by Bethany-Kris
Yeah.
“Horrible week,” Caesar offered.
Really, it was a horrible life.
“Well, whatever the fuck it is, you know I never mind seeing your sorry ass in here. You always liven up a party.”
Caesar laughed, smirking. “I do try.”
“Do you want me to get your regular?”
“Just the drink this time—I’ll find my own pussy.”
Maverick clapped Caesar on the shoulder with a chuckle. “You got it—can’t deny you liked the taste you got of her, though. Pretty sure everybody on the floor heard how much she liked it.”
“They always do.”
“I’ll probably see you around tonight, then.”
Caesar slanted his gaze in Maverick’s direction with a nod. “Yeah, we’ll see how it goes.”
Maverick went his way, and Caesar continued his trek to the couch and table he considered always reserved for him. He passed a couple of recognizable faces—people in the celebrity and political world that most definitely could not afford to be found in a place like Lucifer’s Den. He enjoyed snapping a picture of them every once in a while even if photos were entirely off-limits.
What fun was it when he followed the rules?
None.
Caesar wasn’t sitting in his spot for more than two minutes before a girl in a tight, black bodycon dress and sky-high red heels came to deliver his drink. She flashed him a sensual smile as her hand came to rest on her hip. His gaze drifted over her to take her in—she was sexy enough, as far as that went, but nothing stirred him to act.
“Anything else I can help you with?” she asked. “Maverick said to make sure you were pleased.”
Caesar offered the woman a charming smile. “For now, I am. Grazie, bella.”
Her brow lifted at his Italian, and she grinned a bit. Women always did like it when the foreign language came out to play—Caesar never really understood the appeal. He could make a woman come just as well in English as he could in Italian. Who fucking cared what he was actually saying while they were riding his dick?
“Just let me know,” the woman all but purred.
He might.
Not tonight.
All it took was a flick of his hand, and the girl was gone. Maverick had trained his staff well, and the girls were used to being either the center of attention when it came to a patron, or dismissed altogether. Caesar usually fell into the latter category here because there was always something a little more interesting that came along to catch his eye.
Like that right there—damn.
The woman sitting on a couch just across from his had entirely passed his view as he scanned the club, and right then, she seemed entirely oblivious to him as well. Caesar liked that because if nothing else, it gave him the time to peruse her.
And damn, was she a sight to see.
The body-hugging gold dress draped over her shoulders dipped low enough in the front to give him a peek at ample, perky tits, and collarbones that made his dick hard. Yeah, he had a thing for those—liked to bite them, really.
A slit in the skirt of the short dress came up to her thigh, and when she crossed her legs, he swore he saw a flash of bright red lace hiding beneath. God save me. He would have groaned out loud if he were a lesser man, honestly. Anything red or lace was his weakness, and he wasn’t even ashamed to admit it.
Her black fuck-me heels helped to give her long, smooth legs the kind of promise that whispered they would look even better wrapped around his waist or head. Shit, he wasn’t fucking picky—she could even have it both ways, if she wanted.
The woman’s painted red lips and brown-copper curls framed delicate features, soft lips, and wide green eyes. Her gaze was darkened by smoky makeup he suddenly had every dark urge to smudge and ruin, and he wondered what that shade of lipstick she wore might look like when it was a ring at the base of his dick.
Wow, yeah.
He needed to get laid.
By that female right there.
As though she could feel his eyes on her, the woman turned her head from whatever had caught her attention, and her gaze landed directly on Caesar. Those small lips of hers curved in the most wicked way as her green orbs took him in from head to toe. He knew what she was seeing—women usually liked what they looked at when it came to Caesar, and he did aim to fucking please.
Black Armani.
Italian leather loafers.
Gold rings on every finger.
A let-me-fuck-you smile.
Sometimes, he could get them with just that smile of his alone.
Unashamed, the woman kept staring. Caesar lifted a single brow, and then pointed a single finger to the drink in her hand. Something red, by the looks of the little bit left in the glass. Probably sweet, but still enough bite to get her buzzed enough not to taste it. Her stiletto red—the same shade as her lips—fingernails tapped a beat against the glass.
“You want another one of those?” he asked.
Even over the thrumming bass from the music, and the noise of the club, he could tell she had heard him just fine by the way her nose crinkled a bit.
“No, thank you.”
Caesar stiffened at her voice.
Soft, sure.
But silken.
Like the words stroked her lips with each one she spoke, and they probably tasted like sex coming out.
But it wasn’t even that which made him pause. No, it was the hint of the accent in the background of her words—Italian.
“Care to join me?” he asked.
The woman gave him a second look, and then nodded. It wasn’t a blink and a breath in time before she was gracefully standing from her own couch, and crossing to join him on his. He couldn’t help but take in the way her trim waist melted into shapely thighs. All that golden skin of hers looked good enough to fucking eat.
“You looked lonely,” he said to her after she had rested back on his couch. “Couldn’t have a beautiful woman being sad on my watch.”
