man took a step away from her and smiled as he took her hand and pulled it to his amazing lips. Grace shuddered and then looked around the hall, half hoping Ryan would appear and take her out of this situation. The other half was still wobbly with desire for the man sucking on her fingertips. His eyes never left hers but when he released her hand, he settled an arm around
her shoulders and leaned in to her ear.

  "I’m Henri." His accent was thick, edible. "I invited you." He nibbled her earlobe, sending shockwaves through her entire body.

  "Well, Henri," Grace leaned away from him as a defensive measure. "I, uh, should really go find my…"

  Before she could finish, Henri pulled her into a room and shut the heavy door with a loud thunk, and was kissing her like she’d never been kissed, lips firm and forceful. Not even fully comprehending what she was doing, Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and had her hand buried in the silky tangle of his long, dark hair. Their tongues collided and heat rose in her enervated body, making her nipples harden to tight peaks and her core flame with urgency. Breaking from his intoxicating lips, she gasped and looked up at the ornate ceiling.

  "But, wait. I can’t, I mean," she tried to extract herself from his embrace but he held her tight, running dark hands down her back and cupping her ass.

  "My dear, it’s why you're here," he whispered, his grin glowing against the deep mocha of his skin. "Haven’t you figured that out yet?"

  "I'm not here to do this with you," she felt anger replacing lust and channeled it to break free of Henri’s arms.

  He took a step back and sank gracefully onto a large lounge chair that seemed contoured to fit his body. Raising a knee so she couldn’t miss the huge bulge under his soft trousers, he appraised her. Grace stood, chest heaving in anger, trying to calm her wildly thumping heart. He was like something out of a movie stretched out on that lounge, a man shaped smorgasbord. Shaking her head to clear it, she crossed her arms.

  "Look, Henri, I just don’t know if my husband would appreciate me, you know, just going off with you like this."

  Henri laughed a deep, warm sound that oozed into her psyche, somehow soothing her in spite of its implication. She started to protest but felt her knees giving out in a combination of stress and confusion. Tears threatened. Henri was beside her in an instant, pulling her head to his shoulder, his lips on her hair.

  "No, no, it’s not like that. I’m sorry," he tilted her face up to his. Running the back of a finger down her cheek, he smiled and Grace couldn’t help but smile back. His mouth, when it reached hers, already felt familiar.

  She let him ease her down until she was lying next to him on the soft duvet. Unable to resist, she gripped his long silky hair, threading her fingers through it. Grace’s mind spun as his newly familiar hands ran down her arm, reached up to cup a breast, flicking at her nipple hardening in anticipation. Pulling his lips from hers before she could protest their absence, Grace sensed their soft presence on her jaw and she let him press her back against the bed. Taking a moment to stare into her eyes, Henri leaned down to nuzzle her breasts between the folds of her robe. Grace’s back arched up.

  "Ah God, please."

  Yes, darling, I know," Henri pushed aside the soft fabric and drew her nipple into his mouth sending shockwaves of desire straight between her legs. She bent one knee, willing his hand to her twitching pussy. And she reached down, wanting to feel his cock in her hand, needing the contact, but he stopped her.

  "No," he said simply, taking both of her hands and putting them up over her head, holding her wrists in place with his palm. "I'm in charge. Leave your hands over your head."

  Grace let a knee jerk flame of anger pass as a spasm of lust coursed through her at his commanding tone.

  "What are you going to do?" Her voice was soft as she watched him release his glorious shaft from his trousers, running a hand up and down its length. Grace could see moisture on the thick, uncut head. She licked her lips and fought the urge to reach for him.

  He smiled at her, eyes hooded as he stroked himself.

  "Touch yourself, Grace." His voice invited no argument. "Reach down and make your clit hard."

  Never taking her eyes from his, Grace did as she was told. Her damp, bare pussy never felt better under her own hand and Henri parted her robe so he could watch. Moving her fingers against the hardening button of flesh, Grace shut her eyes, closing out images of Ryan that threatened to overwhelm her.

  "Now," Henri’s voice invaded her ears. "Use your other hand to pinch that gorgeous, huge nipple. Make it hurt a little."

  Under some sort of bizarre Henri-induced spell, Grace did just that, pinching her own nipple as she felt her clit engorge and grow ever harder under her fingers as she used them to rub faster.

  "Don’t come," Henri commanded. "Not yet."

