Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
"Yes!"
I drop to my knees, hauling her legs up over my shoulders. She cries out, clinging to the wall as if she's afraid I'm going to drop her. As if that'll happen. She's right where I want her. That perfect pussy in my face.
"Fuck," I groan, breathing her in. She smells like heaven. I flick my tongue out, setting it flat against the seam of her panties. The damn things cover less than the dress.
"Bronx!"
Her taste hits my tongue like a fucking bomb blast.
I roar like a wild beast, fucklust spiking higher. Jesus Christ. I'm going to eat this girl alive. I snap the bands on her panties, yanking them out of my way. They're standing between me and what I want, and that's not acceptable.
She grinds against my face, chasing something she doesn't even understand. She's greedy for it though, as curious about this as she has been about everything else that's happened here since she tried to sneak in last night. This girl is…fuck. There are no words for her. But she's mine.
I bury my tongue in her cunt, lapping up her juices like a fucking dog. She shouts my name, already on the verge of coming all over my face. She's responsive as hell. I love that. Love knowing that she's as desperate as I am, as greedy.
I spread her legs wide, holding her up against the wall of the elevator as I fuck her with my tongue, taking the taste I've been dying for. Her sweet sounds spill out around us, driving me into a goddamn frenzy. I lick and suck and bite, spearing my tongue into her little fuckhole. I use it like a cock, fucking her with it.
She rides my face, rides my tongue, babbling my name like I'm a god.
"Bronx, I'm, I'm…" She doesn't get to finish the sentence. As soon as she starts it, I press my thumb against her asshole, seaming my lips around her clit. She explodes apart with a single sharp cry, her honey coating my tongue.
I lick up every fucking drop, drinking it down like wine.
She's still shaking when I haul myself to my feet, tug her dress down over her ass, and slam the button on the elevator. The doors slide open a moment later.
A small crowd has gathered outside—members who have VIP access to the top floor. They're dead silent, staring at us. I don't know if they're waiting for the elevator or if they were listening to the show. I don't stop to find out.
"Move," I bark.
They quickly step to the side, giving me room to push through them. I keep her face tucked against my chest, hiding her from view. No one gets to see her like this. No one.
I storm down the hall, cradling her in my arms.
Chapter Six
Bronx
By the time we reach the room at the end of the hall, she's stirring in my arms, coming back to her herself. I carry her inside, locking the door behind us. Unlike most of the club, the two rooms on this end aren't available for use. One belongs to Roman. The other is mine.
I'm here all fucking hours of the night. Sometimes, it's easier to crash on-site for a little while than it is to drive back to my place. I've never brought anyone here. Aside from Roman, his wife, and my brother, Gemma is the only other person who has ever stepped foot in this apartment.
I stride straight down the hall to the bedroom, my steps heavy.
Halfway there, I feel her tongue against my skin.
I grip her ass in my palm, growling. "Keep it up, and you're going to find out what it's like to lose your virginity bent over the kitchen table, Dilemma."
"Kitchen table?" She pops up like a little jack-in-the-box, rumpled and flushed. Far too damn beautiful for words. Her gaze flits all around us, taking in the elegant apartment. "Where are we?"
"My apartment."
"You live here?" Her shocked expression makes me chuckle.
"No, but the club doesn't close until the sun comes up. And then there's a whole list of shit to deal with," I explain. "Sometimes, it's nine or ten before I'm out of here. When I have to be back, it's easier to just crash here."
"Oh. Um, how often do you stay here?"
"Most Friday nights. Aside from the Sterling Rope, there's only one other club in the south like this. That's Dionysus in Nashville."
"There are other BDSM clubs in the south," Gemma protests.
"Plenty," I agree, carrying her down the hall. "But there are only two who cater exclusively to the rich and powerful, Dilemma. You're standing in one of them." I grimace. "More or less."
"Wow." She processes that for a moment and then grins at me. "No wonder you didn't want to let me through the doors. I'm not exactly rich or powerful."