The woman shrugged. “My husband flaked.”
Oh, Christ.
God was good to him.
He was the worst kind of sinner.
And God still loved him.
At least, for tonight.
“Shame,” Caesar murmured, “because I couldn’t imagine leaving someone like you alone to fend for herself. Someone might come along and corrupt you.”
The woman smiled in that wicked, sinful way of hers all over again. It was enough to make Caesar lean just an inch closer to her—the heady sent of her floral perfume soaking into his lungs with every breath. He didn’t miss how her gaze dropped to his mouth, or the way her green eyes darkened just enough to suggest she liked what she was seeing.
“A little late for corrupting me,” she whispered.
“Is that so?”
“A bit, yeah.”
“Well, if I were an honest man—and I am, a good portion of the time—then I would say you didn’t actually look lonely at all, or like you were pissed about your husband.”
“Why would I be? Something better is always waiting, right?”
Fucking right.
“Something most definitely is waiting,” he agreed.
“Your name?”
“Caesar.”
The woman laughed—it was a breathless, yet musical sound. It made a shot of heat gather in his gut, and ricochet right down to his already-thick cock hammering against the zipper of his slacks. He didn’t even know how long it was going to take to get this woman’s legs spread, but at the moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to care, either.
Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips as she murmured, “Like the tyrant?”
“I am far worse than the fucking tyrant.”
“How so?” she dared to ask.
Well, if she wanted to know …
“Give me a peek of that pussy of yours, and I’ll show you,” he countered.
Her gaze w
idened. “Here?”
“What do you think this club is for, donna?”
“I—”
Her stare darted over his shoulder, and then toward one of the servers heading to another section to serve.
“Why do you think they’re all here?” Caesar continued, not giving her a chance to think or say more. “They come here for this. To watch and to hear and to get off.”
“You haven’t even asked my name,” the woman told him.
All the air was gone from her voice again.
He could hear how turned on she was.
“Does it really matter?” he asked.
“I might like to hear you say it while you fuck me.”
All right, then.
“Give me your name,” he demanded.
“Carina.”
Caesar nodded. “Okay, Carina. Spread your legs, give me a peek, and then I’ll show you my favorite place to fuck in this club.”
“You have a favorite place?”
“You will too after this.”
Her grin was back.
And just like he thought, she spread her thighs, and swept her hand between her legs to move away her skirt. She pushed aside the red lace panties she wore, her pussy was already glistening with wetness, and a pretty pink that made him want a taste. When her gaze lifted to meet his head-on again, and she didn’t drop her skirt to hide from him, he was caught like a stupid fucking deer in her bright headlights.
“Do you want me to touch you right now?” he asked.
“What, like a test run?”
Caesar chuckled darkly. “Call it that if you want, but I come with one of those satisfaction guarantees.”
“There are very few men who can pull arrogance off, Caesar.”
“And I am most definitely one of them.”
She didn’t even deny it.
“Touch me.”
Caesar cocked a brow, and his fingertips skimmed her smooth thigh before edging closer to her pussy. “Ask nicely.”
Her breath caught, and then shuddered on the exhale when his knuckles grazed the silken lips of her cunt. “And just how do I do that?”
“You don’t know?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
Oh, a smart mouth.
He liked those.
They were fun to break.
Caesar let two of his fingers slide into Carina’s cunt, and marveled at how soft, wet, and fucking tight she was. The woman couldn’t even hide the way her shoulders relaxed from being filled, or the tremor that started to work its way through her thighs as he stroked her pussy once, and then twice. He could tell by the way her hips grinded against his hands that she wanted something more, but he wasn’t there yet.
“You beg,” he murmured, leaning in close enough to force her to stare at only him. His hand came up to grab her jaw tightly, and hold her in place as his fingers massaged a fleshy spot inside her upper walls that would make her so wet, she’d be a goddamn lake. “You say please. You do it repeatedly, and loudly. And then when I make you come enough times for my liking, you get on your knees, and you ask to finish me off with your mouth. That’s how you ask nicely, mia cara.”
Carina swallowed hard.
Her breaths shuddered.
“Oh, my God,” she gasped.
Yeah, Caesar could feel that telltale shake he was looking for, not to mention how tight her pussy was clamping down on his fingers. “That’s called your G-spot, and you’re going to come so hard from me playing with it that you’ll stain this couch with your juices.”
A red heat climbed up her throat and cheeks.
Shame, he thought.
Caesar liked that, too.
“Don’t even try to fight it,” he said, “just ask me nicely, Carina.”
She didn’t hesitate.
She clearly didn’t want to.
“Please; oh, my God, please. I want to come.”
“Count back from ten for me,” he said.
“W-what?”
“Ten, nine … keep going.”
His fingers worked harder inside her cunt—wet flesh, and a sucking sound that drove him damn crazy. She was going to feel divine when he slipped his cock in between her hot, soaked pussy in just a few minutes.
