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I took off the rest of my clothes and went to the vanity to grab a ponytail holder; wet hair was not a great look on me. At least, not one I’d want to preserve on film. I pulled together a high ponytail and slipped into the water to join El-Mudad, who had already eased himself in.

He grimaced. “How can you stand this? It’s like I’m being boiled alive.”

“You like hot tubs,” I reminded him. “You love them!”

“I have never been in a hot tub this hot. I’m sweating already.” He shook his head. “Why are women like this?”

“Some women aren’t. Hot baths give you varicose veins, so I know a lot of women who deny themselves the pleasure.” I tossed my head loftily at my proclamation, as if I hadn’t been obsessing over the vein in my thigh for months. “I refuse to sacrifice comfort for beauty.”

“In this,” El-Mudad corrected me. “I’ve seen your shoe collection. You’re lying if you say any of those are comfortable.”

He had a point. Mom had been warning me for a while that I would need a knee replacement by the time I was forty if I didn’t stop wearing six-inch stilettos all the time.

The tub was amazingly deep. The surface of the water lapped around my thighs as I reached up to hit record on the camera. “Are you ready?”

El-Mudad waved his hand. “In your own time.”

I tapped the screen and waited to make sure it was rolling before I lowered myself into the water and settled against El-Mudad, lying between his legs.

“Are we recording?” he double-checked.

“We are.”

He raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the tub jets, and his voice echoed a little off the marble. “Hello, Neil! Sophie thought it would be a good idea to show you what you missed in Venice.”

“Yeah. I figured you’ve seen all the sights before, so there was no sense in making you a slideshow. This will be a little more interesting,” I darted my tongue out like the brat I was.

El-Mudad reached beneath my arms to cup my breasts, his wet thumbs circling my nipples. “We know how much you love watching me enjoy Sophie. Now I have her all to myself.”

Oh, that was good. Preying on Neil’s jealousy would turn this into a fetish video for him.

I moaned. It was a little exaggerated, but El-Mudad’s hands on me felt really, really good, so it wasn’t like I was faking.

“I think I’ll spank her,” he said into the camera. The talking directly about me while I was right there turned me way, way on. “What do you say, Sophie?”

“Yes, please!” I clapped my hands.

“Stand up. Show him that beautiful ass.”

I did have a great ass. It was maybe the one body part I wasn’t critical of.

Standing, I turned to face El-Mudad. He wasted no time, gripping my butt to pull me forward. He slapped both hands across my wet skin, hard, and I jumped with a yelp. Wet skin always hurt more.

“Look at that, Sophie.” He told me, nodding over my shoulder. I looked behind me. The view on the phone screen would be incredible for Neil, and the shine of the water off my skin was incredible in the light of the overhead sunlamp.

“If only you were here,” El-Mudad continued to Neil, his fingers dipping between my cheeks. “It would be so fun to fuck her tight ass while you choked her on your cock.”

My thighs trembled at the image he painted with his dirty talk.

“Would you like that, Sophie?” he asked, gliding his fingertips up, then down again to really reach my pussy.

“I would,” I agreed, then sighed in dramatic disappointment. “But he decided on a sexless weekend in the woods.”

El-Mudad pulled me forward so that my breasts were level with his mouth. His erection bobbed between us, so hard I was tempted to climb into his lap immediately. Sucking my nipple into his mouth, he alternated soft bites with gentle taps of his tongue. His hand lifted from my ass to scoop up more water to splash my lower back. It ran down, freshly wetting me for another spanking, this one so hard the sound rang off the marble walls.

I gasped and used my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. He repeated the careful application of water and burning slap again, and my nails dug into his skin.

He lifted his head and met my eyes. “I want to leave marks. May I?”

I considered. “Well...since we don’t have to fly home tomorrow.”

He grinned and spanked me again, but this time, it wasn’t just one. It was over and over and over, concentrated in one spot. I squeezed my eyes shut and cried out at the pain, and he implored gently, “Look at me. I want to look into your eyes while you feel it.”


Tags: Abigail Barnette The Boss Billionaire Romance