Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2 (11 page)

 
    
Her body soaked his fingers, and her
muscles did a rhythmic give and take around them. The musky scent of desire
permeated the small alcove. His cock and balls screamed in response.

 
    
She leaned in to stroke her tongue over his
bottom lip, and he knew he’d said exactly the right thing. Yet the kiss was too
gentle, too sweet, when what he needed was to pound her into the wall and
consume her totally.

 
    
He pulled in a long breath of air, clearing
his head, then gradually withdrew from her pussy. He wanted this coupling to be
more than a rutting, but he feared he was past that point.

 
    
“I’m going to fuck the hell out of you,
Virginia.”

 
    
She cupped his cheeks. “I’d like that.”

 
    
Like? He’d make sure she more than
liked
it. He pulled her flush against
him. “Tell me to fuck you hard. Beg me.” He wanted her need to match his.

 
    
“Please, Brett, now.” Her voice shuddered
through a deep breath that set his balls on fire. “I can’t wait.”

 
    
And he lost any modicum of control he had.
He didn’t recall each separate action, only that finally, finally, her legs
were around his waist, and his cock was deep and high. He wanted her so damn
badly, his legs trembled and his hands shook.

 
    
And yet it wasn’t enough. “More. Take me.
All of me. Fuck me out of my mind.”

 
    
Her arms around his neck, she took him,
engulfed him, owned him, whispering, urging him to harder thrusts, faster
plunges until he could think only of staying inside her forever. She contracted
around him, squeezed, and cried out her pleasure. Pure sensation rocketed from
his balls to his cock, stretching out to his limbs and springing back as he
exploded within her.

 
    
He lost his mind to her, and instead of
consuming Virginia with his fire, she consumed him.

 
    
Virginia had fallen completely into the
fantasy her husband created. He’d taken her with fierce desire, then left her,
only moments before, with a tender kiss. Her mind and body still reeled under
the impact. Brett made her feel as special as that woman in the alcove. He’d
touched her with a trembling need that made her come with mind-altering power.

 
    
Do
you know how badly I want you?

 
    
Badly enough to threaten a man’s life if he
touched her. Just as he’d threatened Sven down in the parking garage. Not that
Brett meant it, it was part of the illusion of The Sex Club. A great big bite
of the pleasure. Virginia had gone up in smoke.

 
    
Smoothing her skirt another time, she
pushed aside the curtain. A silvered-haired, fiftyish man in black tails
awaited her, a tray of champagne empties balanced on his hand.

 
    
“I’m to escort you to the bar to meet your
gentleman.” The waiter bowed elegantly without losing a single glass on his
tray. “If that is your choice.”

 
    
“Yes, it is.” Marrying Brett had been the
perfect choice. He knew how to give her the ultimate pleasure and indulge her
fantasies. He knew exactly what she wanted to hear.

 
    
Her attendant swept a hand out before him.
“Then please, follow me this way.”

 
    
Virginia floated down the hall, the guests
parting as if she were in some protective bubble. She paused at the threshold
of the salon. A month ago, the night before her wedding, she’d sat in this very
bar with Stacy and discussed Brett.

 
    
He sure had proven Stacy correct. Brett
gave Virginia stability at home and pleasure beyond her wildest dreams at the
club. She no longer gave a damn that they somehow failed to create sparks at
home. If The Sex Club made his banked fire rage out of control, she’d come here
as often as she could.

 
    
The waiter left her the moment they both
saw Brett.

 
    
On the other end of the sofa on which Brett
sat, a woman spread her legs and fondled herself. He didn’t look, his eyes only
for Virginia. Nor did he glance at what so fascinated the lady, a couple
engaged in fellatio in the next chair.

 
    
Virginia stopped before her husband, the
sounds of sex all around them, drifting on the air like a sultry breeze.

 
    
“Thirsty?” He handed her a glass of wine.

 
    
It was sweet, a tiny bit tart, a dessert
wine, and it tantalized her taste buds as much as the taste of him.

 
    
“Sit.” He indicated his lap with a pat of
his hands on his thighs. Despite the power of the orgasm he’d had in the
alcove, his suit pants were full.

 
    
Straddling him, she slid forward until he
was cradled amidst the folds of chiffon. His heart beat against her palm as she
settled herself. She tipped the wine. “Do you want some?”

 
    
He sipped, but a drop dribbled down his
chin because she hadn’t aimed correctly. Virginia bent to lick it up, tasting
the sweetness of wine and the salt of his skin, his beard’s shadow rough
against her tongue.

 
    
“Tell me what you liked the best.”

 
    
She smiled. “Besides what you did to me in
the alcove?”

 
    
His gaze unreadable, he ran two hands up
each of her thighs beneath the dress. “You were slick before I even touched
you. You owe me every detail of the experience.”

 
    
She had been wet, though her mini-orgasm in
the hall had been nothing compared to the one Brett had wrenched from her. Yet
she wanted to tease him a little. “You said you’d be following. Where did I
go?”

 
    
He raised an eyebrow at her test. “The
Train Depot first.”

