He pulls back and keeps finger-fucking me as he attacks his belt and frees his cock.
The tip is already weeping and angry looking. Jared pushes back even further but slides his ass to the edge of the chair.
With one hard yank, he rips my panties away.
“I need you to take off that skirt andgrand pliéonto Daddy’s dick.Now. And I want those beautiful eyes on me when you do.”
My breath shuttles in and out of my lungs as I dispose of my skirt and brace my feet on either side of his thighs. The position isn’t quite as accurate but, eyes latched onto his, I slowly sink down onto his waiting shaft. Then keep going until I’m stuffed full.
“Fuuuuck.” Jared’s breath releases in a choppy rush and he slams his head against the back of his seat. “Didn’t think it was possible for this pussy to feel better around my dick, but hot damn, you do, angel. You really fucking do!”
His hands grip my waist and he starts to move me up and down his cock. His eyes roll back in his head and Jared looks like he’s in pain. The best pain.
I feel the same. I gasp and whimper and beg as his expert hands manage me and before long he’s roaring and I’m screaming as our climaxes hit.
* * *
The next weekpasses in a blur of dancing and fucking.
Jared has my things moved into his suite but he’s indiscriminate about where he fucks me.
The very first time Noelle’s wife Amelie walked in on us, I thought I’d die with embarrassment. But she barely blinked at finding me naked and sprawled across Jared’s lap, his hands toying with my breasts.
But watching them discuss some inane subject as if my nudity wasn’t an issue had…turned me on. My insatiable hunger for Jared whenever and wherever he wanted me had taken care of the rest.
During that week, I discover that he hasn’t gone below Penthouse Five in six years.
I also discover that the other two penthouses are decked out in different themes.
Penthouse Three is a luxury Aspen cabin, complete with bearskin rugs and monster wood-burning stoves. Penthouse Four is a Balinese spa retreat but is scheduled to be remodeled.
On Friday, we’re supposed to be walking through the space one last time before Jared gave instructions to his interior designer about his new ideas, but end up fucking in the steam pool.
“Don’t you miss the beach? Driving with the wind in your hair? Pretzels from a street vendor?” I ask, my body one giant puddle of goo sprawled on top of his next to the pool.
“I can have the beach brought to me. And I’ll pass on abusing my palate with junk food, thanks.”
“Pretzel isn’t junk food. It’s a holy institution.”
He rolls his eyes and I laugh. He pauses, then his teeth flash in a smile that has me blinking.
Jesus, he’s insanely gorgeous when he smiles. My heart is jumping around in my chest when he pulls me close and kisses me.
We part breathless but I see his gaze search mine for a few ticks before he goes back to caressing my back.
“Olsteen says you’re her best student. Tell me why you’re not dancing professionally.”
* * *
Jared
My unexpected questioncatches her on the raw and I feel her stiffen.
I wait her out and a minute later, the answer comes pouring out.
“I suffer from stage fright. It came out of nowhere when I was ten. My parents put me in therapy, but it didn’t take. When my mom left, Dad said she left because she was ashamed of me. That I’d let them both down because no matter how well I trained, I could never perform when the time came.”
I clench my jaw to stop from telling her the true reason her mother left. Jenny Michaels left because her husband was a serial adulterer who could never keep it in his pants long enough to even finish one affair before starting another.