20. Bradley
brADLEY
One of the quiet lounges behind the bar, usually reserved for private parties and functions, serves as the perfect place to take Zira. The dangers of a beautiful woman are imprinted in my mind from my years of falling into the same traps, but something’s different with Zira.
Alcohol warms my veins and her tongue ignites a needy fire across my skin that I’m not strong enough to resist this time.
This time, I’m falling for her, and the first time she kisses me, it’s like I’ve been anchored deep in a peaceful reality where the only two people to exist are her and me.
My heart lifts, fluttering in time to the slow kisses we weave together.
Her arms drape over my shoulders, and I curl one around her waist to keep her against me.
My other hand strokes her cheek, following the flex of her jaw with my fingertips every time we kiss.
“You’re gentler than I expected,” Zira whispers against my lips. “Big, strong man like you and you kiss like I’m fragile.”
“You are fragile,” I murmur back, nudging my nose against hers and deepening our kiss. “Strength isn’t always about force.”
She moans softly and slides both hands into my hair, then brings them down to stroke along either side of my jaw. A final kiss and she steps away, holding my arm so that I turn as she lazily steps away until my back is to the couch. Then she pushes me lightly and I follow her command to sit.
Zira’s dress slips from her bare shoulders like silk, flowing down her curves and kissing every inch of her on the way down.
She’s absolutely gorgeous. Her breasts huddle together in a strapless bra, and I follow the dress down to the curve of her stomach, her wide hips and shapely thighs, and then down to the floor.
It pools there like a puddle, and she steps out of it in just her heels.
The snap of elastic draws my attention back up and with her hands behind her back, her bra loosens around her breasts and joins her dress on the floor.
The reveal of her dusky nipples, small and perked as if already eager to reach me, makes my mouth water, and a lazy smile slips across Zira’s lips.
“Like what you see?”
“The fact that you even have to ask me that…” I say huskily.
“Come here.” I hold out my hand, and Zira sways toward me as if she’s putting on a show.
Part of me considers stopping because Zira’s still performing for me, regardless of whether she realizes it or not, but I can’t resist her a second time, not right now.
She ends up in my lap, heated weight right over my crotch, and my stirring dick immediately hardens like a rock underneath it.
Zira definitely feels it, judging by how her hips wiggle down against me.
Together, we shed my shirt, and Zira runs her hands all over my body, from pecs to abs and back again while trailing her nails until every part of me is shivering and alert to her touch.
“Wow,” she breathes. “You’re built like a fucking truck. I almost want to know how much you weigh.”
“Enough to know you’ll snap under me,” I tease as I caress her jaw and bring her in for another kiss.
Those are the last words we speak. Once we kiss, nothing else needs to be spoken as the heat rising between us speaks for itself.
I can’t keep my hands off her. Stroking her bare back brings both my hands to her shapely ass where I grip handfuls of her and draw her hard against me, dragging her weight against my trapped cock.
Her tongue enters my mouth, and she repeatedly strokes through my hair while curving her body into me so every roll of her hips drags her nipples against my bare skin and turns my mind to mush.
I don’t know where to focus and for a split second, I simply sit and enjoy having her in my arms. The sweetness of her lips, the softness of her skin, her supple breasts cushioning against my chest.
Then I roll us. Zira ends up on the couch with a squeak, and I slot almost perfectly between her spread thighs.
Keeping the kisses slow and deep, I link fingers with one of Zira’s hands and press it down onto the couch above her head.
My other hand joins hers in fiddling with my pants and undoing the zipper, button, and belt in order to push them down past my hips.
The only interruption comes from seeking out the small tube of lube in my back pocket, and luckily, Zira doesn’t ask why I have it.
She doesn’t need a breakdown of how handy something like that is when a gun jams or for preserving fingerprints on the handle of a blade.
She’s happy I have it, and that’s all that matters.
With skilled fingers that leave me with my own quiet questions, Zira takes the small tube from me and with one hand twists the cap off, squeezes some onto her palm, and then discards it.
A second later, her hand warms the lube against the shaft of my cock and her touch draws a deep, soft moan from somewhere in my chest while my hips punch forward into her touch.
She smirks proudly and when we next kiss, her teeth sink lightly into my lower lip and I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth with a low, soft groan.
Her hand moves back and forth from shaft to crown and she coats my cock in lube, smirking the entire time.
This lasts until we break for air and our eyes meet.
‘Wow’ she mouths at me, as any word she might have actually tried to say melts into a soft moan as I pull her panties aside, line myself up, and gently push into her with a slow, controlled roll of my hips.
Zira wipes her hand on my thigh and tips her head back, her eyes fluttering closed.
Every inch I ease inside her is painted across her body like a private show.
Her throat trembles, the hollow of her neck deepens as she breaths in hard, her lower lip quivers and curls into her mouth, and her fingernails dig into the meat of my shoulder as I press deeper and deeper into her hot, tight heat.
