by Jessa Kane
Inside the leg of my dress pants, my cock swells to life. More so when she feels it rise against her pussy and bites that bottom lip. “What do I do to you?” I ask, sounding like a wolf in a pasture, except my eye is on one single sheep and it will remain that way forever. “Fair warning, angel. Don’t answer that question unless you want to circle Amsterdam for the next hour while I punish you for looking like goddamn Sleeping Beauty for seven hours on our jet.”
“Our jet?” Veda murmurs, releasing my hand in favor of sliding all ten of her fingers into my hair. “I’m not your wife.”
She intends it as a light joke, but her humor fades when I sit forward, bringing our foreheads together. Grinding them together. “Not yet.”
For long, heart-pounding moments, we simply breathe against one another’s mouths. I didn’t intend to reveal how determined I am to make Veda my wife—and I would complete that particular mission if she were still in high school, without shame—but I’m glad it’s out in the open. That’s right, angel. Look at me. I’m out of my fucking mind over you and that will never change.
“Let’s stay at our place.” Her swallow is audible. “The place you rented, I mean.”
“Done.” I give her a light kiss on the lips, trying not to be obvious that I’m relieved. “Tell me why.”
Her fingernails rake my scalp lightly. “You work so hard. You should have your own space…with me. Your own vacation.” Her blue eyes are intent on mine. “I don’t want the whole weekend to be about me. My birthday present. I want us to spend time together, too. Can we?”
Does she really think she has to ask? “Veda, I wouldn’t bring you across the Atlantic without a plan in place. One designed to remind you how special you are to me. You should know that by now.”
“Tell me the plan,” she breathes, scooting forward on my lap. “Are we going to smoke pot? I heard that’s why people come here.”
I start to say hell no, because I hate the idea of Veda anything other than clear headed, but she smirks to let me know she was joking, as if she’s aware I’m unlikely to allow drug use of any kind. “After we drop off our bags and change, we’re going to take a private boat tour of the canals. We won’t see your father until tonight at dinner.” I give her ass a light slap and decide to surprise her by disproving her obvious belief that I’m predictable. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you smoke a little pot during the boat ride.”
Veda rears back with wide eyes. “No way.” I feel her giggle all through my cock. “Oh, my God, my boyfriend is so cool.”
“Don’t forget it.”
I can taste her enthusiasm in her kiss, her tongue finding mine and stroking it, flicking against it. Teasing, then delivering, teasing, then delivering. She pushes her cunt down on my hard-on and gives me the kind of lap dance that makes a man come in his pants. Of course it does, because Veda is the one delivering it, her thighs spread wide enough to do the splits. I slide my hands up beneath her skirt and urge her faster, growling when she grips the back of my seat and rides me, her face flushed, hips working like she’s trying to get pregnant through my pants.
The car pulls to a stop, and the driver turns off the engine, rapping once on the partition to let me know we’ve arrived at our destination. Veda makes a pouty face and slows to a stop on my lap, falling forward to bury her face in my neck. “How long do we have before our boat ride?”
“Not long enough,” I growl, my teeth gritted from the agony of blue balls. “I meant to have you at least twice on the plane, but—”
“I fell asleep. I promise I’ll make up for it,” she murmurs, running her flattened palms down the front of my shirt. “It’s been a while since I…”
A down low punch of need makes me groan. “Since you sucked my cock?”
She chews her lower lip and nods. And fuck, it has been a while. In fact, she’s only done it a grand total of once since we met, beside the pool in my Tribeca home. She left me that same afternoon, and my sole focus has been her pleasure since she returned, so although I’ve been burning up with the desire to see my dick disappearing into her pretty mouth, I’ve held off on asking. Or demanding.
“You don’t have to make up for anything, angel.” I drag my thumb roughly across her lips because I can’t help it. Can’t help being aggressive when the topic of getting Veda on her knees is being discussed. “But if it’s something you want, just know that I would die to feel your mouth down there again.”
