“Not yet,” he tells me firmly, letting go of my wrist and taking a step backward. “You’ll have to earn that.”
I lick my lips, anxious to do whatever’s necessary to earn it. I still can’t believe I’m letting him act like this, dominating me as if I were nothing more than a naive innocent girl … But he’s so damn intoxicating. And I’m not just talking about his good looks; no, it goes deeper than that. One hard look into his eyes is enough to realize that Arsen Hawke is more than just a man; he’s almost from a completely different breed. Standing here, in the presence of a man who seems so perfect it’s almost unbelievable, what else can I do than obey every single one of his words? Sure, I won’t let him push me around forever … but my body demands me to do it right now. I can’t help but submit.
Arsen takes another step back and loosens his tie, opening the top button of his shirt as his eyes wander all over my body. I feel him devouring every single inch of naked skin in me, and I know he’s aching for more.
“Turn around,” he tells me, his voice leaving no room for hesitation. The moment his words caress my eardrums, I’m turning on my heels, my back to him as my heart thumps louder against my chest. “Your dress, take it off. Slowly.”
I take one deep breath, moving my hands to my shoulders and pushing the straps of my dress down my arms. I feel the fabric drooping over my breasts, and I pull on it until my dress is hanging around my waist. Hooking my fingers on it, I sway my hips from side to side, slowly letting the fabric fall down my legs into a heap at my feet.
His shoes click across the floor as he takes one step toward me; I fight against all of my urges and remain in place, every fiber in my body screaming for me to turn around and face him. I feel his fingertips over the dimples in my lower back, and then he runs them all the way up to my shoulder blades; he moves his fingers across the edge of my bra, stopping only to undo the clasp there. He does it with one single movement, the cups drooping over my breasts.
I half-expect him to pull the straps down my shoulders, but instead he takes one step back. “Take it off,” he commands me, my arms moving by themselves in response. I push the straps down my arms, and then I let the bra fall down to the floor, right on top of my dress. My nipples are hard, almost desperate to feel his fingers, mouth, and skin on them.
For a long second, he says nothing. I close my eyes as I feel him appreciating my body, the air around both of us becoming heavier and charged with electricity. I can almost feel the desperate need he has to see me taking my thong off, and still he waits, letting the fire of anticipation rage in both of our bodies.
“You look so fucking perfect,” he says, moving fast toward me and pressing his body against mine. My hands go to the wall and I unconsciously jut my ass back at him, my rear pressed tight against his crotch. I sigh deeply as I feel his thick shape straining against his pants, pulsing with desire and lust. He laces my waist, pressing his forearm over my stomach as he pulls me into him, bucking his hips at me at the same time. He’s thick and long, probably the biggest I have ever felt… And let me tell you, when you work in a strip club you get to feel a lot of cocks.
I sway my hips from side to side, the bulging in his pants pushing against my ass cheeks as I move. Arsen runs his free hand up and down my side, his long fingers only stopping when they meet the small string of fabric that delineates my thigh—he hooks them there, on my thong, and pulls viciously. Just one pull and he tears my thong apart, the fabric sliding off my body in such a hurried way that I can’t help but gasp.
His lips are on my neck as I grind my ass against his cock, everything in me burning with a frantic desire to get him out of his clothes. I reach behind my back, wanting to place my hand over his crotch, but once again he grabs my wrist, pinning my whole arm behind my back.
“You want it that much?” He asks me while I try and fight back against the hold he has on me. It’s impossible: he’s simply too strong.
“I do,” I respond, leaning forward and pressing my forehead against the wall, as my breathing grows heavier. The moment the words leave my lips, he lets go of me. He takes two steps back, the absence of his body on mine almost too painful to endure. R
eacting on instinct, I turn on my heels, my feet making me follow after him.
“Stop,” he says firmly, and I stop dead in my tracks. We’re just a few inches away, and that is almost enough to drive me insane—to know that I could just reach for his shirt and start peeling it off of him … “On your knees,” he continues, my body once again responding without his commands having to be filtered by my brain. I don’t know what it is about him, but the moment he speaks, I do it. As soon as my knees touch the floor, my heart is pounding hard again, my eyes glued to the thick shape straining against his pants. “How bad do you want it?”
“I want it bad,” I say, my voice quivering as he starts to unbuckle his belt. I can’t even blink, my eyes glued to what’s happening in front of me. With slow teasing movements he takes the belt out from his pants and throws it on the floor; his fingers then go back to his crotch, unbuttoning it with deliberate and maddening patience. Each buttons he undoes, my heart kicks and punches harder against my ribcage … And with each button he pops out, his cock strains harder against his boxer briefs.
“Then have it,” Arsen says, reaching for my hair and yanking my head back. He leans down toward me and presses his mouth against mine, our kiss one of wildness and frenzied lust. When he stands up again, my hands are moving toward his crotch; I hook my fingers on the side of his pants and slowly pull them down to his knees. My fingers go up his legs and over his underwear, but never touching his cock. I want to touch it more than anything, but I want to make him feel the poison of anticipation in his veins.
