I can’t say anything. She is enchanting, it’s true. My body responds to her like… like I want to pick her up by the waist and plant her on my cock. I want to screw her until she screams. I want to open her ass cheeks and…

“Is this okay?” she asks me quickly, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her fingers deftly work the buckle of my belt and then the button, dropping my trousers around my knees before I have a chance to answer. Then she pauses, looking up at me. She’s waiting for me to nod. She’s waiting for me to say y

es.

I nod.

At that, she plucks my dick from my boxer briefs, widening her eyes in delight. It’s true, I’m hung like a twenty-ounce Coke bottle, from the fat end. She uses both hands and smacks her lips before opening that beautiful mouth and letting that little tongue come out.

Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock, dousing it in thick spit that mixes with my pre-cum. I’m glossy, laminated.

Hanging onto the ledge behind me, I force myself not to start fucking her sweet little mouth. I want to knock her down and jackhammer that hole. I want it so bad that I…

“Fuck, yesssss. Unnnhn,” I groan, transported when her mouth closes around me. That sweet, hot mouth, sucking at the head, working the shaft. She arches her back so my balls dangle over her tits. After just a few seconds, I’m overwhelmed, unable to figure out how she’s doing what she’s doing. Her lips flutter and suck, her tongue slides along my sensitive slit.

“Come for me, Sully!” she says, her voice muffled by my big dick.

Jesus, I can’t help it. I unload into her sweet face, unleashing months of pent-up seed. She gags and chokes, but forces herself to suck it all down, swallow it, and then suck me dry the rest of the way. Even though I’m done coming, she is still sucking me, making sure that she’s gotten every last drop.

Knees weak, I crumple to the floor in front of her and finally get my arms around her. She folds up on my lap, nestling against my chest and crossing her arms behind my neck. Fighting to stay conscious, I just hold her for a long time, aware that she fits into a void I have that I was trying to ignore.

Chapter 11

Bunny

Everyone at the hotel is so damn nice. After breakfast with Sully, I head back to my room to relax for a little while and find two dozen pink roses and an American Express Black Card on my table. Underneath is a handwritten note:

Sorry we missed you this morning. Mr. Worth would like you to use this card to do a little shopping for yourself. Please come to the front desk if you would like an escort. Signed – Mrs. Webster.

Mrs. Webster… I wonder if that’s the woman that I saw when I first came in? The first one to call me Miss Bunny? I sort of like that. It sounds like I am the host of a children’s show.

And an American Express black card… Wow. They are not skimping.

Without a moment to waste, I dash for the elevators and down toward the lobby. As I cross the marble, I wave toward Mrs. Webster, somehow communicating that I don’t need an escort, and thank you, and good morning! From the way she smiles, I think she got all that.

Michigan Avenue is everything you think it’s going to be. And more. It’s just around the corner, so I don’t bother getting a taxi or anything. I just walk. The late morning sun is glorious, reflected a million times by all of the windows on all of the high-rises. Here and there are artifacts of old Chicago. The actual water tower from the actual Chicago fire? It’s not a tower. It’s a limestone building the kind of looks like a church. In the middle of all these buildings and pedestrians and everything else, it’s like a park. It just comes out of nowhere, reminding you that the city is actually pretty old.

The shops are amazing. Boutique after boutique, with designer name after designer name. I look through all the windows, urgently aware that there is a Black Card burning a hole to the bottom of my handbag. I really need to whip that puppy out and make it do its job.

“Now, what would make these guys lose their ever-loving minds?” I ask myself in front of a shop with handmade boots. Balenciaga, if I’m not mistaken.

Probably, not boots.

But I don’t have to decide. I walk around for as long as my feet are happy in the shoes, staring in windows, trying the ideas on as much as I am trying the clothes on.

Could this be my life? Shopping without limits? Shopping to find something to please and inspire my billionaire harem?

Holy cow. This could totally be my life!

I flip through the memories, one by one, biting back a smile when I see an older woman raise her eyebrows at me. Can she read my mind? Probably. I hear that I am very easy to read.

Every one of these brothers has been better than the last. Every one has offered me their beautiful—and they’re so beautiful!—cocks to taste. Everyone has looked at me like I might be good to eat. And then Trey actually did eat me and…

I gasp, stopping with my hand out for balance. The memory rushes through me, making my belly twang with longing.

It’s definitely not enough. I would have thought that five guys was too many, and now I am thinking five guys is going to be exactly the right amount. Just being around them makes me so horny I can barely control what I’m thinking. I sucked off Sully so hard this morning, I was afraid I was going to hurt him. But he didn’t seem to mind. That giant bear cock must need a lot of attention.

And how long has it been since they had someone? The way that Royce explains it, they’re not allowed to have anybody unless they can all have that somebody. I get the feeling that Brock and Trey try to find ways around that rule, but not on the regular. They’re all starving. They need somebody to really get them back on track. Sometimes they look at me like a pack of half-wild dogs, ready to eat me alive.


Tags: Jess Bentley Erotic