Page 2 of King of Clubs
“Sometimes two people just aren’t right for each other, no matter how much you try to make it work,” Sara says, and she can see the heat in Leon’s features as he brings her hand to his mouth, his lips ghosting lightly over her knuckles.
“You wanna get out of here?” he murmurs, kissing the pads of her fingers. “Continue this someplace else?”
“Yeah,” she says, draining the rest of the whiskey from her glass before she sets it down on the log table. “Yeah, I really I do.”
Chapter Two
Sara’s an impatient little thing.
Leon realizes that as soon as he gets her into his suite.
She’s used to quick fucks in hotel rooms across the globe, not a man who wants to take his time with her, who wants to savor her and map out all those deviant little spots that make her moan his name.
“Slow downMami.” He smiles against her skin. “We’ve got all night.”
It’s been a while since someone has taken care of her properly, he can tell. It’s in the way she responds to his touch, those pretty noises she makes. He hasn’t even undressed her yet but already she’s wanton for him. She’s been starved of affection for so long, she doesn’t know what it feels like to be appreciated, to be valued.
“I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,” he tells her, his thumb tracing over her pert lips.
His palm comes to rest on her throat as he kisses her into submission, his thumb chasing along her jawline. He knows she likes to relinquish control; he can sense that in her. He thinks she’s used to having it taken from her but Leon, he wants her to surrender. He wants her so needy, so desperate that the only thing she can think about is him.
His hand grips her jaw, his kisses languid, slow and deliberate as he rolls his hips, grinding against her. Her thighs grip his hips, hugging them tightly as she moans into his mouth. His palms ghost over her form, teasing through the fabric of her clothing. She’s flushed already, overwrought and sensitive.
“Good girl,” he whispers into her ear, his teeth grazing over that erotic area just underneath the hinge of her jaw, “letting me take my time.”
A little praise goes along way. He can see it in her eyes; feel it in the way she grasps him just that little bit harder. There’s a desire in her, to be wanted, to be loved that no one has ever tapped into before. That’s what the fucking is all about, hard and fast is how she keeps her distance. Slowing it down like this creates a level of vulnerability, it heightens the sensation.
He undresses her one article of clothing at a time, stroking, caressing, kneading all of those sensuous places until he has her breathing his name. He hasn’t even touched her yet but already the scent of her arousal is in the air, so thick that he can taste it on his tongue. His own clothes go next, the sweater tossed lord knows where, his jeans and underwear shucked down his hips until his bare skin presses against hers, heat meeting heat. He fumbles for the condom in his wallet, tearing the foil with his teeth, rolling it down his thick shaft before he settles himself between her thighs.
“There’s something special about youMami,” he says, tipping her chin up so he can look into those wild blue eyes of hers. They remind him of an ocean cresting against the shore, untamed and unruly. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s something.”
His mouth covers hers, stifling her moan as he enters her, filling her slowly before he pulls out and starts all over again.He’s unhurried with his thrusts, delivering long, deliberate strokes that rake over that sweet spot inside her again and again until her fingertips dig into his shoulders and every part of her tightens around his cock. When she comes, she takes him with her, his forehead resting upon hers as he spills himself deep inside the condom. Her heart pounds against his as he looks into her eyes, his thumb chasing over the apple of her cheek.
“OhMami,” he whispers against her lips, “the two of us are going to have some real fun over the next few days.”
Chapter Three
Leon spends three days with Sara.
Whiskey tasting in the Westland Distillery, comparing notes and swapping glasses when he finds one that he loves and she hates. They return to his suite a little tipsy, her nipping at his lower lip as he fucks her on the couch. She falls asleep, entwined with him, blanket strewn over their naked bodies as his fingers comb through her chin length waves.
The day after, they hit the Golden Nugget casino where he discovers she’s terrible at poker but half decent at blackjack. She wins some, she loses some, but it doesn’t really matter when the band starts to play, and Leon pulls her onto the dance floor. He’s a good dancer, much better than her but he doesn’t care, he just likes holding her close, the feel of the music rushing through his veins as he dances with the most beautiful woman in the room.
On the last night, they sneak into the outdoor hot tub after hours, both conveniently forgetting their swimsuits. He makes love to her with the jets running, his fingers running through her damp hair as he climaxes so hard that stars flicker across his vision.
Those three days, it’s the most fun he’s had in forever, which makes it hurt all the more when their time at the Lodge comes to an end.
Sara’s packing her things when he enters her room, his black leather cut draped over the white t-shirt that hugs his form. He’d kept it tucked away during this trip with Melina, there’s a clear divide for him between club business and family business and the two should never mingle. He sets down the compact black backpack containing his clothes before joining Sara alongside the bed, picking up one of her shirts and folding it neatly into her silver suitcase.
“Where are you off to next?” he asks, preoccupying himself with the task.
“Thailand,” she tells him as his shoulder nudges against hers. “I’m doing a pictorial article about the metal tube technique they do out there, the cultural aspects of it. It’s a very spiritual practice; I’d like to find out more about it.”
The thing he’s learned about her over the past few days is that she has an affinity for spirituality and culture. When she talks about her experiences, the rituals she’s viewed, the knowledge she’s gained, it’s always with respect and reverence. It comes across in her writing. He’s read a few of her pieces online, studied the pictures. She’s a gifted journalist and photographer which is why she won that award last year. He can understand how Duke would have been captivated by her.
“You should send me a postcard,” he says nonchalantly. “I don’t get to travel much being tied to the MC.”
“Where to?” she laughs and that sound, it resonates right through him. “Leon at the Black Bear Lodge, I don’t even know where you live outside of somewhere in Sunridge.”
