Unfortunately for him, all I keep picturing is Wesley, wondering what kind of massage he could give me, if I asked him.
Damn, I really need to stop thinking about him.
But it’s hard.
He’s all muscular and grown up now. He’s definitely not the boy I met all those years ago. He’s protective, and dangerous, and…
“It sounds like a porno in here,” Amber mumbles just as Marco slides the curtain between us.
His hands crawl up my legs again, this time spreading them so he can stick a few fingers inside me. “Is this okay?” he whispers for permission, his lips brushing over the side of my cheek.
I nod robotically, still picturing Wesley in my head.
“Mmm, oh god,” I mumble, just as his fingers start working me harder, his lips now sucking and teasing my mouth.
“Poppy!” Amber screeches.
“Shh,” I grumble, somewhat in a lust driven haze. “Mind your business.”
Marco bites my ear seconds before ripping a condom open with his mouth.
Oh, shit, this is really happening.
Do I want it to happen?
It’s been a rather long time for me, and maybe it will help erase Wesley from my mind.
His cock sinks in, and my eyes close, my mind wandering and betraying me all at the same time. As long as Marco doesn’t speak, I can keep this fantasy going. Behind my closed lids, I see Wesley’s chiseled jawline and those seductive lips that know how to dismantle me moving their way down my body. Suckling my breasts, hands manipulating parts of me that have been dormant for far too long.
It’s a fucked up vision, one that I have no problem drowning in. Because this is the closest I’ll ever let Wesley Dover get to me. In my mind, locked up in a shameful prison I have saved only for him.
For ten blissful minutes, I lose myself in the fantasy. Nothing like picturing your arch nemesis fucking the shit out of you to make everything feel more heightened and satisfying.
Marco grunts a few times, then pulls abruptly out of me.
The second it’s over, and my eyes blissfully slide open, I instantly feel regret, realizing I just let a complete stranger fuck the shit out of me because I was too busy picturing someone else in the moment. Sweat drips down his forehead as he wipes himself off and discards the condom like nothing ever happened.
“Are you alive?” Amber questions.
“Shut up.”
“Girl, you didn’t!”
I sit up a little, holding my hands over my breasts before whispering, “I so did.”
Marco slips me his number as he kisses the back of my hand. Amber grins, staring at me with strange fascination.
“You little slut.”
“Hey now, don’t get jealous. I’m sure Renaldo offered you things too. I heard you say no.”
“And you didn’t.” Her mouth slightly hangs open in astonishment.
“What can I say? Italian men love me.” The last thing I need is for her to press for more, so I quickly get up off the table, running into Mallory and a very pissed Pippa outside.
“Ugh, I can’t believe I paid for that,” Pippa grumbles. “My masseuse was a tall German woman named Helga. She was rough as fuck.”
Mallory glances at her shoes, a soft pink tingeing her cheeks. “Mine was a girl too.” Her blush deepens when everyone looks her way.