It’s almost too much.
The urge to break my rule and simply go to town and fuck her until all she can remember is my name is strong until Zira’s hand joins with mine, tightening as if she’s desperately holding on to me.
Sliding my other hand down her body, I press firmly on her lower abdomen just above her mound and hold there as I bottom out and our hips press flush together.
Zira moans and hooks one leg over my hip, the other splayed to the side, resting on the floor. A sheen of sweat glitters over her skin and her core clenches hard around me, and that’s my cue.
I fuck her exactly as I mean to, with long, slow strokes that take my entire length out of her until only the crown rests inside, then back in until our hips are flush.
Each thrust is careful and measured, long enough for her to take a breath but firm enough to fuck a gasp or a moan right past her beautiful lips and into my mouth.
My body rolls like a wave and my head dips down to her shoulder, resting there as pleasure coils far too fast in my lower body.
She moves her arm around my shoulder and slides her hand into my hair, cradling the back of my head while lifting her hips to meet each of my thrusts.
There’s an urgency to her movements, as if she expects me to break my rhythm and fuck her harder and faster than she’s ever been fucked before.
I stay slow. I let her feel every single inch of me.
I kiss her throat, her shoulder, and her chest, caress and massage her breasts, roll her nipples between my fingers and slide those same fingers down past her navel and between us to her clit that throbs hot under my touch.
A single stroke, and Zira arches up against me with a whimper and tosses her head back and forth.
God, she’s fucking beautiful. Her cunt hugs me like a glove, and every single ripple of her body ends up in her core tightening around me. Her soft gasps turn into open-mouthed pants, and she whimpers openly.
Then, she moans my name and it’s the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
“Bradley!” Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling hard at the strands while her leg on my hip tightens like a vise.
Her body rolls and on my next firm thrust in, Zira comes with a muted cry that she buries in my throat, and her grip on my hand grows painful, but it’s enough to send me over the edge and before I know it, I’m spilling deep inside her with every gasp escaping me like a prayer that I can do this all over again.
“Fuck,” Zira gasps against me after her body trembles and ripples so fiercely, it’s a wonder she didn’t shake apart completely. “That was…” She kisses me again on the lips and then my jaw, then she flops back on the couch panting. “Wow.”
“Wow, indeed,” I mirror, gently easing my cock out of her and enjoying the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.
“That was…” She pauses suddenly and points across the room to the mini-fridge. “Is there water in there?”
I lazily kiss her shoulder and follow her arm. “Should be.”
Zira pulls away from and stands on wobbly legs, then reaches for her dress but after folding it once, she abandons it and heads to the fridge.
I can’t take my eyes off the way her ass sways back and forth with her panties still awkwardly twisted to one side. Even the curve of her back is alluring as she bends over and opens the fridge. My softening cock jumps, and I’m forced to look away until she returns with two glasses of water.
“Here.” Zira pants softly and hands me a glass, then collapses back down on the couch next to me. “Holy shit.”
“Good?” I ask, as if every sound I just pulled out of her wasn’t clear enough as to how much she enjoyed being fucked nice and slow.
“Honestly?” She lifts her own glass to her lips and drinks quickly as if she’s completely parched. “I’ve never fucked someone like that before.”
“Like what?”
She lifts one shoulder, and her chest still heaves as she lies there.
“So… intense, I guess. I’m used to quick and fast, pretty rough when it needs to be, y’know?
But you were…” Zira’s head rolls to the side, and she rests her cheek against my bare shoulder, gazing at me with surprising warmth in her eyes. “It was nice. Really nice.”
I drain my water in three gulps and set the glass aside. “Isn’t it better when you want it rather than when you think it is owed?”
Her brows dip slightly and she glances away. “That’s really important to you, isn’t it?”
“It should be for everyone. This world is filled with transactions at every corner. Something akin to intimacy? Well, it’s…
it’s…” The word escapes me as a deep sense of relaxation washes over me.
Sleep feels like the best idea right now, and with Zira warming the space next to me, how can I resist?
I blink and suddenly, I’m opening my eyes slowly to a dark room with Frank’s concerned face drifting above me.
“Boss?”
“Frank?” His name croaks out of me and a curl of confusion swirls in my chest. My mouth is dry, my tongue heavy in my mouth, and my arm painfully absent the warmth of Zira that I swear was there a second ago.
“Shit, you had me worried.” Frank sighs in relief and steps back, giving me space to push myself up from my slouch.
My back and my neck complain after being stuck in the same position for… I can’t tell how long it’s been. Behind him, Valentina stands at the door looking incredibly unimpressed.
“What happened?” I ask slowly. “I swear I was just here with—”
“Zirconia?” Valentina cuts in. “She played you, Bradley. She drugged you and fled.”
I drag my hand down my face and groan softly as the fallen, empty glass beside me comes into focus. “Fuck.”
Touché, Zira.