Page 9 of Big Beefy Kingpin

I am tempted to give him a ridiculous number. Would that turn him off?

Do I want him turned off?

Despite the conflict brewing in my head, I find myself speaking the truth. “No one.”

The room falls into a dead silence and I am tempted to turn around and look at him. I want to see his face, but something pushes me to wait.

“Fuck,” he growls, his voice deep and raspy, and his accent heavier than it’d been before. “You’re a virgin.”

The way he says it… as if it’s the most precious thing he’s ever heard in his life. At twenty-one, all of my friends are already sexually experienced with some married and others, like Scarlett, engaged to the man of her dreams. So no, my virginity doesn’t feel like something I need to treasure.

It doesn’t feel precious to me and it’s not something I am particularly proud of but, the way he says it…

The wonder and barely veiled excitement in his voice sends warmth to more parts of my body than just my aching sex.I don’t know this man. I shouldn’t let his words affect me in any way and yet… that’s all they do.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” he rasps. “I want to see you.”

I do as he instructs, my nipples aching with need when his gaze caresses them.

“Now strip off completely, I want to see your ripe virgin pussy.”

Heat clogs my throat at his dirty words but despite feeling a bit embarrassed at his request, there is no ignoring the ache his words send spiraling between my thighs.

I grab the edge of my panties and slide them down slowly, watching him under my lashes. I step out of them and stand before this stranger, vulnerable and exposed.

It’s obscene and it feels… sinful.

Forbidden.

“Tell me, sweetheart, have you ever touched yourself, played with your pussy when it’s just you in your room?”

“I don’t…”

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice is heavily accented now and it sends heat vibrating down my body.

“Yes,” I admit, shyly. “Sometimes, I… when I am alone, I like to touch myself. But only sometimes.”

“Show me,” he grits, the lust in his eyes pushing me to obey his orders. “Show me how you do it.”

I lick my lips and move to the couch facing his. I lower myself to the soft leather, before lifting my legs and parting my thighs, exposing my naked sex to him.

“Good girl,” he breathes, dropping his hand to the tent in his pants, stroking himself ever so slowly over his clothing. “Show me how you do it. Let me see.”

I flush red at his words but find myself dropping my fingers between my thighs. His eyes track my movements, sending an ache to my sex and leaving me seeking out relief. I’ve never done this before but for reasons unknown to me, I find myself craving his reaction.

A part of me wants to be reckless for the first time in my life.

I came to Vegas. That was a risk in itself and, if by chance I make it out of here alive, when I go back to my boring life in New York, then I can have this, right?

I don’t need to know his name. After this, he and I will probably never meet again. What use is it fighting this need, when my body is craving his touch?

Him.

I want him just as much as he wants me.

“Fuck!” he curses, his eyes narrowing on my body, pupils dilating further with every caress of his eyes over my skin. “Show me how you play with yourself.”

I spread my legs further apart before slipping my fingers through my wetness. His loud groan drowns out my whimpers of need. Having him watch me like this, makes my body feel alive. I move my finger to the sensitive nub that always brings me pleasure.

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