Chapter 12
Ryleigh
What just happened?
I went downstairs to see if the bar was still open because I couldn’t sleep.
One minute I’m watching some blonde practically attacking Angus—and the next he’s got his tongue down my throat.
Except it wasn’t cut and dried like that.
I liked it.
A lot.
The sexual tension between us is always there, simmering beneath the surface, and it seems like it’s time to do something about it.
This is a terrible idea—I already know that.
But I don’t care.
I haven’t been with anyone in months, since my last boyfriend and I broke up, so I’m due. And sleeping with Angus? I don’t care about repercussions—I just want to experience it. Kiss him some more. Lose myself in something that isn’t work-related.
Just one night to release all the frustration of the last few months.
Right or wrong, if he knocks on that door?—
The knock comes about five minutes after I get back to my room, and I stare at the door for a second.
Holy shit.
This is happening.
Without hesitation, I check the peephole and then open the door.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” He holds up a bottle of Cristal champagne. “Do you drink champagne?”
“When I can afford it.”
“Then I guess you’re in luck.”
I move aside to let him in, and he walks over to the dresser. He puts down the bottle of champagne and then leans against the wall, crooking his finger at me.
“Come here, pretty girl.”
Shit .
There’s the voice again.
All deep and swoony and sexy.
If it were anyone else, I’d laugh at the idea of him bossing me around.
But Angus?
Yeah, my feet are already moving.
When I’m a fraction of an inch away from him, he puts a finger under my chin, lifting it so that we’re looking into each other’s eyes.
“You sure this is what you want? Because there’s no romance here, Ryleigh. No dating. No relationship. No nothing but sex.”
“What makes you think I want anything beyond sex? Women enjoy getting physical too.”
“I’m just making sure.” He pulls a couple of condoms out of his pocket and tosses them on the bed. “Take your clothes off.”
I squint and cock my head. “I’m okay with just sex—but if you’re not planning to put any effort into it, then it’s not worth my time. I have a toy that gets me off very nicely—with zero drama.”
His eyes gleam as he ignores my attempt at a jab. “You have a toy? With you?”
“I don’t leave home without it,” I tease.
He smiles back. “Get that out. Then take your clothes off.”
“You seem to like bossing me around.”
“You like it too.” He pats me on the ass. “Go on. I’m going to open the champagne while you do that.”
And for some reason, I do exactly what he says.
I dig my vibrator out of my luggage, set it on the nightstand, and then strip out of the shorts and tank top I’ve been wearing all day. My bra and panties are next, and when I look up, he’s devouring me with his eyes.
“That’s really pretty,” he says gruffly.
“Which part?” I ask in a husky voice.
I’m not particularly shy or easily embarrassed, but I need to hear Angus tell me exactly what he likes about me.
“Well, it starts with the hair.” He takes a step toward me, the now open champagne bottle in his hand. “Redheads are definitely my thing. Especially when it’s long, so I have something to hold on to while I fuck you from behind.”
Yum.
That makes me squirm.
“And those long legs of yours have me imagining them up over my shoulders while I go down on you…”
He comes closer, and I’m rooted in place, my body on high alert.
“Your breasts are the perfect size—they’ll fit nicely in my hands—and I can’t wait to suck those fat nipples into my mouth.”
The spot between my legs is drenched, and my breath has gotten a little choppy.
“Turn around,” he says, pausing just inches away from me. “And let me see that round little ass.”
I turn so I’m facing away from him and I can practically feel his gaze on me.
“Oh, yeah… would you let me fuck that pretty ass?”
I gulp.
I’ve never done that before.
My hesitation must speak volumes because his voice softens just a bit. “Don’t worry, baby—I won’t do anything to hurt you. We’d work up to that.”
“I’ve, uh, never done anal.”
“That’s okay. I’m perfectly happy with your pussy.”
He puts an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him, my back to his front.
“Open your mouth.” He lifts the champagne bottle and I realize what he’s going to do.
