Page 30 of The Pleasure Zone

He was so damn sexy. And those eyes mesmerized her. She wanted to beat and fuck him. Her blood boiled. She loved a masculine man comfortable in his masculinity, in his sexuality, willing to submit.

Hazel Eyes gnawed on his tongue as Pain slid up on her knees, then lifted her body. She shook her hips, sauntering back to the middle of the stage, bending over and retrieving her whip from the stage floor.

She faced the crowd, then crooked a finger at Hazel Eyes, motioning him to come onto the stage. He drew a deep, shuddering breath into his muscled chest, then hopped up on the stage. Pain eyed him. He was fit. Toned. Tall. Bowlegged. Bare-chested. And the bulge in his boxers…oh my!

Her mouth watered as he prowled toward her.

She loved bowlegged men. Loved fat, mouthwatering cock.

Before Hazel Eyes could get any closer, she flung the whip at him. It wrapped around his wrist. Unflinching, he smiled. Yes, he was what she needed tonight.

A man willing to submit, to be on display… Mmm. Exhibitionism was so sexy. She tugged on the whip and pulled it, pulling him closer. His breath quickened as she asked for his other wrist.

She had to be careful not to break any of the club’s rules for second-floor sex play, or run the risk of being escorted out and having her membership cancelled. Still, she took his other wrist and wrapped the leather whip around his hands. She wouldn’t lash him. But she’d coil him. That wouldn’t be so bad. Right?

Pain instructed him to hold his hands up over his head as she secured him to the pole, before expertly tethering his legs. She ran her hand over his cock, and he moaned as she squeezed and leaned into him. “What’s your name, sexy?”

A muscle tightened in his lower stomach. His dick throbbed painfully hard. Blood pooled and pumped into his shaft. “Zion,” he pushed out, breathlessly.

/> Pain eased her hand down into the waistband of his underwear, fingered the dark curly thatch around his thick cock. She moaned at the feel of his impressive size. His erection pulsed in her hand, thick and ready. She wanted him. Now. She yanked his underwear down over his hips. Then leaned in and crushed her mouth over his lips, kissing him passionately as she slipped two fingers between her breasts and pulled out a leather strap from her corset.

Hazel Eyes hissed as she stroked his cock with a gloved hand. She licked her lips, then took her other hand and massaged him with both her hands. “I want you deep in my cunt,” she said, wrapping the strap around his balls and the base of his cock. “Would you like that?”

He moaned out his answer as she grabbed his erection by the base and slid her gloved hands up and down his shaft.

She brought her soft lips to his neck and bit the skin over his jugular. The bite turned into a sensual lick, then a kiss, then another bite. Pre-cum slid out from the tip of his dick and dripped onto her hand. Pain lifted her hand to her mouth and licked over her glove. Hazel Eyes groaned.

“Mmm,” she purred. “You taste like sweet arousal.” She stroked him again, roughly, purposefully, milking out another string of glaze. “Taste,” she urged as she lifted her hand to his mouth. He licked. Moaned. Then licked over her glove again.

Pain grabbed his balls. Stroked him again until pre-cum streaked her glove. She let go of his turgid flesh, then playfully slapped his face, before sliding in front of him, and rolling her hips until she was positioned directly in front of his perfectly straight cock, pointing rigid like an arrow at its target. She bent over, pulled her thong to the side, then eased back and fucked herself on his dick, raw and filthy, looking out into the crowd.

In back of the dim-lit room stood the shadow of a tall, dark, muscled figure—watching, a mixture of surprise and amusement glinting his dark eyes. Thick arms crossed over a wide chest, his biceps bulging under a body-hugging, black T-shirt, he blinked. Then narrowed his eyes.

Hol’ up. Wait. Is that? He shook the absurd thought from his head. Nah, that can’t be…

Knowing he had to be mistaken, he stepped further inside.

Pain grabbed her ankles and moaned as Hazel Eyes thrust his hips, ramming his dick inside her, sliding in and out of her wetness. Feeling heat sweep over her body, Pain cried out and looked up into the burning eyes of a familiar face from across the room.

THIRTEEN

“Damn, baby, you’re still sexy as ever.”

Nairobia blinked. Heat instantly washed over her body at the sound of the man invading the space behind her; his panty-dropping voice licked at her libido. She turned to face him. And eight-and-three-quarter inches of thick, mocha-colored cock was what instantly flashed through her mind the minute she looked up into the green, sparkling eyes of one of the sexiest men alive.

He gave her a lopsided grin, taking her all in, starting at her feet and working his way slowly upward. He didn’t have his coal-black, wavy hair pulled back in his signature ponytail. Instead it hung past his shoulders in never-ending waves.

“Carlos, my darling,” Nairobia cooed, her gaze sizzling over his.

She hadn’t seen him since the Annual Music Awards in Monte Carlo, Monaco over a year ago. And he was as gorgeous now as he’d been then. He looked scrumptious in his fitted, short-sleeved white V-neck tee and a pair of torn, white jeans poured on over his muscled ass. The scent of his expensive cologne, mixing with all the testosterone that seeped from his deliciously buffed skin instantly aroused her.

She hadn’t had him between her thighs in close to two years. But she remembered the sweet taste of his lips and the way his greedy cock splashed in and out of her juicy cunt. Good dick was hard to forget.

But it wasn’t always attached to a good man. Not that Carlos wasn’t a good one; he just wasn’t one Nairobia would ever have longer than a night—or two—in her bed or between her thighs. The green-eyed pretty boy, in all of his fineness, was a notorious womanizer. And the whole world knew he—one of the world’s most eligible bachelors—was a manwhore. Nairobia didn’t judge, however. And she didn’t care.

After all, everyone had a past, and their own story to tell. And she definitely had more than her share of sex tales to share. Still, Carlos had been linked to some of the most beautiful women around the globe. From supermodels to Hollywood starlets and songstresses, the R&B crooner and model was known for his prowess in the sheets, and for breaking hearts. The tabloids had him labeled as an international playboy. And they loved seeing him through their cameras’ lenses. He was just so damn sexy to photograph, even in the most scandalously compromising positions. Like the time he’d had a wardrobe malfunction and the drawstring of his linen pants came loose, and so did all of Nature’s glory. Dick and balls for all to see, dangling on display.

Yes, yes, yes. Nairobia could attest to his delicious dick strokes and toe-curling tongue licks. And truth to be told, he was almost as good as his fraternity brother and best friend, Marcel. Almost.