I let my fingers move up and down—up to his waist and then down to the hem of his boxers. I do it over and over again, never taking my eyes off of his thick shape, seeing it pulse more harshly every time my fingers go near it. Then, unable to put it off any longer, I flatten the palm of my hand against his bulging. I bite my lower lip as I feel him under my hand, his cock so big my insides clench. Is he going to fit inside me? Is it going to hurt?
Leaning forward, I close my eyes and tilt my head sideways. I part my lips slightly and rest them against the shape of his cock, sucking on it over the fabric of his boxers. It pulses against me, eager to be set free and unleashed upon my body. Oh, I yield to its wishes pretty easily: hooking my fingers on his boxer briefs, I pull them down, his cock springing free in a heartbeat. As I lay eyes on it, I feel my heart tight inside my chest. To feel it is one thing, but to see it… God, he’s huge—and absolutely perfect.
I run my fingers over his groins and, my heart drumming so fast it might burst any moment now, I rest my index finger over his shaft. As slowly as I can, I slide it up from his root to the glans, then move it back down again; stretching my fingers wide, I cup his balls, feeling their weight with the palm of my hand. I roll them over my hand, their warmness spreading to my fingers, hand and arms, and filling me with uncontrollable desire.
The moment I realize what I’m doing, I’m already leaning forward, my fingers curling around his shaft and pointing it straight to my mouth. I part my lips and rest them over his glans, scooping up his pre-cum with the tip of my tongue and letting his salty flavor inundate me.
His hands are on my head, but he’s just feeling the gentle sway of my body, letting me follow my own rhythm. I lap at his glans with my tongue, running it in slow circles around his tip as I start moving my hand back and forth, his pulsing thickness feeling alive under my fingers.
Moving my head sideways, I run my tongue from his tip to the root, licking the whole length of his shaft as I look up at him. The moment we lock eyes, I feel my pussy clenching—something primal and wild roars inside of me, and I know that in a few heartbeats I’ll be completely out of control.
I open my mouth wide and, leaning forward, wrap my lips tightly around his tip; I keep moving forward, his shaft rolling over my lips and tongue as he slides deep inside of my mouth. I feel it pushing down on my tongue and straining against my cheeks but I keep going. I only stop when I feel his tip at the back of my throat, my mouth completely filled with his cock.
I start bobbing my head, moving it back and forth over his cock. Going from his tip to the base, I start to go as fast as I can, cupping his balls with one hand. With my free hand I grab his shaft and, moving it in tandem with my mouth, I start to stroke him. Suddenly, I feel his fingers hooking themselves in my hair and he forces me stop. I look up at him, his cock still inside my mouth, and he simply grins. Deviousness flickering in his eyes, he starts to thrust, making his cock slide in and out of my mouth at a growing pace. It doesn’t take long for him to be moving so fast I have to open my mouth as wide as I can, his cock fucking me relentlessly. Closing my eyes as his shaft flies in and out of me, I can’t help but wonder how it’s going to feel when he’s doing this to my pussy.
Still holding my head in place, he rests his free hand on my shoulder and lets it fall down to my breasts. Easing down his rhythm, he runs his fingers over the curve of my right breast and circles my hard nipple carefully. Then, the moment he pulls his cock out of my mouth, he pinches my nipple between his thumb and index finger; I gasp, my insides clenching as my hand starts moving again, stroking him as fast as I can.
Electricity spreading across my body from the pressure he’s applying on my nipple, I lunge forward, my parted lips resting against his shaft. I lick his cock sideways, running my lips and tongue over his length and going down to his balls; there, I open my mouth and suck one in, rolling it around inside me as I keep on stroking him furiously. Looking up at him, I can’t help but feel victorious delight from seeing him with his eyes closed, head slightly thrown back in ecstasy. He might know how to drive women completely insane, but I’m not a woman anyone should underestimate. After all, I was the reason thousands of men lied to their wives and went to the strip club to spend their hard-earned cash.
Suddenly, Arsen yanks on my hair and forces my head back, my eyes locking on his. He’s breathing hard, the corner of his lips turning upward. “Stand up,” he tells me. Reluctantly, I let go of his cock and go up to my feet.
I don’t even have enough time to think about what’s happening: he’s on me in an instant, his body pressed tightly against mine. He pins me against the wall, one hand cupping my left breast while the other grabs one buttock. I throw my head back, his lips on my neck; he nibbles my skin there gently, going all the way from my neck to my lips. We kiss in abandonment, my anxious hands darting to his collar.
I start unbuttoning his shirt, my trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons on their way down. His hard pectorals brush against my knuckles and, the moment the last button pops out, I run both my hands from his stomach to his chest, feeling every hill and ridge of his muscles. From his perfectly carved abdominals to the ropes of muscles in his arms, everything in him seems designed with only one objective in mind: perfection. See those male models that often don the covers of magazines? Yeah, they don’t hold a candle to Arsen’s body. In fact, perfect is a poor word to describe him.