I hang on his every husky word, admitting, “I know a little about poker, know the basic rules. I know the king isn't the most powerful," I tease. “Just like in chess.”
To silence thatfacetioustone of mine, his hard cock presses into my backside, nothing left to the imagination, shutting me right up. "It doesn’t matter what hand you have, little deer,” he says, plucking seven cards from the spread deck. “If you can bluff, you can win. Let’s play a game. I will close my eyes while you look at your cards. If you can bluff me, I will let you come.”
I place my palms on the poker table on either side of me to keep myself steady as he slides my dress up above my hips, bunching the fabric.
I imagine him closing his eyes.
Swiping a finger between my legs, he growls, “The material of your panties is soaking wet, sweet girl.”
“I can bluff,” I tell him as I look at the cards before me. A shitty hand. Two of hearts, jack of spades, four of hearts, ten of clubs, four of spades, five of diamonds, nine of hearts. So… a pair? Is that all I have? One miserable little pair?
His lips brush my earlobe, the words, "Bluff then," whispering past, rumbling through my spine, travelling to the ball of need at my core as two fingers draw tight circles on the wet cotton at the delta between mythighs.
My knees buckle.
“I don’t need to bluff,” I lie. “I have a good hand.”
While he hooks his fingers through my underwear, dragging them down my thighs to pool at my ankles, he practically purrs directly into my nervous system. "What do you imagine is the best hand?"
Ugh.
The one between my legs.
"Uh… The one you have when you’re winning," I say, biting back my gasp of excitement.
“Such a clever girl." I feel him moving behind me, unbuckling his belt, the leather ends tapping my back as he pulls it free and drags his hard cock out.
I feel the wet tip sliding along my lower back, leaving a trail of his arousal.
He presses his lips to my ear. “Let's see how well you can bluff your Don while you take his cock." Gripping my hip with one hand, possessing me, he feeds his cock into my centre, causing me to arch into the table, brace my hands harder, and swallow a long moan.
His low laugh rumbles against my back as my body trembles around his invasion. I palm the green felt, fingers opening and closing, fighting to stay still when he begins to slide in and out of my pussy.
"A royal flush beats everything else," he tells me, voice steady and controlled. “It’s an ace.”
He thrusts.
“A king.”
Thrust.
“Queen.”
Thrust.
“Jack.”
Thrust.
“Ten.”
His mouth traces a path from my neck to my shoulder, hot and deliberate, with each thrust pushing my pelvis against the hard edge of the poker table. “All. In. The Same. Suit.”
I see stars. "Oh, God."
"No, he won't help you."
I widen my legs.
