Page 43 of Break My Rules
As we watch, the man beckons a woman over, and points to the floor, ordering her to her knees in one swift motion. She goes eagerly, already reaching to unsnap his belt and free his cock for her willing mouth.
“Would you like to taste him, too?” Saint whispers, as I watch the couple. Saint is still caressing me lazily, his touch like fire on my burning skin. I sink into his embrace, and his casually wandering hands. Getting hotter.Getting wet. “I could watch you suck him off… Give you plenty of instructions, so you’d swallow his cock just right.”
I watch, entranced, as the woman sucks him deeply; arching her back, sliding a hand between her thighs to play with herself. The dim lights reflect off her curves, spilling out of a tight dress; the man’s hand knotting in her dark curls to control her movements.
Beautiful.
“Ah, I see…” Saint’s voice turns smug. “Maybe we’ve been looking in the wrong direction…”
Saint turns me towards the bar. There’s a woman relaxing there, sipping her cocktail, and surveying the room curiously, just like us. She’s about my age, with expressive blue eyes and blonde hair pulled up in a messy bun, but unlike the other women here tonight, she’s dressed casually, in a tank top and long silk skirt that flows around her legs when she rises, crossing to a booth in the corner with the effortless grace of a dancer.
“She’s pretty,” Saint murmurs approvingly. “What do you say, baby, want to ask her to come play?”
My stomach tightens.Oh God.
“I’ve never…” I whisper, blushing furiously.
But I can’t deny that I’ve thought about it. Wondering.Imagining…
As if sensing my thoughts, the woman looks over in our direction. Her eyes sweep over the two of us, openly curious, then meet my gaze. She smiles at me, open and friendly, and I find myself smiling back.
I can’t believe I’m really considering this, but…
I want to.
Saint turns me to face him, and my secret curiosity must be written all over my face, because he chuckles knowingly. “Tell me. Use your words, baby.”
I swallow again, dry-mouthed. My heart pounding in my chest. “Yes,” I manage, jerking an eager nod. “Yes please.”
“Ohfuck,” he murmurs lustily, and my thrill intensifies. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do,” he adds. “This is about you, so if you change your mind, or feel like you want to hit the brakes, just say the word.”
I nod, but I already know, I won’t be changing my mind tonight.
I want it all.
“So, what happens now?” I ask breathlessly.
Saint produces a small gold key from his pocket. “Why don’t you freshen up and meet me in room six?” he says, handing me the key. “I’ll go get us some drinks and see if our new friend would like to join us.”
I nod. It feels like I need to dunk my whole head under cold water right now, so I gladly slip away to the luxurious, pink-tiled bathroom, done up with vintage Tiffany lamps and fringed chaises, with old Hollywood glam mirrors at every station.
Deep breaths, I tell myself, rinsing my hands under the cold water. I grab a paper towel, and dab some water on my chest too, but I can tell that there’s no cooling down, not with my blood already racing like wildfire, sensual anticipation in my veins.
How does Saint know all my secret desires? I marvel, giddy with excitement and nerves. From the moment we met, he’s tapped into my most forbidden dreams, taking my hand and leading me into a new world of pleasure and discovery.
And now that I trust him completely, I know that the pleasure is only going to be sweeter.
The door to the club swings open behind me, and the blonde woman strolls in. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I freeze, but she doesn’t seem at all ruffled as she strolls to the mirror beside me and checks her lipstick. “Hello,” she says, giving me a friendly, curious smile.
“Hi,” I blurt, feeling wildly self-conscious. Did Saint talk to her yet? Does she know?
I realize I’m staring, so I quickly blurt, “I, umm, really like your necklace.”
It’s true, she’s wearing a thin gold chain with a tiny flower pendant swinging low between her small, shapely breasts.
The woman smiles. “Thank you,” she replies, in a soft English accent. “I was just going to tell you, I love your dress. I’m Rose,” she adds.
“Tessa,” I reply, relaxing a little. I’m not sure if she’s giving me her real name, but now that I’m up close, I can see that Rose has a quiet, friendly vibe about her that immediately puts me at ease.