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Her head comes up and she nods eagerly. “Let me ride you.”
Fuck. I love when she does the lap dance thing for me. I don’t care what Ruby’s done in her past, and I would never try to tell her what she can do in the future—okay, I would, but I would also expect massive push-back and would not at all be surprised if she told me to keep my fucking opinions to myself—but I love the fact that she’s given up stripping.
She’s gorgeous, and I know she made very good money. For very good reason. She knows how to use this body. But I would now have to kill any man who sees her naked or thinks he can pay to touch so much as the bottom of her muddy shoe.
I gripher ass and carry her over to the kitchen table. I kick one of the chairs out and sink onto the seat, still buried deep. Now she’s straddling me, completely naked, while I’ve only got my clothes pushed out of the way.
And she’s totally in charge now.
She gets a sly look on her face and I see when she shifts into stripper mode. There’s no question that the women know they hold all the power when they’re taking off their clothes for those poor schmucks who can be manipulated by their lust.
I’m one of those schmucks right now. And it’s not just my lust. I’m in love with this woman from head to toe, and inside out. She’s amazing, gorgeous, and too good for me in every way.
The fact that she deigns to get naked for me, let me see her, touch her, please her, is incredible. I appreciate that she’s taking pity on me.
She lifts herself, sliding up and down my cock. Then she lifts herself off my lap.
“Mr. Dean, I understand you want a private performance tonight?” She stands between my knees, running her hands over her body. She cups her breasts, fingers her nipples, runs her hands down her stomach, over her mound, down the front of her inner thighs, then back up. Her index finger brushes lightly over her pussy and then she lifts her finger to her mouth, sliding the digit over her lower lip. “Is that right?”
“That is right, Ruby,” I say, working to keep my voice steady. “I’m willing to pay whatever you say.”
“Oh, I’m going to make you pay,” she says, that wicked glint in her eye making my cock pulse. “Don’t you worry about that.”
“I expect an incredible performance,” I tell her.
“Of course.” She gives me an arched brow laced with mock insult. “But this is a special performance.”
“Is it?”
She nods, running her hands down the front of her body again. “It’s interactive.”
I let my grin spread slowly. “Sounds expensive.”
“Very.”
“How much?”
“Two orgasms,” she says. Then she smiles. “Twomoreorgasms.”
“I’llhappilypay that price.”
“And you can only touch me when and where I say,” she tells me as I reach out.
Brat. She knows that will be the most difficult part.
I let my hand drop back to my lap. Then I think better of it. I wrap my hand around my cock and give myself a stroke. “Okay.”
She shakes her head. “Just don’t make yourself come. That’s allmine.”
I stroke myself harder. “You didn’t say that. You said two orgasms. I can make you come even if I’ve already spilled all over my own hand.”
That makes her catch her breath and her eyes are glued to my hand and my cock.
“But…”
“Say it, Gem,” I tell her. “Just tell me what you want.”
“I want you to come inside me.”