God, she would miss this when she was dead.
With her pussy hot, wet, and ripe for the taking, she bent forward and loosened the silk rope from one of Brian’s shackled hands. Settling for fingers over fellatio, she inched upward, her actions conveying without words exactly what she wanted from him. And she expected nothing less. Brian, the masterful lover that he was, shot her a grin and deftly parted her twin lips. With little finesse, he unceremoniously scraped the rough pad of his thumb over her inflamed clit, his perfect ministrations keeping her hovering on the precipice.
“Oh, yes . . . ,” she murmured, grinding her fleshy nub against him until pleasure bled into pain. “So good . . .”
“That’s it, baby. Let me take you to heaven,” he whispered and bucked against her, so his rock-hard erection toyed with her oversensitized G-spot.
Lust prowled through her and urged her on. Jaclyn cupped her engorged breasts, lifted herself clear off his cock and then swiftly impaled herself onto him. Jesus . . . As Brian’s impressive length speared her, his girth stretched open the tight walls of her cunt until a creamy release was merely a stroke away.
She hungered to prolong the pleasure, to continue their fuck session clear on through to next week. But it couldn’t continue and she damn well knew it. Because come Monday morning at eight a.m.—merely thirty-five hours and fifteen minutes away—she’d be dead.
Well, not dead in the biblical, or even the Wikipedia, sense of the word, but certainly in the spiritual sense. She knew her essence for life, the uninhibited sexual force deep inside that drove her pleasure-seeking hormones, would slowly be snuffed out until she became the proper girl her family demanded, and her upper-class, high-society community expected.
As a privileged socialite residing in Chicago’s Gold Coast, she was supposed to play by her society’s stringent rules, despite the fact that deep down she never felt she belonged. At times she attributed her loneliness to adoption; other times she was certain the hollow feeling stemmed from something else entirely—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, something that was just out of her grasp.
Nevertheless, in three days she’d have to bury her wicked ways and start playing the part of the good girl. Not an easy task considering she’d been sexually ravenous since hitting adolescence. Her stomach dipped in dismay at the thought, already mourning the death of her wild, sexual spirit.
It wasn’t her fault she’d been born with a sex drive that would rival any man’s, and she certainly hadn’t meant for her enjoyment of kinky sex, ménages, voyeurism, exhibitionism, or BDSM to bring scandal to her family’s name. Nor did she think her untamed, passionate nature would cause investors in her father’s multimillion-dollar cosmetic business to turn skittish. And with the threat of a corporate takeover, any more rumblings about her after-hour activities would cause nothing but trouble for a company already treading on shaky ground.
But her daily desire for wild sex didn’t mean she’d stand by while her father’s empire collapsed around her. She was a high achiever, intelligent, resourceful, with a hard-earned marketing degree to back up her credentials—in addition to being her father’s sole heir. It was a shame no one on the board could see past the paparazzi pictures. Sure she went to extreme measures to keep her private indiscretions, well . . . private, and she maintained a professional demeanor at the office, but as heir to a multimillion-dollar company, she continually found herself in the media spotlight—and not in a favourable way. Why couldn’t anyone see that her sexual appetite would in no way hinder her ability to run her father’s empire?
She pushed back a cold shiver and shelved those thoughts to the back recesses of her mind. It was not the time for thinking about such bleak matters. Right now was the time to focus on the orgasmic pleasure Brian was bestowing upon her. She was going to need these hot, erotic memories to draw on later when she found herself all alone in the quaint, isolated town of Serene, New Hampshire. A town where she suspected everyone lived behind white picket fences, resided in matching houses, and had two point four kids. The perfect location for her to mend her bad-girl ways and start over.
If the town was anything like Silver Springs, the neighboring community, where her grandmother used to reside—and Jaclyn suspected it was—she knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d find herself another bad-boy like the one between her legs. Which was exactly why Serene was the perfect spot to try on the good-girl persona and masquerade as something she wasn’t. The less temptation she found in suburbia the better. Because when it came right down to it, where sex was concerned, she had little to no self-control.
If she was honest with herself, Jaclyn felt obligated to do something to appease her parents. She owed them that much. Twenty-four years ago when her biological mother had ditched her in a Chicago subway station hours after giving birth to her, only to end up dead a few blocks away, Benjamin and Marie Vasenty rescued her from a life of foster care. They had also given her every luxury and privilege one could ask for.
She certainly hadn’t wanted to disappoint them, or for them to abandon her because of her wicked ways. Sex had always felt right, never dirty or wrong. She had yet to find one man who could completely and thoroughly sate the incessant ache inside her. At least not for any length of time. When it came right down to it, she suspected no such man existed.
The door to the club opened and closed, and a pair of intense dark eyes swept through the room before settling on her. As she took in the man’s watchful gaze, a wicked grin tweaked the corners of
