Filthy Desire (The Dirty Kings of Vegas) - Page 9

She bites her lip and squeezes her eyes tight shut.

Her saying nothing makes me more and more suspicious. Maybe I misjudged her. What is her story, anyway? Is she the help or what?

Anger rises in me. Impatient, I slap her again. Right on the hot, red mark. This time I take a grip of her cheek. God damn, I want her so bad. Her hot flesh is soft under my stinging palm.

The crotch of her panties is soaked. The heat of her pussy warms the tips of my fingers as they curl around her ass and touch the top of her thigh.

Her soft panties drip so much, the fabric clings to every fold of her tempting lips. The outlines are too near to my fingers. I can’t hold back from swiping my fingertips up the length of her pussy.

She shakes and moans. I lick and suck my fingers.

She reaches back to grab my wrist. Of course, she’s right. I should not have allowed myself to get so carried away. If I lose control, there’s no knowing what will happen.

Then she surprises me.

With her hand shaking and her eyes glistening wet, she pulls my fingers to her. Parts her lips. Opens her mouth and licks my fingers. Then she takes them into her mouth.

Sucks them. Sinfully. Lasciviously.

“Oh, you are a bad girl.” She could be doing it to distract me. And I couldn’t deny it. I am distracted.

“But I have to know. Did you come to my room for Jack?”

At last, she looks in my eye. Her head shakes. Hard.

Can I trust her? My gut says ‘yes.’ My cock tells me another kind of ‘yes.’

I slap her ass again. Smack on the red mark. Harder this time. Her flesh is hot as it ripples under the blow. Her eyes light up and shine as she lets out a tiny, strained whimper.

Her eyes gleam like she wants more. And she’s got me totally confused now.

Her breasts bounce against my leg. She clings to my thigh.

In a tiny voice, she tells me, “You can do anything with me. Anything you want.”

Her eyes plead and her voice cracks, “I want you to.”

“Why are you here? What are you doing in my room?”

She flinches, like she’s afraid. “I shouldn’t have come. I know. But I wanted to be close to you. You make me feel safe.”

“You don’t feel safe in this house?”

“God, no.”

And she tells me her story.

Her father brought her up. He worked hard, and she adored him. He worked for Jack and they had a good life. Plenty of money. Always living on a ledge, though.

Reading between the lines, her father knew it could all come crashing down in a heartbeat, but he tried to keep it from her. Shield her. Protect her.

He told her he had a share in a bar. Whatever happened, that would come good. It would be their backstop. She figured it was a dream. Something he talked up to make her feel good. He was full of stories like that.

She’s highly intuitive, so she saw behind the curtain. And she loved him.

Then one night, he vanished.

Jack took her in. Said he owed it to the friendship he had with her father. At first, he treated her well.

Then, one night, he wanted to treat her too well.

“He was lonely at the time,” she frowns as she tells me, “He might have been happy with a cuddle, maybe a couple of kisses. That’s what I thought. I decided that he’d been good to me, so I’d let him hold me.” Her face flinches at the memory and she looks up, pleading.

She blinks, hard. “But then he reached out. My reflexes kicked in.” She shakes her head, like she might make the memory shake out.

“I slapped him. Hard. Across the face, and I screamed.”

She takes a long breath. “I thought about it over and over. I could have gotten it completely wrong, Liam. It could all be my fault.”

It’s a moment before I notice my fists are clenched tight. I shake my head. “No, butterfly. If you got it wrong, Jack would have understood. If he didn’t sympathize, then you got it right.”

She says, “His big, ugly driver ran into the room to see if everything was okay. Jack snarled at him to get out. Then he glowered at me and he ran away. He avoided me for days.”

I hold her hand.

She looks up, pleading. “I tried to talk to Jack about it. I wanted to tell him it would be okay. It didn’t matter. But he was never the same again after that. It was the next day when he told me, I was only here for Aaron. He would have me and that was all Jack needed me for now. Since then, he treated me more like a servant than a member of the family.”

Tags: Frankie Love Erotic
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