A Match Made in Vegas Read Online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement1

Advertisement2

I bring my hands to his shoulders, and I use him for leverage as I rise onto my knees, bringing my chest inches from his mouth.

He looks up at me with all that need and attention and desire, but he doesn't break. He doesn't come close.

I lower and raise myself a few more times, then I settle onto his lap, and I look down at him as I roll slow circles over him.

He's hard, beneath me. I can feel him through my panties and his slacks. I want more of that. His hardness against my softness. My body yielding to his. The two of us joined together, in perfect harmony.

Or like this. In some other, even more dangerous game.

The friction sends pleasure through my body. My nipples ping. My sex clenches. For a moment, my eyes flutter closed. I try to contain all the bliss.

But that's not what I'm doing here.

I blink my eyes open and look at him. We agreed to a dance. That's the only rule.

I don't have to play fair.

I don't know why I want to win so badly. Maybe because he's always in control. Maybe because I never win anything. Or maybe because I want to tease him.

All of the above, probably.

I stand and roll my dress all the way off my hips.

His eyes go wide as the fabric falls to the floor.

I step out of it, and I move between his legs. I place my hands on his thighs, I push his legs apart, and I drop to my knees between him.

Fuck, this is a nice spot.

A perfect view, really. I'm six inches from his cock. His slacks are in the way, yes, but I can see the bulge fighting the fabric. The shape. The size.

Thick but not too thick. Long but not too long.

Just right.

I don't touch him there, but I do bring my cheek to his inner thigh. The right. Then the left.

His eyes go to the mirror behind us.

Mine go to the one above.

Fuck, if we were really doing this—

My sex clenches. My skin tingles. My body whines more, more, more.

His hand goes to the back of my head. A reflex. He presses his palm against me gently, then he catches himself and stops.

But he doesn't move his hand. He keeps it there.

I run my cheek over his thigh again, then I rise.

He drops the hand.

I turn and shift onto his lap backward.

My eyes go to the mirror. His follow. We both watch as I roll circles around him, my ass pressed against his crotch, my hands just outside his thighs.

He lifts his arms. He almost breaks. But he catches himself in time again. He places his hand on my waist instead.

I let his cock settle against my ass. Not the spot I usually pick.

Right now, I want to offer him everything. I want to experience everything with him.

Maybe it's the alcohol talking, but I don't feel tipsy. Only drunk on anticipation.

I grind against him for half a song. I take his hand, and I bring it to just below my breasts.

He groans as I release his wrist.

He wants to win, but he wants to touch me too.

It's strange to watch my movements, but it feels good too. I tease him until I can't take it anymore, then I turn around, and I find the angle I need.

I roll my hips, grinding against him in just the right spot.

He looks up at me as I toy with him.

I keep one hand on his shoulder. I let the other curl around his neck.

"Fuck, baby." Jackson's voice drops to a demanding tone. "Are you using me to come?"

"If I am?"

"Bad girl," he purrs. It's the same inflection as the dancer, but it's all different on him.

It's a compliment and a command and a dare, and I want all of it.

I look down at him.

I let my eyes flutter closed.

I bring my lips to his lips. After all, we only bet on him touching my chest. Not on kissing.

We can kiss.

My tongue slips into his mouth and dances with his.

He kisses back a little harder, like he's claiming some part of me.

We move like that as I roll over him again and again, the tension in my sex winding tighter and tighter.

Until I'm there.

Fuck.

I rock through my orgasm, groaning against his lips, using him exactly how I need him.

I pull back with a sigh.

He looks up at me for a long second, then he presses his palm to my mid-back, and he brings my chest to his mouth.

He takes my nipple between his lips, and he toys with me. Soft suction. Then harder.

A slow flick.

A faster one.

Up and down again and again.

Only his mouth.

No hands.

I squirm in his lap, rocking against him, trying to contain the bliss. There. I’m already close again. And he’s still there, hard in my lap.


Advertisement3

Advertisement4