Her smile is radiant. “Okay, Ramsey.” Biting back another obscene groan, I lean back against the seat so she can unzip my pants, my pulse escalating until I can barely hear, but she pushes the car door open and bounds out of the vehicle instead of freeing my aching erection. “Later for sure,” she calls back cheerfully.
Chapter Four
I’ve been to Amsterdam several times on business, but most of the time I don’t even leave the hotel until it’s time for an off-site meeting. Being isolated is something I’ve been accustomed to since childhood. The only child being tutored in the quiet, opulent den of my family’s home. No one showing up at boarding school on my birthday, an unsigned card arriving in the mail instead. Staying late at the office when everyone had gone home. This has been my life.
Until Veda danced out onto the roof of my Manhattan building, I never realized isolation had dulled my senses until I wouldn’t have felt my skin burning if I was on fire. Hearing her voice was like taking my first gasp of air after waking from a coma. My blood runs for her. It changes color according to her mood.
So while my instincts—and maybe even something in my DNA—urge me to keep her to myself, locked away where she can’t escape or find someone who didn’t spend their entire life broken, I am even more intent on giving her experiences. One thing I am confident in is this: No one can give her the experiences I can. No one. And I plan to show her so much of the world, she can describe its every corner in vivid detail. Maybe if I show her enough color, exhilarate her enough with everything life has to offer, she’ll feel an ounce of how I do when she walks into a room.
When we arrive at the boat, I can tell it’s not what she was expecting. Really, she should expect the best by now, but it’s a goddamn pleasure to watch her react when the boat pulls up. In true Dutch style, the boat is long and low, a lot like the ones sailing up and down the canals, packed with tourists. Ours, however, is made almost entirely of glass windows. Late afternoon sunshine glints off the polished surface, making it look like a jewel where it bobs in the canal at the end of a dock.
“Is that for us?” Veda spins around on one pointed toe like a ballerina and leaps into my arms, her face glowing. “It is, isn’t it?” I make a sound of confirmation, my throat too clogged for an appropriate response. “You’re never going to top this birthday present.”
“Watch me,” I say.
“Mr. Beckett.” The captain approaches with an outstretched hand, and we shake, his eyes widening a little when he turns his attention to Veda. “M-Ms. Rose. I’m so pleased to meet you both.” His Adam’s apple lifts and plummets, but he manages to tear his eyes off my girlfriend in the nick of time. “Right this way please and we’ll begin your tour.”
I’m satisfied when we climb inside the boat and everything is as I requested. The floor is made up of plush carpeting and dozens of oversized pillows arranged on one end, a small but efficiently stocked bar in the opposite corner, champagne chilling on ice. An ornate chandelier hangs from the ceiling, turned down low, along with the thrumming music.
Veda glides through the space, turning around and around, looking stunned. She runs her fingers along one of the glass walls that look out over the canal. “Everyone can see us in here?”
“No,” I answer. “We can see out, but they can’t see in.”
“Wow.” As if she’s forgotten the captain’s presence, she throws herself down on the massive mountain of pillows, stretching out with a girlish laugh, the conservative white dress she’s wearing becoming revealing as it rides up her thighs. High. Enou
gh that her thong peeks out where it runs up between her ass cheeks. “This is so amazing,” she breathes, probably unaware that more than one cock is rising to the occasion. “The only boat I’ve ever been on is the Staten Island Ferry.”
Knowing if I even glimpse the captain’s expression and find him lusting after Veda, I’ll want to do bodily harm, I turn just slightly and keep my eyes averted. “We’re here to see the sights, not you. Leave us now.”
Thankfully, the man doesn’t hesitate to stride from the cabin, closing the glass door behind him with a click. I need a moment to swallow the lecture fighting to get free, reminding Veda to be more mindful of displaying herself around men, but I beat it back, determined to make the trip a happy one. Besides, tonight we’re having dinner with the man from whom I purchased her—Jack, her father—and I have a sneaking suspicion the night will bring enough problems all its own. Best to enjoy the moment.
