Chapter 21 #2
‘no’. Although, I honestly don’t know what you see
in Moira. She seems a little mousy to me.”
I close my eyes,
take in a deep breath and, when I open them back up, I turn my stare
onto Clint. “Don’t you ever fucking talk about Moira like
that again. Don’t you even think about touching her. If I even
see you so much as glance at her again, I will fucking end your life,
you miserable piece of shit.”
Clint nods his head
vigorously in understanding, fear having diminished the drunken glaze
in his eyes. I release my hold on his throat, and his hand comes up
to rub at his skin.
Cara starts laughing
behind me, and it gets louder as I can hear her walk closer. Her
fingers come to the back of my neck, and she scrapes her nails along
my skin. I jerk my head away from her and step back, looking at her
warily.
“Oh, this is
delicious,” Cara says in a mocking voice. She walks over to her
brother, wraps her arms around his neck, and runs her tongue from his
collarbone to his jaw. “Don’t you see, Clint? Zach and
Moira are fucking each other. That’s why he’s so bent out
of shape.”
Clint’s eyes
go wide but he doesn’t say anything, my warning about Moira
apparently still fresh in his mind.
“See,”
she croons to her brother as she strokes his chest with her hand. His
arm goes possessively around her waist, and he pulls her in tight to
him. “He doesn’t deny it.”
My fingers curl
inward to dig my nails into my palms, and I’ve never wanted to
do violence to a woman before… until this very moment.
“Let’s
go, darling,” Cara says, taking Clint by the hand to lead him
toward the door. She turns her head toward me and gives me an
appraising look. “This has been very insightful, Zach. I’m
sure Uncle Randall would be very interested to know that Moira’s
professionalism isn’t quite as professional as he took it.”
I never hesitate for
a second. “Just as I’m sure he’d be interested to
know that you and your brother are sick fucks that are screwing each
other.”
Cara blanches, so I
know I hit the nail on the head. Clint pulls her by the hand toward
the door. “Let’s go, Cara.”
“Stay the fuck
away from Moira,” I warn both of them. “You do not want
to incur my wrath.”
Neither of them
responds as they walk out the door, and I let out a sigh of relief
when they’re gone. I walk back to the couch and sink down onto
it. A tiny laugh escapes my lips, and then turns into a full-fledged
guffaw.
I can’t
believe that just fucking happened. I can’t believe those
twisted fucks propositioned Moira and me like that, and I can’t
believe I refrained from killing Clint. Moira would be so proud of
me.
Standing back up, I
walk over to the mini-bar and pull another beer out of the fridge. I
twist the cap, throw it in the garbage, and take a huge gulp.
The door to the
private room opens, and Moira walks through. She dressed tonight like
she wanted to come dancing… like she wanted to show me the way
her body could move. Her dress is silver and slinky, tying around her
neck and plunging deep down her chest. The hem is short, barely
covering her ass, but hangs loosely so it swishes as she walks. She
paired it with a pair of black heels with wide, leather straps around
her ankles, and when I first saw them, I thought they would look
fucking magnificent resting on my shoulders while I pounded away
inside of her.
All thoughts of
Clint and Cara melt away, and my body reacts as it normally does when
I see Moira. Whether she’s in jeans and a T-shirt or a
fuck-me-in-the-club dress, I get a raging hard-on for her.
As she closes the
door behind her, I set the beer down on the bar and stride toward the
vision before me. Her eyes smile at me and she opens her mouth to say
something, but I cut her off by bringing my lips to hers. I give her
a punishing kiss filled with lust and need, plunging my tongue in
deeply and pulling her hips inward so I can grind my erection against
her.
She pushes back at
me slightly and gasps, “What’s gotten in to you?”
“I want to
fuck you… right now,” I tell her and kiss her again. She
indulges me for a moment but then pushes at my chest once more.
“No… we
can’t. Clint and Cara could come in. One of the waitresses or
something.”
Grabbing Moira by
the hand, I lead her to the balcony, opening the double doors and
letting the pulsing music overwhelm me. I pull Moira in tight to my
body and put my lips near her ear so she can hear me. “Clint
and Cara are gone and aren’t coming back. And I am going
to fuck you right now.”
Moira jerks in my
arms, not over the surprise that Clint and Cara are gone but by the
urgent need in my voice. “What? No, we can’t. This is a
public place.”
“This is a
private VIP room,” I tell her, and then lean in to claim her
mouth again. She sinks into me, dueling her tongue with mine, her
fingertips digging into the flesh at my biceps.
She capitulates so
easily, and I love that about her. That she never thinks to deny a
single desire for her that I have.
“The couch,”
she mutters against my lips.
“Too far
away,” I growl back at her, tearing my mouth from hers. Turning
her around in my arms, I face her out toward the open nightclub below
us. Laser lights and writhing dancers fill the scene. I glance around
at the other balconies, but because the lights don’t filter up
this far, it’s fairly shadowed. Still out in the open, but dark
and secluded.
Just fucking
perfect.
