Her orgasm was close, hovering like a bird of prey. She just needed a tiny bit more. More sensation, more words. “Are you… are you going to make me come while you fuck me? Or do you not care?”
“You can do whatever you want while I’m fucking you, bitch. I don’t give a damn.”
And it was that, the idea that he didn’t even care whether she came or not, that made it happen. She pressed the side of her hand to her mouth and bit down, her juices flowing along Toby’s fingers and onto her thighs.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”
Tabby shook her head as her orgasm rolled on. Her legs were shaking, and despite his disdain, Toby’s fingers pushed faster and deeper, the sopping noise almost as humiliating as his bored tone.
“Like that?” he muttered. “Wishing it was my dick making you do this?”
Tabby nodded, screwing her eyes shut as she gave herself over to the sensation, moaning in a way that had to be audible to anyone with a functioning cochlear. Sure enough, a man laughed nearby. “Must be that time of night already,” he said.
Her face was scorching, tears prickling in her eyes, and that only made her come harder. It was so good and so bad and so fucking awful. The hottest sex dream brought to life. Her orgasm crested, and when the pleasure became almost excruciating, it finally dimmed. She collapsed back on Toby’s chest, her head lolling on his shoulder.
“We’re not done.”
“I-I know,” she said, gasping for breath. “Can I just please have a?—”
He grabbed her chin again, making her look at him. “What was that?”
“I…” Tabby’s tongue was thick, borderline useless. “I’m sorry?”
He stared at her for a second, taking her in like he’d never seen her before. “Were you about to ask me for something?”
“N-no.”
“Good.”
He smirked that perfect asshole smirk that made her want to punch him in the nose and simultaneously drop to her knees and worship the cock swelling his pants.
“Keep quiet from now on,” he said, tapping a pussy-soaked finger to her nose. “I like you better that way.”
You fucking evil bastard, Tabby thought gleefully.
Toby grabbed his champagne and drained the flute in one, then grabbed hers and did the same thing. It should have been silly, a grown man doing a chug-a-thon, but Tabby had never felt less like laughing. Her pussy was already so eager it was like she’d never come at all.
“Get up,” Toby demanded. “Go stand by the curtain.”
She did, watching as he put both glasses in the ice bucket and moved everything onto the floor.
Straightening, Toby looked down the bridge of his nose at her. “You’re gonna get fucked now. Got that?”
She ducked her head, her heart pounding. “Yes, Toby.”
He clasped her right breast, squeezing it hard. “Looking forward to it?”
“Yes, Toby.”
“Course you are.” He gripped her arm and shoved her face onto the table, the wood cold against her cheek. She listened as he pulled down his zipper, and before she could do more than brace herself, he was on her. His cock was free, the feel of it shockingly hot, even through the satin of her dress.
Anticipation went through her like red wine on an empty stomach. He grabbed her left thigh and pushed her knee onto the table. She was spread open, the thin material of her skirt the only thing protecting her modesty.
“What are you thinking about, Tabitha?”
His breath hazed over her neck, and goosebumps caressed her arms and spread across her chest. “You. You fucking me.”
“Good answer.” He lifted her skirt to her hips, exposing her bare ass, his movements rough but deliberate. She was sure he’d planned this all out, pictured everything beforehand. Now she was here making it real. Another man’s girlfriend. Pussy for hire.