Who wouldn’t enjoy having this girl all to themselves, her pussy all but offered up on a silver platter where she lounges on the floor, one of the world’s most interesting cities passing by on either side? I watch her as I cross to the bar, pouring each of us a glass of champagne. Sipping from my glass, my cock hardens at the way her splayed legs point right to heaven, a little patch of white silk that dips in the center, showing off the valley where my tongue spends so much time.
“Come lie down with me,” Veda says on a sigh. “You can hear the water moving underneath the boat.”
I set down both glasses of champagne on a low side table and drop to my knees among the pillows, unable to stop myself from looking her over. “Get naked,” I rasp. “I want to see all of you.”
Amazing that she can still blush around me after the things we’ve done, the things I’ve growled in her ear since we met. She turns her face into the pillow with a tight-lipped laugh a few seconds before she sits up and complies, easing the dress up over her head. Then she falls back into the pillows, bare all over with the exception of the region covered by her panties. “Better?”
“Infinitely.” I plant a hand on one of her hips, dip my head and drag my tongue around her belly button. She arches her back with a sigh, in clear preparation for me to climb on top of her body and fuck her until she can’t see straight. Instead, I reach into my inner jacket pocket and produce the joint my driver procured for us while Veda was changing back at the house. “Since you’ve been a good girl. Mostly.”
Veda jackknifes into a sitting position, her tits bouncing with the sudden movement. “Ramsey. I didn’t really think you were going to do it!” She scans the interior of the boat. “Can we…smoke it in here?”
“We can do anything we want.” I slide the joint in between my lips and wink at her. “At any time. Ever.”
A breath shudders out of her. “I really want you right now.”
“Good.” I take the lighter out of my jacket and engage the flame, drawing on the joint until the tip glows red. Believe me, I want nothing more than to stub out this joint and rock this boat hard enough to create a fucking tsunami, but after she dry humped me halfway to a climax and left me miserable this afternoon in the back seat of our car with the promise of a blow job, Veda needs a little lesson. A fun one that’ll still end in her screaming, but a lesson nonetheless. I’ll indulge her teasing to a point because her nature is naturally seductive, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about her. But I won’t be played with, especially when her body is the prize and my hunger for it never fades, only increases.
After taking two drags of the joint, I hand it to Veda. “Just a little. We’re meeting your father for dinner very soon.”
The reminder seems to take a little wind out of her sails. “Maybe it’ll help me relax.” She brings it to her lips and sucks in the same pungent smoke I just inhaled, tilting her head back to blow a white, curling stream toward the ceiling. And promptly coughing until her eyes go glassy. “Guess you know I’m a beginner now,” she manages, before taking one more hit and coughing again. “What else is new?”
I wet my fingers and snuff out the joint, setting it aside, amused but also hyper conscious that I’ve corrupted Veda enough already. Getting her high isn’t something I want to become a frequent thing by any means. But I have to admit, the dreamy way she looks at me after inhaling the locally grown herb makes this one exception worth the guilt. “What are you thinking about?” I ask her.
“Mermaids.” She giggles into the back of her wrist. “I was thinking of mermaids swimming beneath the boat and eavesdropping on our conversation.”
I can’t suppress my low laugh. “Do you have sensitive hearing then?”
“Oh, yes.” She rises up on her knees and wades toward me through the pillows, fading sunlight and diamond-shaped shadows from the above chandelier making her look like something out of a dream. Maybe she is. My most-coveted dream. “Mermaids must have heightened senses so they can hear predators approaching,” she murmurs, twining her arms around my neck and swaying along with the wake rolling under the boat, eyelids drooping, mouth curved in a secret smile. “Sometimes, though…” She pushes up her tits, bringing them mere inches from my mouth, and it takes all my willpower not to lean in for a suck. “Sometimes they let the predators catch them.”
Without taking my eyes off her, I hook my fingers in the waistband of her panties and tug them down to her knees, turned on to an excruciating degree when she grows visibly excited, the pulse in her neck fluttering. “Why would they let themselves get caught?”