He pours a slow stream of the fizzy liquid into my mouth and I swallow a couple of times.
“You ever suck a cock with your mouth full of champagne?”
I shake my head.
“Get on your knees, baby.” He reaches onto the bed and grabs a pillow, tossing it down. “There you go.”
I turn to face him, our eyes locking as I slowly drop to my knees.
I never do this.
I usually find it demeaning and uncomfortable—but for some reason, I don’t hesitate. I want to do it with Angus. I don’t mind the act of sucking a penis, it’s the part where I’m on my knees that I have a fundamental problem with.
Except there’s something erotic about doing it for Angus.
“Unbuckle my pants,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
I quickly undo the button and drag his zipper down.
Jesus. He’s commando underneath and his cock is… bigger than I’m used to. There is no way in hell I’m getting all of that into my mouth.
“Pull my pants down some,” he says.
I do as I’m told, his eyes still on mine.
“Now open your mouth but don’t swallow.” He pours a small amount of champagne into my mouth. “Now suck.”
This is the sexiest blow job I’ve ever given, and we’ve barely started.
I keep my head tilted back so the champagne doesn’t pour out as he pushes a couple of inches into my mouth.
“That’s a good girl… that feels so good…” He doesn’t try to force his way in, just moving an inch or so in and out.
I wrap my hands around him and stroke along the shaft, closing my lips tightly around it so as not to spill the champagne. It’s more difficult this way, but more fun too. The bubbles tickle my throat as I open as wide as I can. He slips in a little deeper, and I realize this is only half.
Taking the whole thing probably won’t happen but I suddenly want to try.
“Swallow,” he says, as if reading my mind.
But instead of trying to fuck my mouth, he lifts the champagne bottle again and my mouth opens of its own volition.
“Take a little more this time,” he encourages. “Don’t worry if you can’t take it all, just do what you’re doing.”
So I suck harder, bobbing my head as I take another inch. He’s already hitting the back of my throat and I’m not sure whether I’m going to gag or swallow again.
He moves one hand down to my neck, gently closing around it, his thumb moving around to the front.
“You can take a little more,” he says softly. “Swallow and then relax. I’ll help you.”
With this thumb stroking back and forth on the front of my throat, his cock firmly between my lips, he eases in a little deeper. He glides back a little and then pushes forward, doing it over and over, until I realize I’m deep throating him.
“Ah, fuck, that’s beautiful, baby… I’m gonna come right down your throat… but I want you looking at me—that’s a good girl.” He thrusts deeper, and I almost gag again, but the look in his eyes makes me tingle with need. And pride. And pure lust.
He growls, throwing back his head as he shoots off into my mouth.
His fingers dig into the hair at the back of my neck, holding me firmly as he spurts, and tears spring to my eyes as I gag. But he doesn’t let go and I don’t want him to. This might be the most erotic thing I’ve ever done, and I never want it to end. Even if I’m crying. Even if my makeup is running.
“Fuck.” He releases me so abruptly I fall forward.
But he’s there, reaching out to grab my shoulders and gently pull me to my feet.
“That was perfect,” he whispers against my hair. “You were perfect.”
“I never did that before either…” I whisper back.
“Was I too rough?”
“No.”
“Did you like it?” He lifts my chin, forcing me to look at him again.
I nod. “Very much.”
“Then get on the bed, baby. We’re nowhere close to done. I need that vibrator you mentioned.”
I point to where I left it on the nightstand, and he motions for me to get on the bed before stepping out of his jeans. He pulls off his T-shirt and I’m momentarily mesmerized. He’s still semi-hard, his cock bobbing against his groin, and his body is perfection.
Tall and tan, with broad shoulders that taper into lean hips and a six-pack that makes my mouth water all over again.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
He takes a pull from the bottle of champagne.
“Lie down and spread your legs. It’s time for me to reciprocate.”
Sweet Jesus.