“So, what do you think?” I asked, nervous for her approval.
After examining everything, she turned toward me and said, “Yeah, this room kind of sucks.”
Umm, not what I was expecting her to say.
“What?” I asked, entirely confused.
“Your room, it’s…boring. Where are the pictures, the textures, the rich fabrics? I feel like I just walked into an operating room. Is this where you really sleep at night? No wonder why you’re so fucking moody all the time; it’s like you purposely incarcerated yourself.” With a cute expression on her face, she asked, “You don’t expect me to sleep in here, do you?”
“Well, I was thinking…”
“No, definitely not,” she said, while holding up her hand. “I refuse to sleep in an old ice bucket. I mean honestly, Jett, I thought you were better than this. I mean, the Bourbon Room is warmer than this place. What is that? A cow’s tongue?” She pointed to a sculpture on my dresser.
“No, it’s art.”
“Looks like a cow’s tongue to me,” she said, while walking over and examining it. “Yup, it’s a cows tongue, you can see all the taste buds. Looks like this cow liked sour things.”
“Oh, that’s right, I forgot you are quite knowledgeable on different cow parts, like vaginas and whatnot,” I teased, reminding her once again of her drunk shenanigans.
“Still need proof of that,” she shouted, as she took in the “Cow’s tongue” some more. “Gah, this thing is nasty. Why on earth would you have it in your room?”
“I have an appreciation for art.”
“Well, your appreciation reads like a bloody vagina. You need some new taste, and because I’m so kind and loving, I will offer my services.”
“Is that right?” I asked, as I moved toward her. “What kind of services would that be?”
“You know, curtains, wall paint, blow jobs, throw pillows.”
“Blow jobs? Is that extra?”
“When I’m trying to find a needle in a haystack, yes. Extra fifty for you, big boy,” she said, patting my chest.
“What did I tell you about girls who lie?” I warned.
“They get utterly fucked by their hot billionaire boyfriend?” she wiggled her eyebrows.
“You’re impossible,” I huffed, as I walked away, hearing her trail behind me as I walked straight into the Bourbon Room; it was time to get down to business.
30
“The Days”
Goldie
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked Jett, who was butt ass naked and walking toward his room. That ass, damn. If I hadn’t just been thoroughly fucked in the Bourbon Room, I would be chomping away until I grabbed a piece of it.
“What? You want more?” Jett asked, as he turned toward me, giving me a full frontal.
Sigh.
Yeah, I sighed, don’t judge me.
“I always want more,” I replied, while slipping my hand into his, which he took as an invitation to ravage me once again.
Pushing me up against the wall of the hallway, he locked me in with his arms on either side of my head and lowered his mouth so it was only inches from mine.
“Can you handle more?” he asked, now starting to slowly nip away at my neck.
No, I couldn’t handle more; I was already so incredibly sore, but my damn pussy kept awakening every time Jett came near me.
His lips worked their way up my neck and to my jaw, where he peppered kisses along my skin until he hit my lips. Not even giving me a chance to recover, he pulled my bottom lip with his teeth and then bit it, making me squeal.
A low and sexy laugh came from his chest as he started to sooth my lip with his tongue.
Oh, fuck me.
My legs involuntarily widened, as his hand found its way to my hip, just under the silkiness of my robe.
Was this really happening again?
His other hand glided up to the knot of my robe, and the two sides fell open, exposing my skin to Jett’s heated body.
Yup, this was happening.
“You taste so fucking good,” Jett said, as he ran his tongue along my neck. I wasn’t really into the whole licking thing, but damn if I didn’t want to make a prosthetic of his tongue and run it up and down my body all day long.
His mouth descended down my neck to my chest, where my nipples were so incredibly hard, just begging for him to touch them. His hands, which were on my hips, glided up my body until they were gripping my breasts with a kind of force I hadn’t ever experienced from him. The way he squeezed me, making me stand on my tippy toes from the pressure, had me begging for more, needing more.
With skillful fingers, he pinched my nipples, hard, and then worked his mouth down my stomach until he nestled right between my legs. He spread my legs wider, until I thought I was going to fall, and then he pressed his hands against my hips to hold me up better and ran his tongue up my slit.
A moan escaped me as his wet tongue slid up and down my most sensitive area.
Yes, this was exactly what I needed. Even though I loved Jett’s dick, fucking craved that meat sword, I occasionally wanted to be loved like this, tenderly.
I relaxed into the wall as I let Jett’s tongue do all the work, allowing myself to feel every swipe, every breath, and every hum he laid on me.
Faster than I expected, I felt my orgasm coming on; my legs started to feel like noodles and my core began to burn from the onslaught of pleasure I was experiencing.
I gripped Jett’s head and prepared myself. With one deep swipe, I was riding Jett’s tongue, exploding from the inside out, screaming for the entire club to hear, until there wasn’t any more orgasm left inside of me.
My eyes were closed, trying to figure out how Jett was able to literally turn me inside out, when I felt him pick me up and walk toward his room. He moved the door open with his foot and walked me toward his bed.
Carefully, he placed me on the very comfortable mattress, which made me temporarily forget where I was, until I opened my eyes.
Jett was in his closet, pulling on a pair of briefs, when I sat up and looked at him.
He was hard, really fucking hard, and I knew it was because he was turned on from getting me off. How could you not love a man for that?
“Come here,” I said, waving my finger at him.
“Why?” he asked, at the same time as he leaned against the door frame of his closet and crossed his arms over his impressively cut chest.
“Because I want to soothe that rather massive ache you have in your briefs; now, get over here.”
“Not necessary,” he replied, walking toward me. He grabbed ahold of my robe and ran it carefully over my shoulders. Was he trying to turn me on again? Because he was doing a damn fine job of it.
Wanting to take charge, I ran my hand up his thigh until I reached the juncture of his legs and grabbed ahold of his balls.
He inhaled a sharp breath and looked down at me, telling me through his eyes that I was in so much trouble, but at the moment, I really didn’t care, because I was seeing how much I was turning him on, and that was all that mattered to me.
“What do you think you’re doing, Little One?” he asked in that dominant southern voice that rumbled through my body every time he spoke.
“Taking care of your little problem here.”
“You know damn well it’s not little. How many times do I have to remind you of that?”
Shrugging, I said, “Maybe one more?”
Without letting him respond back, I grabbed the top of his waistband and pulled down his briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. My mouth watered at the sight. I felt like it had been so long since I’d had the distinct pleasure of taking him in my mouth.