“Eight, seven, six …” Carina breathed out.
Her shaking was worse.
Her words were followed by a keening noise.
“Five, four, three,” she mumbled.
And again, and again, and again his fingers drove into that sensitive spot. She was right fucking there, and he knew it.
“Two,” she barely managed to get out.
“One,” Caesar finished for her before he covered her red-stained lips with his own.
Christ, she tasted like sex and candy on his tongue as he kissed her through the orgasm. He felt her arousal flood his fingers, and like he figured she would, wet the couch, too. There was no hesitation in her kiss, either, only a hungry need that let him know she wasn’t going to show anymore shyness with him tonight.
Good.
Pulling his hand from between her thighs, and putting distance between their mouths, he let those two fingers he’d fucked her with tap against her red lips.
“Open up, and taste.”
She didn’t question.
Didn’t even speak.
No, those red lips of hers opened, she took his fingers in, and her tongue wrapped around his digits to clean them.
And he found heaven.
Or good God …
Maybe she was hell.
“I thought your favorite place to fuck was inside the club?”
“It is.”
Caesar flashed Carina a dark grin as he reached over and hit the switch on the glass elevator that would force it to stop. Instantly, the floor lurched under their feet, the lights above their head switched to a deep red, and the music that had been pumping through the speakers quieted altogether though they could still hear it from the club.
Carina glanced up, and grabbed onto the railing at the sudden change, and only caught Caesar’s gaze when he stalked toward her in the small four-foot by four-foot section of space. Her body relaxed, and that smile of hers was back in a blink.
“Oh,” she said simply.
Caesar nodded. “Yeah, oh. Look around.”
Her head turned to peer out the glass walls of the elevator at the same time Caesar grabbed ahold of her face. He got the first taste of her skin right under her jawline, and the responding sigh he got from her only made him want more.
He licked and sucked at the pulse point on her throat while his firm grip on her face kept her forced against the glass wall. Her skin tasted like heat, sin, and flowers—roses, he thought. She smelled and tasted like fucking roses, and it was glorious.
She didn’t shy away from his touch—pushing her lower half into his while her hands rubbed the outline of his cock through his trousers.
“I can see everyone,” she breathed.
Caesar bit down on her collarbone, and then licked the same spot when she hissed. “That’s kind of the point, donna.”
His hands finally dropped from her face to pull the skirt of her dress up. He didn’t even need to fuck with her thong because he’d already taken that off downstairs, and shoved it into his back pocket. He had a plan for that.
She was shameless grinding against his hand when he dared to put it back between her thighs, and those soft sounds of hers filled his ears like rushing water. If his fucking cock didn’t punch a hole through his zipper, he would be lucky.
“Is this the part where I ask nicely?”
Caesar groaned before he crashed his mouth against hers, and found the lingering taste of her pussy on her lips. “All the fucking time—always.”
“And they can all see?”
“If they look up.”
“Jesus.”
“I love the look of shame on a woman,” he murmured into her ear. “Now
give me what I want, and you’ll get what you want.”
The words slipped past her swollen red lips easily.
“God, please fuck me.”
Fucking yes.
“Turn around, and bend over,” he demanded.
When had his voice gone hoarse?
And why?
Her breath caught with anticipation even as she turned around, and her gaze caught his over her shoulder. Lowered lashes, a mouth begging to be fucked, and her ass bare under his hands … what could be better?
Oh, yeah.
Her cunt squeezing him dry.
Caesar smacked her ass hard enough to leave a pink imprint of his hand behind, which only earned him one of her deep moans, before he made quick work of shuffling his pants down. The three-pack of condoms he always kept in his pocket came out to play, and soon enough, he had tugged his length out of his boxer-briefs, and encased his dick in latex.
“Widen those legs,” he said with a smack of his palm to her inner thighs.
She did.
And Christ, she was wet. The sliver of her sex glistened under the red warning light, and he could see her arousal slick on her thighs, too. Nothing got him harder, really.
“Like what you see?”
“Not even a question,” he returned.
He fitted his cock between her thighs, and grabbed firmly to her tight ass until his fingertips left pink spots behind on her golden skin. He heard her one sharp inhale of breath before he shoved in with enough force to send her up onto her toes—even in her heels.
“Oh.”
“Try again,” he grunted, pulling out of her wet, tight cunt to slam right back in again. “Give me the right words, donna.”
Oh, those words came.
Jumbled, and fast, and willing.
“Please … harder, please.”
Caesar started a slow, torturous pace as his hands slipped around her waist. He pulled her hands from the death-grip they hand on the bar, and kept hold of them with one hand. Reaching back, he tugged that thong of hers from his back pocket before bringing it out to play, too. In a couple of quick motions, he had tied her hands together in front of her with her underwear, and then he lifted them against the glass.
“Stay there and let me fuck you like you want,” he murmured.
Her body shuddered.