 
    
“Then do you think it was the train that
turned me on?”

 
    
She tucked the wineglass against her
shoulder as he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her forward until his
lips touched hers. “Definitely not the train,” he whispered.

 
    
“It was like watching”—she laughed—“a train
wreck.”

 
    
Brett chuckled, then slid his thumbs higher
until they rested at the joining of her legs. “Funny lady.” He tongued the
pearls at her throat. “Thank you for wearing my gift.”

 
    
Virginia shoved her fingers through his
hair, pushing his head back so that he was forced to meet her gaze. “I do love
the pearls, but—”

 
    
Brett brushed her lips with his to stop
her. “I
will
give you things,
Virginia, and not just for times like these.”

 
    
“I didn’t marry you for your money or for
presents.”

 
    
Which was exactly why he wanted to give her
gifts, because she didn’t expect anything. He was in the process of acquiring a
very special gift for her, but it would take a few more days before he could
give her
that
surprise.

 
    
“But tonight was special,” she finished.

 
    
God, yes, it was. The knife edge of want
he’d been riding had been appeased. Though still semihard, he could actually
carry on a sane conversation. He wanted to know the progression of her desire
tonight, to isolate each step up the ladder. She liked that he’d been ready to
do violence to have her, but the word
like
just wasn’t good enough. He wanted her drugged with passion, as she had been
standing outside that alcove. He would determine exactly what had driven her to
that point.

 
    
“Tell me about The Male Room.”

 
    
She smiled. “It wasn’t like any mailroom
I’ve ever seen.” Then she crinkled her nose. “I peeked, so that counted.”

 
    
She’d closed the door so quickly that Brett
knew she couldn’t have taken full stock of the activities. For a man, there was
something uniquely erotic about watching two women together, the gentle
caresses, the total immersion in the other’s pleasure. He didn’t think the
thought process worked the same for a woman watching men. Certainly not for
Virginia.

 
    
He ran a finger along the edge of her pussy
without delving to the heat and wet he knew he’d find within. “Yes, it counted.
Tell me about the last room.”

 
    
“It was an interesting workout technique.”

 
    
He’d imagined taking her up against the
wall as she shuddered and panted over the bench press exhibition.

 
    
He slipped between her folds, but only for
a moment. “You’re very wet. Again. Do I take it that excited you the most?” He
was sure it hadn’t been the crucial moment.

 
    
She bit her lip but didn’t answer.

 
    
He leaned forward to whisper in her ear
while his hand gently stroked along the seam of her pussy lips. “I watched you
up against that wall while he ate her. Your fingers were clenched in your
skirt. You wanted to touch yourself. Why didn’t you?” He pulled back to see her
reaction.

 
    
Her skin was flushed, and the straps of her
gown had slipped off her shoulders. Her neat twist had loosened, and tendrils
of golden hair caressed her nape. A sigh of breath fell from her parted lips
just before she licked them. He wanted to make her come again, wanted to seduce
the orgasm out of her with words and soft caresses instead of slamming her up
against a wall.

 
    
Though that had been particularly
satisfying.

 
    
“You thought about sitting with your sweet
pussy above me.”

 
    
As if she’d lost her voice, she answered
him with a nod.

 
    
He glided across her clitoris, then again,
and finally in a slow circle around it. Her pussy contracted, a droplet of dew
melting against his finger.

 
    
“Why is it different than before?”

 
    
She tilted her head. “Before?” she asked in
a whisper.

 
    
“At home.” He’d gone down on her, she’d
enjoyed it, but she hadn’t been like this.

 
    
“I don’t know.”

 
    
“You know, Virginia. And you will tell me.”
He rubbed her clit full on.

 
    
She gasped and closed her eyes. “This is
fantasy. At home, you’re—” She bit her lip. “It’s not the same at home.”

 
    
Her answer validated what he surmised.
Virginia’s pleasure spiked at the club. She needed the double life to excite
her.

 
    
Entering her, one digit only, he tested her
wetness and heat, then slid back out to take long swipes across the bead of her
clit. Her nails dug into his suit jacket, and she leaned closer until his lips
brushed the bare flesh above her bodice.

 
    
“The couple in the alcove made you the
hottest.”

 
    
“Yes.” The single word hissed on her
exhale.

 
    
Around them a hush had fallen as if
everyone waited to see if they’d get another show. His hand worked beneath the
chiffon, invisible to prying eyes, yet the flush on her skin and the gentle
rock of her hips told their audience everything.

 
    
“Why?”
Tell
me, and I’ll give it to you.

 
    
“It was so private,” she murmured. “Just
the two of them.”

 
    
“Liar,” he whispered. “It was more than
that.”

 
    
She’d masturbated in a cubicle with eight
windows. It wasn’t privacy that turned her on. He also knew he was skating onto
dangerous ice here, his cock rising to a needy ache again. He wanted the taste
of her on his tongue, wanted to make her come screaming, to bury himself inside
her all over again. But more than the swift power of release, he needed to know
what had made Virginia come without a touch.