“You shouldn’t be here,” I hush with less bravado than I had a few minutes ago on stage.
“And you shouldn’t let every Tom, Dick, and Harry touch your body in the ways I just had to endure watching, but here we are, Scar.”
“It’s our job.”
“Really? Is making every man out there hard a part of your job description, too?”
Absentmindedly I lick my lips as his eyes fall to them, making my heart speed up.
“My job is to entertain. That’s all.”
“Your job is giving me blue balls.”
A weak, stammered laugh leaves my lips as he draws closer to me.
“There are plenty of women just outside this room that can help you with that,” I retort back with a dismal shrug.
“I’m not interested in what they have to offer.”
His hand cups the front of my throat and leans my head back to his chest, leaving me no option but to stare up at those silver eyes of his. I can feel his warm breath blow on my cheeks. It’s taking everything in me not to close my eyes and just give in to the sensation. He rubs his thumb over my red lips, purposely leaving streaks on my face, making my insides quiver with want.
“I’m not sure which version of you I hate more,” he rasps, his eyes burning with desire. “The church mouse afraid of her own shadow, or this painted-up goddess.”
“That’s too bad. I hate every version of you in equal measure,” I quip back, but my voice comes out too ragged to be convincing.
“Do you really?” he taunts, reading the lie in my eyes.
“Yes, I do.”
“Hmm,” he hums, his hold on my neck still firm and unyielding.
He throws the wet wipe in my lap onto the vanity and turns me around in the chair in one smooth move. I gulp at the speed at which he’s able to turn me to face him while still keeping his hold on my throat. I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Easton’s vast experience of dealing with the opposite sex is well-documented. Each gossiped sexual escapade I heard over the years testified to how he knew his way around a woman’s body. As he continues to make mine burn with one single touch, I realize how true the rumors were.
“So, it’s only hate you feel, is it?” he taunts, with a cocked brow looking down at me.
“Yes,” I lie.
He smiles. Almost as if I just gave him a present.
“Let’s put that to the test, shall we?” His tone is a lethal warning.
As he begins to run his hand down my chest, ever so slowly, until it finds one sensitive nipple, I realize just what type of danger I’m in.
“This doesn’t look like hate to me,” he goads when my nipple turns into a fine cut diamond, responding to his touch.
“That has nothing to do with you. You said so yourself. For the past hour, I’ve been fondled by my dancers, so it’s only natural my body is still reacting to it.”
A sneer appears on his majestic face, and fear strikes me, warning that maybe I shouldn’t provoke the devil in front of me so carelessly. He leans in closer to my face, his knee parting my legs to the side with full force. My throat tightens, and my mouth dries at the threat in his eyes.
“So, all of this is just a natural reaction? Just plain biology?”
“Yes.”
He licks his lips, making it my turn to be infatuated by them. Easton’s upper lip is shaped into a perfect V, pointing at his full bottom one—plump and deliciously bitable. I swallow dryly, trying desperately not to lean in and do just that when his hand begins to trail up my thigh through the slit of my dress. He raises the dress just enough to see the wet spot on my panties.
“This doesn’t look like I don’t affect you.”
“Disgust is all you’ll get from me.”
When his thumb begins to rub against my damp fabric, I stifle the moan that craves to be released from my throat. I hate how my body rats me out and shows him just what type of liar I am.
“Your pussy tells me differently.”
My face is stone-cold even if my body betrays me so visibly.
“You’re a stubborn little thing. I’ll give you that,” he taunts again with a sinful smirk that is all too Easton.
I lock down my features, so he doesn’t see that his words affect me just as much as his hand does. Unfortunately, a gasp flees from me when he grabs my knees and pulls me to the edge of my seat, my ass almost falling to the floor.
“What are you doing?” I stammer as he opens my legs wider and takes a knee on the floor.
A devilish grin crests his lips while his eyes are focused on my wet core.
“I want to taste your hate. See if it’s as strong as you say.”
I bite my inner cheek as he runs his hands up both thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He stares me down, waiting for me to tell him to stop, but when I don’t, another wicked smile shows itself. His eyes are still fixed on mine as he slips my panties to the side. His thumb plays around with my pussy lips, my arousal coating his fingers. He pulls his thumb away from my slit, leaving me painfully bereft, only to suck on his digit in front of me, intensifying my desire.
“Your pussy doesn’t taste like you hate me, Scar. Quite the contrary. It tastes like it wants my cock.”
I bite my tongue so hard that I taste the bitter tang of iron coat the walls of my mouth.
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” I deadpan with all the self-assurance I can muster.
“Liar,” he quips in amusement, before bowing his head completely toward my pussy and taking a big lap.
My head falls back of its own accord as Easton eats me out. His tongue is just as maddening as the man himself. His sure strokes are intent on leaving me in a puddled mess, and the groan that escapes him is just the soundtrack I need to have me rocking my pussy shamelessly into his face.
“Fuck!” he growls.
A loud shriek passes my lips when he pulls at my dress and rips it up the middle, eviscerating my panties off me next with the same animalistic force. He goes back to lapping at my sensitive folds, nibbling at my clit with renewed vigor. My breasts become heavy and in need of the same care that he’s lavishing on my pussy. Brazenly, I grab onto them, tweaking my nipples just the way I would want him to. A frustrated moan leaves my mouth when my gloves don’t allow the friction that I desire. When Easton’s eyes raise to mine and see what I’m trying to do, all his self-control goes out the window. He rises to his full height, lifting me off the chair and pushing it away with such force it hits the wall with a shuddering thud. I place my open palms on the vanity behind me to keep steady, but my knees turn weak with the burning gaze he gives me.
“Hate me all you want, Scar, but you’re going to do it with my cock inside you,” he roars, unzipping his pants and springing free his engorged shaft.
It looks angry and huge, making my eyes bug out of their sockets. I’m not sure that thing is going to fit in my less-than-experienced pussy. He slips the remnants of my ruined dress off my shoulders, dropping it to the floor, then unsnaps my bra next, ensuring there isn’t a piece of fabric standing in his way, aside from my gloves and high heels. He spins me around, bending my back in a way that has my ass exposed to him, and then he pulls at my chin, forcing me to look at him through the mirror.