Page 114 of Whirlwind

Last night, we’d gotten back to our villa from the nightclub, and the minute I’d unlocked the door, she’d pushed me inside and started stripping off her clothes then stripped off my shirt. She pushed me back on a low lying armchair, unzipped my linen trousers, got my excited cock out, and her mouth went to town.

I twisted her hair in my fist, clenching it tightly as she sent me through the roof and I babbled all sorts of shit through my clenched jaw. “Did you kiss that guy?”

“Walker?”

“Yeah, big bad Walker.” I pumped my cock faster in her fucktastic mouth.

She shook her head, her mouth full with me, lips wet.

“Did you want to?”

She released my dick. “No.” Her mouth went to my balls, sucking hard, and I winced. Her eyes flashed at me, her tongue took a long, slow lick of my painfully hard shaft. The most erotic thing I’d ever witnessed.

She stroked it as she spoke, her lips against my stiff, wet, throbbing cock. “I’m sure screwing him would have been an adventure”—her tongue swirled around my swollen tip, fingers at my ball—“but notmykind of adventure.” She kept licking me, and my heart blew out of my chest at the sight of her naked, on the floor between my legs, sucking on me. I was at her mercy. It was a jump off the roof kind of thrill for me.

“Get on my cock, now.”

“I’m not done—”

“Now.”

“But don’t you want to—”

“Violet!”

She quickly climbed on top of me, my hands clutching her ass cheeks. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as she hovered over me. “Put it in me.”

Fucking hell.

Parting her cheeks, my fingers grazed her tight asshole as I laid kisses on her tits to the sound of her tiny gasps and moans. From her rear my fingers slid down through her wet to her soaked pussy. I teased and swirled as she cried out. “That where you want me, baby? You want me to make you feel good, make you feel high?”

“Y-yes, yes…”

My one hand went to my cock, wet with me and Violet. I slid it up and down her clit, and her hips circled anticipating entry, her body needing friction, hungering for satisfaction. “Tsk tsk, impatient.” My other hand remained in between her cheeks, stroking, sliding.

Her body shook, her hands clutching my shoulders, my neck. “You’re killing me.”

I grazed a nipple with my teeth, and her head fell back as she let out a long moan. Her pelvis circled, searching for me, begging for me. I thrust my cock inside her.

“Beck!”

I filled her, and yet, somehow, I felt filled up too.

A hand clasped my neck, and I tightened my hold on her body, anchoring us both. She drove up and down on me. We clung to each other, we came. We didn’t speak. Curling up together on the oversized armchair, we drifted into sleep. At some point I’d woken up and carried her to the bed.

Now, my entire body tightened at the sight of her in that crazy hot bathing suit, bent over photography equipment, helping out Stone, Lars’s assistant, as Lars directed traffic, namely the two young models who’d joined Tag here in Greece.

They seemed really young…were they even eighteen? If Jude were here, he’d be all over them. Gabriella was from Germany, Irina was from Ukraine. Both were petite, slim and curvy, with long messy beach hair. They were swimsuit models and probably lived in bikinis year round. Both of them were constantly on their phones, scrutinizing and studying their screens, swiping, swiping, and talking with each other in broken English.

Kaspar threw himself on the chair next to me. “I’m too old for jumping off roofs.” He laughed.

“No, you aren’t.”

Kaspar was in his forties and far from “old.” His body was lean and muscular. He had energy to spare, obviously worked out, and exuded a relaxed positivity.

Irina swam up to our side of the pool. “Hi, Kaspar,” she purred in her thick accent.

“That I can do,” Kaspar said on a laugh and dove into the pool.

---