  Grace whimpered and slowed her fingers down to obey him but kept her nipple clamped between her fingers. Rubbing lazy circles around her clit, dipping her finger inside her pussy a few times, she stared at the man above her. Sitting up, really wanting to touch and taste that cock that was so close just above her, she gasped when Henri pushed her back down so hard she bounced a little. But before she could protest, his lips covered hers. She groaned as he put a hand over her nearly bare mound, the heat from his flesh searing her over wrought skin. Grace felt herself arch into him urging him to commit, for his hand to go further, but he just held it there as her clit pulsed against him. Henri bit down on her lower lip just hard enough to make her whimper before shoving her hands back over her head.

  "Stay there."

  Grace glared up at the ceiling, unwilling to be controlled but not protesting, not yet. Henri’s hands ran down both arms, tickling her a little underneath, bringing goose bumps as he lightly brushed the sides of both breasts. Thumbs played over her nipples, making her arch up again. She felt his mouth on one, then the other, nuzzling, sucking, pulling them hard into his mouth. Grace had never experienced such a sensation and her hands clenched in fists over her head to keep from grabbing him, from pulling him up. She felt positively vacant; had never felt such need for a cock inside her.

  "Mmmmm," Henri growled as he looked up into her eyes. "I’m going to fuck you now, Grace. I think you’re ready, no? I think you need it. That little show down the hall, Nadia’s sweet mouth on this pussy was lovely but," he reached down and shoved two fingers inside, stretching her, making her shudder with suppressed orgasmic energy.

  "She got Ryan’s cock. Now you get mine."

  Trying to calm her pounding heart, Grace nodded, unable to speak, letting him stretch her with his fingers, loving the sensation of this man’s touch although part of her was still in shock at what she was doing. Where was Ryan? She glanced around, as Henri’s fingers approached her g-spot, making her lift one leg and wrap it around his strong torso, willing him to do more.

  "Kiss me," his voice was hoarse making Grace realize he was just as turned on as she was. She smiled and arched up, sensing the orgasm over take her, roaring up from her core. Grace closed her eyes, leaving behind everything not directly concerned with her body’s exquisite blinding light of climax. Henri’s fingers touched the nerve bundle just as it exploded over them, filling her with the pure physical and emotional release as only the very best orgasm can.

  Henri reached up to clasp her hands, keeping them pinned so she was left writhing in pleasure with nothing to hold on to. He grabbed one of her legs and threw it over his shoulder before he drove his cock inside her, ramming so hard she screamed in the last throes of the monster orgasm he’d just ripped from her. The amazing angle Henri created made her body clench and almost resist the thickness of his cock but he'd stretched her and the extreme need to be filled by him completely overwhelmed any worry about pain.

  Grace lifted her entire pelvis up, higher, pulling him in deeper. His chocolate eyes were glowing black, his dark hair framing his face. Grace watched as if from afar as her body spasmed in pleasure. Just as she was reaching for his ass, needing to feel his flesh under her hands, he stopped. Grace moaned as she felt the throb of his need inside her, She was positive he was about to blow. Then Henri took a long, shuddering breath.

  "No," he commanded again, jerking his chin at her. "I'm making the rules. You keep your hands up there or I’m going to tie them."

  He resumed but this time with slow, smoot
h strokes, pulling his thickness all the way outside her soaking center. Grace looked down, saw his thick purple head gleaming with her juices just outside the throbbing pink of her sex. She watched, fascinated, as he penetrated her again, purposefully and controlled, and felt her pussy grasp at him in a primal dance of lust and need. Grinding his pubic bone against hers with his cock fully sunk deep inside her, Henri groaned.

  "You have the most amazing,” he stopped, grunted, “Ah God I can’t stop." Jaw clenched, his dark skin flushed deeper brown as a bead of sweat dripped from his Roman nose onto Grace’s breasts. She pressed against him, felt his balls contract near her ass as his body prepared for orgasm. His face clenched in what looked like agony as he pulled out one last time before driving her down into the mattress with massive thrust.

  Henri shuddered, cried out as she lifted her hips as high as she could while he thrust into her again and again and then stopped, his body shaking, his eyes back on hers. He collapsed down onto Grace’s body and she ran her hands down his sweat-slicked back, the muscles strong, clenched beneath her palms.

  Henri propped himself up again, kissing her with an urgency and passion that spoke volumes. It was as if there was a deeper connection, something more he sought with his desperate lips and tongue. Grace gave herself a mental smack. This was a sex party pure and simple. Ryan had gotten them into it somehow so she could have some firsthand experience for her fiction.

  She broke away and struggled up, her entire body languid and slow moving. Wanting nothing more than to lie in Henri’s arms, sleep with his breath against her ear, she fought it. She loved her husband. This was insane, this need to be held by the young, dark skinned man who had just rocked her world.

  A sharp knock at the door made her leap to her feet and she yanked the robe back on, using the edges to wipe the fluid that coated the inside of her thighs. Henri rolled over and put his hands behind his head.