“I think it sounds perfect.”
“Good,” I say, kissing him quickly. “Then I’ll do it.”
He begins to unzip one of my knee-high boots.
“What are you doing?” I ask, need coursing through me in an instant.
“You just look so pretty sitting here, and I thought we might need to christen the place.” He unzips my other boot and tugs it off my foot before dropping it onto the floor.
“What if someone comes in?” I ask.
“The bar’s closed. No one is coming in here.” He sips from his glass, his eyes darkening over the rim, then works his hands up my legs and over my hips. “I love this little skirt,” he says. “But you know what would make it better?”
“What?” I ask, my breaths already turning rapid in anticipation of his next move.
“Nothing underneath it. How attached are you to these?”
“Not attached at all. Wh?—”
Before I can finish, he gathers the top of my stockings and rips them open in one motion, exposing my bare pussy to him completely.
“Fuck,” I let out. “You really should rip my clothes off of me more often.”
“Noted.” He pulls the torn fabric off, and a sexy grin spreads across his face. “My wild girl. You’re wearing the plug?” he asks, running his fingers along my inner thigh until he reaches the orange jewel that adorns it.
I nod my head and smirk.
His throat bobs as he swallows, and his pupils blow.
Taking both of his hands, he spreads my legs apart, causing my skirt to bunch around my hips. I lean back ever so slightly on my hands so that I’m on full display for him. “Fuck, I wish you could see yourself,” he says.
I whimper under his praise.
Trailing his finger up my center, he dips one finger inside of me and then another, causing my head to fall back. “You’re soaked, baby.” A moan escapes my lips as he pumps his fingers in and out at a tantalizing speed.
Our eyes lock on one another, and he removes his hand. My lips part on instinct, expecting him to want me to suck them clean, but he doesn’t. Instead, he brings both to his own mouth. “Fuckkkk,” he says with a moan. “You taste amazing.”
Another whimper crosses my lips as his eyes rake over me.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Always,” I say.
He finds his glass of amaretto and pulls out a large piece of ice. Bringing one of my ankles to his shoulder, he runs thecube down my leg, causing goosebumps to flare everywhere it touches. He continues to trail up my inner thigh, and when he reaches my pussy, he runs the ice up my center, and I let out a moan. “Does that feel good, pretty girl?”
“So good,” I breathe out, swallowing hard.
The contrast between the slight burn of alcohol and the coldness of the ice on my clit causes my whole body to shudder. I watch as he circles my sensitive bud with the ice, winding me tighter. A wicked grin spreads across his face, and he pops the ice cube into his mouth.
HOLY. FUCKING. SHIT.
He lets out a moan when the ice hits his tongue, and then he pulls me forward so that my ass hits the edge of the bar.
His mouth crashes into mine, and he pushes the still not melted ice cube into my mouth, his hands working up my body. He only breaks away long enough to remove my shirt and his, and my hands trace the lines of his abs.
Covering both of my tits with his hands, he plays with nipples. I buck my hips forward, desperate for more.
“Fuck me,” I beg, as heat gathers between my thighs. “I need you inside of me now.”
