Beg Me - Page 7

He laughs at the accusation. “No, just a business man with a request,” he says.

I’m unsure how I should react. “A request?” I ask.

“Don’t worry. I don’t kill people,” he says.

A soft giggle escapes my lips. But my throat is tight, and every beat of the heart makes my knees bend. “Fine. What’s your request?” I ask.

“Play with yourself,” he says.

I stare at him, eyes growing wide. Mouth closed, I step back.

“Do it for me,” he commands.

My heart is racing. This is beyond wrong, but I’m not running away.

“I don’t even know you,” I say.

“It’s just a little fun,” he says.

“This is getting creepy,” I murmur.

But he doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t have to care. He’s got a five thousand-dollar watch and an expensive suit. No doubt he’s got a luxury car outside waiting to bring him to his mansion in the city.

Why the hell would a guy like him care about anything?

“Play with yourself,” he repeats. “And when you’re finished, give me your panties.”

I’m shocked. I’m appalled. And I hate to admit it, but I’m actually turned on. This is a fantasy come to life.

I exhale and stammer. “Okay, now you’re being really—”

“Do it,” he repeats, cutting me off. I glance up at him like a lost puppy and duck into an even deeper corner of the lobby.

“What if someone sees?” I ask him, looking around. There’s no one in sight. The area is blocked off by a few cones. No one knows I’m back here.

“It’s your father’s hotel, right? You’re a big girl. Nothing will happen to you,” he says. “Now, spread those beautiful thighs.”

I gulp hard and keep my eyes on him. I sit against the wall and open my legs a little. My dress hangs over, covering me, as I place my hand further between my legs.

“I want to see you,” he says, calmly. “Show me.”

I’m biting my lip, shaking with excitement and fear, and just about every other emotion related. I lift my dress up slowly, until it’s pushed up to my navel. My white panties are tight around my hips.

I did not expect to be doing this tonight.

When I place two fingers across the center of the fabric, he smiles and nods.

“Good,” he says, gliding his hand over the bulge in his suit pants.

His cock is, well, huge. That’s from down here. I don’t want to even know what it would like in front of my mouth.

He’s a big man, all muscle. Though his clothes cover his body, I can tell he keeps himself in shape.

“There you go,” he says. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Maybe not. But I have a feeling something else is…

“No,” I say. “What else do you want me to do?”

Tags: Penelope Woods Billionaire Romance
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