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"Yeah, I really want to know."

He shifts his weight on the edge of the seat, and when he leans forward this time, I don't back off. "I'm thinking I would very much like to see you come," he says into my ear. My mind doesn't register the full impact of his words right away. But my body does. "Anything against that, Jessica?" he whispers, his hand trailing up and down my inner thigh.

"N-no," I say in a low voice. So low that I hope he hasn't heard me. But he has. There's no other explanation to why his hand has already found its way under my dress.

"Turn around and spread your legs," he commands.

"Parker," I mumble, "not here . . ."

"No one can see us, and Dani won't come back soon. Turn around."

Despite knowing I shouldn't, I turn around. My body no longer seems to listen to any commands of mine. I lean my back against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder, my forehead touching the base of his neck. I look into the room, trying to gauge what those in the boxes opposite us can see. But I can barely see anything in the back row of the boxes directly in front of us. There's no reason to believe anyone could see us from there. Anyone looking from above won't have a clear view of the back row either.

"Spread your legs," he repeats, his tone more authoritative than before. It sends another wave of heat through me. Burying myself in his neck, I open up for him. He doesn't touch me right away. He takes his time, trailing his fingers on the inside of my thigh, inciting a deep hunger in my core that grows with each inch of my skin he touches until I drop any pretense of shame and beg him, "Parker . . ."

When his fingers touch my intimate spot over my panties, I stiffen against him.

"You're soaked," he says, and I take immense pleasure in the slight tremble in his voice. Then his fingers start rubbing me slowly, and I dig my own fingers in the cushion of the chair as a spasm wracks through me.

This man will make me come.

Here, surrounded by people and plush velvet-covered seats.

When he stops, I let out a shaky breath and quiver in anticipation because I know what will follow. He will slide his hand under my panties, touching me—really touching me. I bite my lip, hoping I will be able to stifle any sound. I close my eyes as I feel him free the light cotton from my skin, his fingers stroking me right where I need them to.

"God, your pussy is so wet," he growls.

In that precise moment, I lose it and moan.

"You like it don't you?" he asks, sliding one finger inside me. "For me to talk dirty."

"Yes," I breathe, ashamed and bewildered

at the same time. I had no idea I liked this kind of play.

"Good."

He starts moving his finger inside me with slow, rhythmic moves that drive me crazy.

"Do you want me to slide another finger inside you?"

I fiddle against his neck, so that when I speak, he can feel every word and breath against his skin. "Yes, I want you to. I need you to."

He groans, the reverberations in his throat more of a turn on than anything else—fingers and words included. I fiddle with my hands behind my back until I finally find his belt, but when I try to undo it, he jerks away.

"No," he says. "This is for you."

"What do you mean?"

"It means I will slide another finger inside you. And I want you to enjoy it. Anything against that?"

"No," I breathe. "By all means, proceed."

He laughs softly in my ear, then slides another finger in. For a few seconds, he stops any movement, letting me accommodate, and then gently pulls his fingers out. When he thrusts them back inside, he does it hard. Again and again, he thrusts them inside me, his palm pressing on my clit, sending violent shivers through me. I dig my fingers in my thighs, fighting to express my pleasure in nothing more than heavy breaths. No one might be able to see us, but I don't want to risk being heard. Parker places kisses on my shoulder and the part of my neck exposed to him. Soft and gentle kisses, contrasting beautifully with the brutal moves inside me.

"Oh God, Parker," I say, looking for something, anything that I can bite to keep the entire hall from hearing my cry of relief. As I twist in my search, I meet Parker's lips. Or maybe he meets mine, I don't know . . . but my shattering orgasm finds me entangled with him in a fierce kiss.

Afterward, he keeps me against him in a tight half embrace.


Tags: Layla Hagen Lost Erotic