But Beck didn’t look like any of them. His body was more polished. Finished off. Like the work that had begun in his prime was complete, and here he was now, a whole entire man. He was tan and toned, with wisps of dark hair scattered across his chest and forming a trail from his navel down to his cock. Unlike me, he was plenty hard, andbig. Bigger than anybody I’d seen, except Oz.
I tore my eyes away from his genitals only to catch his gaze instead.
He was staring right at me.
I spun around to face the bed like a scolded child, then climbed onto the mattress on my hands and knees, cursing the knot of sheets already getting in the way.
“Do you need to prep or anything?”
Beck’s question had me looking over my shoulder again.
Lube or a courtesy finger were not kindnesses often offered to a prostitute. I was expected to be primed and ready, so I supposed I was.
“I’m good,” I replied, sounding as uncertain as I felt.
I’d touched myself a few times. Mostly fondled my dick and jerked off to burn off steam or try to get sleepy after the club closed in the wee hours of the morning. But I hadn’t ever put anything in my ass. I might have needed to prep, but all the dildos were in the sex room downstairs, and the only thing I had for lubrication was a travel-sized bottle of lotion I borrowed from Darby.
He said I had dry skin. On my face. But I hadn’t used it there.
I braced on the bed on all fours, presenting myself like a bitch in heat as Beck closed in again. He put one hand on my waist, and the other brushed over my ass until I felt a finger dragging up my crease.
I gripped the bedsheets as the digit prodded the rim of my hole.
“I said I’m good,” I gritted out.
The finger retreated, and I huffed a breath.
Beck’s hand slid along my back next, toward my head where it curved around the nape of my neck. Then, it pushed me face first into the mattress in a pose that forced my legs to spread wider. I must have looked obscene.
“Get your ass up,” Beck grunted, then tugged on my waist.
My brows drew together. My ass was already on a pedestal. Served up and ready to be fucked. But I was nothing if not flexible, so I dropped my belly to give my spine a dramatic arch that drew a low note from Beck. Lust drifted into the air.
It was already better. Already more than what I got from the people who watched me onstage. I snaked my tongue out, trying to catch his desire like it was a snowflake drifting down.
My stance widened, and my back curved as I braced to take him. Dry. Raw. However he wanted me. It might hurt, but it couldn’t be as bad as the hunger relentlessly chewing up my insides, eating through me like acid.
Beck’s hands skated down my sides and past the narrowest part of my waist. His skin was warm and soft as he dragged his fingers over my hips and around my thighs, tracing theshape of me.
I liked the way I felt between his palms.
I wanted to look at him again, to see if his eyes glowed like mine did. I imagined them as fiery lanterns in the dark room. Part of me wanted to kiss him. Taste more than his pheromones and tether myself to him in some more meaningful way. His caress was encouraging, but I felt detached, like I was outside my body looking in, wondering when this would end.
Palming my ass cheeks, Beck spread me open so his cockhead could test my entrance. The blunt end poked and prodded, and I knew I needed to relax, let him in, but my body refused to relent.
When he drew back, I thought I’d lost him for sure. He didn’t strike me as an overly patient man, and I was trying what little he had. But before I could protest or plead again, the fingers that had been so gentle before stabbed into me. Two digits speared inside and scissored me open.
Itdidhurt.
It burned raw in a way that made stars sparkle across my vision. I yelped and tried to buck away, but Beck caught my hip and held me, thrusting deeper and curling until he hit something.
Oh…
“God, you’re wet.”
His voice was a rasp, and his breath rushed hot across my back as he bent over me.
What the fuck was that?
