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She’s right, and if I was thinking straight, I’d agree with her. But Ashley was the only thing in the world for me right now, and it took her walking into the darkened room upstairs to break the spell. There’s a small stage in the upstairs lounge, a red leather couch in front of it, and it’s just me, and Ashley Morrow now.
I let out a slow breath from between clenched teeth.
She’s not dressed up. Her hair is in a messy bun, and her outfit is simple. White denim cut-offs that are a little too big for her, a pink bra, and the hint of a matching thong under her shorts.
I shift on the couch, the leather creaking quietly under me, hidden by the music thudding through the speakers, blotting out everything beyond this room. She comes to the middle of the stage, the lights blinding her to me, and as she strikes an opening pose, coming into stillness, the curve of her back so arched and perfect, I want to rip her down off that stage and take her on this couch.
But I’m not a damn animal. I won’t force her.
If she wants to go, then she can, and she won’t ever see me again.
As long as she dances for me first.
She moves, her feet stepping forward and backwards, and as she starts to move, the music swelling around her, and the look of concentration on her face, I can’t help the growl that escapes me.
Mine.
All of her, mine.
The thought echoes in my head, and I know there’s no turning back from it. She moves smoothly, her hips swaying, my hands clenching on air like I want to grip her close to me. She comes to the edge of the stage as the music winds down, and a low groan vibrates up my chest as she walks toward me. Her shorts hit the floor, a teasing move of her hand reaching up to unfasten her bra as it slips down her arms. Her breasts fall, heavy and beautiful, nipples tight in the cold air-conditioning of the room.
Private dances are always like this. This is the one place that the girls are supposed to get close enough to touch, and as long as the men don’t actually touch them, everything is alright. But as she bends in front of me, her face a mask of professionalism, it’s not close enough.
My cock is straining against the zipper of my pants, and I can feel the heat of her breath as she leans closer, the swell of her breasts brushing against my chest. Her thighs spread and she straddles my hips, coming in close for the lap portion of her job, but as the backs of her legs connect with the fronts of mine, I can’t help myself.
My hands wrap around her hips, commanding, a wild look entering her eyes as they flicker with uncertainty.
And I pull her down into my lap, grinding up against her, the feel of her wet cunt, slick and ready under her panties, a hot pulse throbbing through my cock, begging to bury myself inside her.
"You’re coming for me tonight," I whisper against her ear, and a shiver runs through her. Her eyes slide shut, and I know what I want. I could just pull her thong aside, snap it with my fingers, and thrust up right into her, before she could even say no.
I could do it right fucking now.
CHAPTER 6
ash
My heart is racing. His hands, rough, the knuckles bruised and battered, are like steel bands around my hips. They’re strong enough to crush me. I don’t doubt that for a second.
But he’s not moving.
I’ve never had a customer, never had a guy touch me like this before, and it’s?—
It’s wrong.
This is wrong, and I should be trying to get away. But I can’t move. My thighs are pressed into his, and I can feel him, his cock rock-hard and thick, and he’s pressing it up between my thighs, grinding into the wetness of my panties. He’s so close to where I need him. The feel of his body is electric, and a rush of wetness coats me as I tremble, caught in his grasp.
His words ring in my ears, and a jolt goes through me.
Nobody has ever, ever spoken to me like that. My eyes shut tight, and I shudder in his grip, as he holds onto me tighter, the strength in his hands incredible, as if he could break me and put me back together with his bare hands. I should be signalling for security, making the hand-movements that tell them I’m in trouble, they’d see it over the security camera and come rushing in immediately.
Instead, I can’t do anything but press down on him, and let out a ragged breath.
"Say yes," he orders, his voice harsh, his grip on me almost painful. "Tell me you want me to make you come so hard you can’t even breathe." His voice rasps over me, sending a rush of heat clenching deep inside my cunt, a pulse of need that makes my thighs clench around his hips.
"Yes," I whisper, and a sound rumbles through his chest, something dark and pleased, and his mouth comes down on mine. His lips are hot, the kiss demanding, and the shock of his tongue slipping between my lips makes me cry out and open my mouth to him. He kisses me hard, his hand coming up to tangle in my hair, his other hand sliding down, pushing between us, and a whimper escapes me.
He tears my thong. I feel the fabric ripping away, and the sound, the feel of it, it should bother me, it should make me scream. Instead, it’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, and I feel my pussy soaked, the ache inside me desperate for more.
