fantasize what it would be like to kiss a girl. The sensual feel of her as she pinched my breasts. I’m overcome with desire, my skin vibrating with need. One woman pulls something from the other’s thong. A sucker. As she holds it between her teeth, the other tears off the wrapper.

I scoot to the edge of my seat, desperate to know what’s to come. They turn, making eye contact with me. My stomach tightens, and the room quiets like we’re the only three in the room. I’m stuck in tunnel vision, my sight only on them. With a slow ease, they slither toward me, leaving the stage. As one woman stops in front of me, the other leans forward, shocking me as she takes the sucker and places it in my mouth.

I accept it, aching to know the flavor. How it feels on my tongue. There’s no urge for her to retreat as she pushes the lollipop farther into my mouth. I suck down on it, claiming the roundness with my tongue. I’m lost in the moment, my eyes at half-mast, throbbing between my legs. She pulls the sucker from my lips and steps back, guiding her partner back on the stage. Their attention is back on one another as the other woman lays down. Her hands begin to cup her breasts, pressing them together, her dark nipples on full display. But it’s when the other one lowers herself over her that I’m in fear of losing it. She glides down her body, spreads the woman’s legs, and inserts the candy into her sex. With slow, soft thrusts, she fucks her with the candy, pushing me closer to my own sexual release.

I’ve never seen anything so erotic. My nipples ache, my sex throbs, my panties are soaked. I have no idea what’s happening, but I want what they have. I want to be on that stage. Feel the pressure of the sweetness pushing into me. My hands shake as I fight not to touch myself. She pulls the candy out and moves up her partner, placing the sucker into her mouth and watches as she kisses off the juices of her—

“What has you in such a state, mon cherie?”

His voice is like icing on the cake. I should jump out of my seat and escape this shameful show. But I want nothing more than to be a part of it. She takes her mouth hard, in a kiss so passionate, it dizzies me, while grinding her sex against her partner’s. There’s no doubt they’re about to climax.

“Do you wish to join?”

God, yes, I do. I want to suck on her nipples. Grind against her warm, wet pussy. Lose myself in the embrace of the unknown. I’ve never been or thought about being with a woman, but right now, there’s nothing I want more.

“You would look beautiful on that stage.” He continues to romance me with his words, adding gasoline to the already burning fire.

“I…it’s just so…”

“Erotic, sensual, tempting?”

“Yes,” I moan, the sensuality of his voice bringing me closer to my own climax.

Two hands rest on my shoulders, and I pray for him to throw me to the ground and fuck the shit out of me.

“That’s enough.”

He pulls me from my chair, my eyes fighting to break free of the scene on the stage. His hand secures around mine, and he guides me away.

“Why…why are we leaving?”

“Because I told you I would be a gentleman. And you said you’re not that kind of girl. Therefore, I won’t allow you to withstand any more torture.”

That bastard. There’s laughter in his tone. I could seriously kick his ass. He’s the one telling me to find my inner hussy. What the hell? We don’t stop until we’re back in the dark alley, the vibrance of the night’s festivities coming back to life.

I rip my mask off my face. “You’re really confusing, you know that?”

“Oh, how is that?” he asks with a damn smirk I want to kiss off.

“You just preached in there about how New Orleans is a place for sex and desire and the unknown, blah, blah, blah. But when something starts to intrigue me, you abort ship!”

His eyes flicker. I swear there’s fire brewing behind the mysterious silver. “So, you admit there was something you liked?”

“No. Yeah. I mean no. Maybe! You’re confusing me.”

He takes a step toward me, his chest flush against mine. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“How so?” Prove that blue balls exist for females?

His fingers lift to my face and brush against my cheek. He leans forward, his mouth so close, his breath cool against my lips. “You’re not ready.”

Pffft! “Yes, I am!” For what, I’m not exactly sure.

“You’re not. Let’s go.” He extends his hand, asking permission to take mine. I’m hesitant, too busy being a brat, but give in and slide my fingers through his.

“Fine, where to now?”

“Tell you and take away the element of surprise? Never.” He walks us through the alley, and we pop out into insanity. Hordes of people in costumes, laughing, drinking, dancing, flood the streets. Macareus ignores the madness as he weaves us through the crowd before we detour down another hidden alley. Darkness strikes us once again until we pop out into a beautiful, secluded courtyard. The mood around us shifts. Gone is the craziness of the festival, leaving our surroundings more intimate. An overhanging canopy of lush greenery sets the scene, lit up by hanging lights. Tables litter the small area, covered in candles and table settings. Each table is at capacity, people eating and drinking. Not a single one pulls their attention from their table to acknowledge us.

“Just through here,” he says, entering a historic mansion. We climb the stairs to the roof.

The view is breathtaking, overlooking the city streets, the lingering of faint music and dancing bodies below whispering on the soft breeze. “It’s amazing,” I comment, admiring the beauty of this city, the history behind it. “I wish we were here longer. I’d love to

Вы читаете Wicked Love
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