“M-maybe they like belonging to someone…just a bit on the scary side.”
I have Veda flat on her back before she can blink, my hand curved around her throat. She doesn’t move a muscle beneath me, but her pulse is now flying out of control, up against my palm. “Is that right?” My grip tightens. “I’m not sure the mermaids understand something. They’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg.”
“I do…they do understand,” she manages, her lips barely moving. “Show me the whole thing.”
Already, I’m shaking my head. It’s too soon, and there’s no way she could handle how deep my infatuation runs. Plastering her name across the top of the building was only the beginning. The stubborn set to her chin tells me she isn’t going to let this new desire to know everything go. Unless I distract her.
When I feel her fingers working the fly of my pants, I release her throat in favor of taking her wrists, pinning them above her head. “No.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “But I want to.” She strains against my hold, her delicious body arching, a feast for my eyes. “That thing we talked about earlier.”
“That thing we talked about, right before you teased me and left me in pain?” I lean down and swirl my tongue around her left nipple, savoring her whimper. “Now you can’t have it.”
“Can’t have…” Temper and a slice of panic flare in her expression. “But…I want you in my mouth, Ramsey.”
Hearing her describe the act out loud makes my balls heavier than boulders. “Next time you’ll take better care of my hard cock, won’t you? Instead of grinding your pussy all over it, telling me you want to suck it and then skipping off like a piece of forbidden fruit headed to gym class. Won’t you, Veda?”
“Yes,” she sobs, writhing, tugging on her wrists to free them. “Please, I’m so hot. I’m so hot.”
“No shit,” I rasp, letting go of her hands so I can slide down her body, settling myself between her splayed thighs. Because while I’ll sacrifice my own satisfaction to teach Veda a lesson, I’m physically incapable of doing the same with hers. “Come on, angel. Show me the pretty, young cunt that comes so easily.”
Veda presses her legs together, as if she’s going to resist. As if I won’t pry them right open and make a meal out of her, should she even try. But before any persuasion is necessary, another boat pulls up alongside ours on the canal. It’s one of the tourist barges, and this one is packed with what looks like a bachelor party, drunk men with beers in hand, staggering to the edge to get a better look a
t our all-glass boat. They’re maintaining their distance of twenty yards, but the men are leaning over the edge, clearly trying to see inside to where we lie on the floor. A few of them hoot and shout greetings that are muffled but definitely audible.
And that’s when Veda’s legs fall open, her attention going back and forth between me and the packed barge of would-be spectators.
“Naughty little girl,” I growl, although now my cock is fighting to be free of my pants, the moist tip pushing clear of my waistband. Whipping her panties the remaining distance down her legs, I lunge face first into smooth, wet pussy, mashing my mouth on top of her clit, dragging my lips left and right, leftrightleftright. She tastes fresh from the shower and fruity from the lotion she uses. A cheap, juvenile scent I’m too sick to replace with something more mature. “Play with your tits. Show them how much you enjoy being licked.” I jam my tongue inside her and draw it out slowly, her perfect texture making me light-headed. “You are one man’s slut, and your legs only open for his mouth. Show the men what I get all to myself, Veda.”
She’s a moaning mess already, her ass restless on the carpet, her inhibitions probably lopped in half, thanks to the pot and her unfamiliar surroundings. Her excitement is running down my chin, and I can’t get enough. I slide my middle finger into her clenching entrance and flick my tongue against her clit, groaning when her cunt starts to tremble along with the rest of her. The arches of her feet curve around my shoulders, toes digging into my muscle. “Ramsey! Oh…I can’t. I can’t stop it. I can’t wait.”
My tongue is playing her clit like a violin solo, and I don’t stop, don’t stop until she sucks in a huge breath and holds it, her stomach going concave. Her scream vibrates in perfect harmony with her thighs as they shoot forward and hug the sides of my head. Beside our boat, the barge is still there, the men not quite finished in their attempts to see inside. From my vantage point, I watch her look over…and get struck by a second climax, thanks to my still-working tongue and the illusion that we’re being observed.