Pressing my front up
against Moira’s back, I push her forward until her belly comes
to rest against the wrought-iron railing on the small, two-foot
balcony just outside the double doors. Her upper back burns against
me as I step in closer to her, making sure she can feel my erection
that rests against her lower back.
I rub my nose softly
against the back of her head, smelling the shampoo I told her to buy.
Leaning to the side to kiss her neck, I graze my teeth along her
tender flesh. She shivers in my arms and tilts her head to the side
to give me better access, her hands gripping the iron railing with
white knuckles.
“I want you to
just stand there… spread your legs apart for me just a bit
more.”
Her chest heaves
with anticipation, and she moves to do my bidding. I reach down and
touch my fingers to the back of one thigh, then skim them upward
until I slip under the hem of her dress, around the rounded globe of
one beautiful ass cheek, which is deliciously bare feeling.
Leaning down to the
side, I take a peek, thinking she didn’t wear any underwear and
thinking that is the hottest thing ever, but I’m rewarded with
a thin, black strip of lace that crawls up the middle of her ass.
Ahhh… a
thong. No, that is fucking hot right there.
Looping my finger
under the back strap of her underwear, I drag downward, pulling the
material out from between the cheeks of her ass and inching it to the
side, leaving her smooth pussy open and vulnerable to me. My finger
takes a swipe between those lips, and I feel her honeyed wetness.
I fucking feel like
I’m dying right now, so insatiable is my need for her. I can’t
wait another minute so I hastily undo my pants and pull my cock out,
ignoring the bite of my zipper that sits just below my balls. Oh
well, a little pain always makes it interesting.
I dip my knees and
guide my shaft to Moira’s slick entrance, pushing firmly
against her and sinking balls deep in one fluid move.
Moira sucks in a
huge gulp of air and says, “Oh, God. I can’t believe
we’re doing this.”
I smile and kiss the
back of her head, wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her
upright and placing the other one on the balcony railing for balance.
I pump my hips
against her, having to keep my knees bent for the right angle. If
anyone were to look up, and if they were able to see us through the
shadow and haze, it might look like I was just standing behind my
girlfriend in an intimate embrace. Or it might look like I was slowly
fucking her from behind.
I’m not sure,
nor do I care.
I mean…
Moira’s fully clothed and her skirt is loose enough that it
still covers her front nicely. Other than the slow grind of my hips
against her, which may look like I’m swaying to the music—or
it may look like I’m fucking her from behind—I’m
not sure it’s that obvious what we’re doing.
Not that I could
give a fuck. I’m too lost within the rapture of her body to
care, and nothing could pull me away from her at this very moment.
I slowly push in and
out of Moira, my breathing ragged and raw. We both stare down at the
dancers, lost in our own thoughts and pleasures.
After pushing in
extra deep, Moira’s head falls back and lands on my shoulder,
her eyes closed, her mouth hanging open while exquisite pleasure
coats her face. But she’s not making enough noise for me. She’s
too afraid to let loose, even though no one could hear her over the
music.
I drop the arm
that’s banded around her waist and snake my fingers under the
front of her dress. Dipping below the edge of her thong, I
immediately find her swollen clit, where I rub at it softly in tune
with the beat of my thrusts.
Moira’s cries
out, “Fuck, Zach,” and her hips start circling against my
hand.
Now… if
anyone is looking right now, and maybe they are, they’d know
without a doubt that we’re fucking. The prospect is thrilling
to me.
One of Moira’s
hands lock around my wrist and her head pops up. Leaning to the side,
without even missing one fucking thrusting beat, I see her eyes are
open wide with fear and pleasure.
“Stop,”
she pleads. “Someone might see.”
“No fucking
way,” I tell her, and I start moving a little faster, both my
cock and my finger against her clit.
“Oh, God, oh
God, Oh God,” she chants and even though she’s terrified
of being seen, her hips still buck in a frenzy against me.
“Tell me
you’re close, baby,” I growl urgently in her ear.
“Because I am getting ready to fucking unload, and I can’t
hold it back.”
Moira’s head
nods furiously at me and I start slamming into her, pushing her hard
into the balcony railing. I feel her body squeeze around my cock and,
once again, her head slams back into my shoulder as she cries out in
orgasmic surrender. Tremors course through her body, and I feel a
flood of more wetness from the walls of her pussy coat my cock.
And fuck… I’m
coming. I slam deep one more time and close my eyes, concentrating on
the feel of Moira spasming around me while my cock continues to
unload my semen into her.
I issue another low
groan and pull her hips back into mine, lodging my cock deeper yet.
Wrapping one arm around her stomach and another across her chest, I
squeeze her tight to me. We stay like that a moment… or ten…
time seems to stop for both of us. I don’t hear the music; the
flashing lights and gyrating bodies mean absolutely nothing to me.
All I care about in
this moment is this women wrapped in my arms and the feel of her warm
pussy still gently holding my cock.
Nuzzling down into
her neck, which smells like wild orchids and spring rain, I whisper
to her, “I don’t think I can ever stop with you, Moira.”