002

Rosalie's POV 

His muscular broad back was to me, covered in intricate tattoos that looked like a wolf.

Through the mirror, I could see his muscles flexing under tanned skin as his arm moved in slow deliberate strokes.

His big calloused hand wrapped around his big, veiny cock, long and hard, flushed dark around the tip. 

He stroked once, twice, head tipping backwards as another groan ripped out of his throat, rumbling through the quiet room.

The sound sent shockwaves of desire down my sensitive spine.

My gaze trained up his face. His eyes were shut, completely lost in the animalistic pleasure that famed his face.

I needed no soothsayer to tell me that he was twice my age. But damn! He was so hot.

He looked like some untamed Greek god— wide shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, and cut deep.

He was the breathtaking combination of predatory and ethereal. 

His curly black hair with scanty gray highlights fell over his face in a tousled mess like he'd been running his hands through it, framing his sharp cheekbones.

His sharp jaw shadowed by stubble looked like they were carved from rock. His nose was slightly crooked in that dangerously sexy way.

You just knew he broke his nose in a brutal fight. His lips were pulled tightly in pleasure, his brows drawn together in concentration. 

Every working brain cell I had was screaming it — leave, Rosalie, turn around and walk back up those stairs and pretend you saw absolutely nothing.

But my feet had developed opinions of their own and those opinions were apparently very interested in staying exactly where they were.

I didn't blink. I couldn't. I couldn't think. Hell! I couldn't even breathe.

I just stood there, my pulse racing as I watched as his chest rise and fall as he stroked harder, his body tensing up.

My pussy throbbed hard.

Maybe it was the alcohol but I've never been this turned on. I was ridiculously, shamelessly turned on.

I pressed my thighs tightly together to suppress my lust.

But it only intensified the fire. The skin between my legs burnt hot. 

My nipples were hard, straining against the towel. My pussy clenched. I felt hot liquid trickling down my legs. 

It wasn't pee. God I wished it was pee.

But no. I was freaking wet. No, I was soaked. Dripping. God! This wasn't me.

But I couldn't help it. 

All I could see was the way he held his cock. Fuck! I wanted to taste him. I had this sudden shameless urge to feel the heat of him on my skin.

I wanted to feel him buried deep inside me. I barely registered, shoving my towel up and slipping my fingers inside my core.

My cunt was wet, swollen and already aching. I sagged against the doorframe, biting hard into my lips as I thrust.

An involuntary whimper escaped my lips but I was quick enough to muffle the sound. I started stroking my core, slow at first, then faster, matching the rhythm of his movements.

I imagined myself under him, his rough hands wrapping around my neck, his long huge cock fucking my brains out.

He stroked harder, a guttural sound tearing through his throat as his face constricted with maddened pleasure and his body began to spasm.

I went faster, my vision blurring as sweet orgasm built.

"Fuck!" I blurted before I could stop myself.

His head whipped towards me.

My breath caught so sharply in my throat. I nearly dropped the bottle I was holding in my other hand.

Blood rushed to my face, humiliation creeping up my body as I withdrew my fingers from my pussy.

He watched my every movement, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk of fascination.

A dimple.

He had a cute dimple on his left cheeks. Boy! Who gave him the audacity to look this good?

But then I saw his eyes and my mind emptied.

For one fraction of a second — one blink, one stuttered heartbeat — I wanted to believe that I saw wrongly.

Because those eyes were yellow.

Not amber. Definitely not amber. They were exactly like a yellow paint on a wall.

Bright and feral and completely inhuman, blazing out of that impossibly handsome face like twin flames.

Then it was gone. Just like that. His eyes were a shade of midnight blue now. 

And honestly, I think I must have definitely imagined the yellow eyes. It was the alcohol.

His gaze slid to the doorway.

Then to me, his midnight blue eyes piercing through me like a laser beam.

"Who are you?" He asked in a rich British accent. I almost moaned at how sexy it sounded.

I Literally felt it in my knees, which was not a thing that had ever happened to me before in my twenty years of life.

Focus! Rosa. Goddamn it! I chided myself, pinching my skin to force myself to concentrate.

"Well, I'm —" I caught myself.

Wait a freaking minute!

I should be the one asking the question. 

"Who are you?" I enunciated every syllable firmly, even though I was quivering inside.

"What type of game are you playing?" He scoffed, seeming genuinely confused.

"Wasn't it my friends, Ben and Khalid who contacted your company to send you over here? Aren't you the escort they hired?" 

Realization hit me. He must be one of the friends of Emily's dad that she had mentioned about them staying over here occasionally.

Maybe the other friends hired a call girl for him and now he thinks it's me.

Now, how do I explain to Emily that I fingered myself while watching her dad's friend beat his sleek cock?

But my alcohol soaked brain couldn't care less now. I would be damned if I wanted to stop.

It was like I wasn't in control of my body at this point. Maybe this was what I really needed tonight. A mind-blowing sex to forget everything.

It was time to let loose. 

I took a deep breath as I watched him stalk towards me. His every step was heavy, slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine. 

But instead of cowering and running away like I would normally do, I took a step forward then another until I was standing mere inches away from him. 

And holy heavens! He was very tall— taller than I'd registered from the doorway, towering over me.

His cedar cologne and masculine scent invade my nostrils, tantalising my senses relentlessly. Upclose, something about him looked oddly familiar but I couldn't put a finger to what it was., 

His gaze trailed from my face in excruciatingly slow motion, to my lips, then my boobs, lingering for too long.

Then he suddenly frowned. "What's that bottle doing with you?" He took the bottle from me and placed it on the table.

"Are you aware that's an alcohol-based aphrodisiac?"

I gasped sharply.

What? Was that why I felt this hot and aroused.?

"You're really one wild and fearless vixen. You even kept me waiting for hours." His hot breath seared my skin as he took a sniff of my neck.

What the actual hell?

It took a while for me to process his words. I was too distracted by the corded muscles of his forearms, the sharp cut of his abs, the way his cock was still so stiff and—

I forced the thoughts off, bracing myself before meeting his gaze.

"I'm sure daddy likes his good girls with a little fire and spice."

OMG! I didn't just say that.

Nah, it definitely didn't come out of my mouth.

His eyes darkened with arousal and he let out a low growl, leaning so close I could feel the heat of his body on my skin. 

"Are you sure you can play my type of game, little firecracker?"

What's with the pet name? And damn! Why was everything a game to him?

But it wasn't a question. Neither was he planning to give me time to think about it.

He snagged at my wrist, pulling me flush against his chest and crashing his lips against mine.

The world stopped moving.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. He kissed me like his life depended on this moment, like he'd been waiting a long time to do this.

Drowning desires tugged at me with dangerous undercurrent as I tasted him, my tongue exploring his mouth as he did mine.

His hands grabbed my ass, squeezing hard as he deepened the kiss.

"You taste different, not like any other escort I've been with." He croaked against my lips. "And your scent...it makes me rock hard." 

The vibration of his voice scraped along my nerves endings, sending my internal temperature to a dangerous level.

I moaned so loud I couldn't believe it, rumbling my fingers through his hair.

And when he broke the kiss, I was gasping for air, my breath ragged. But he barely gave me time to catch my breath before whisking me off the ground.

He carried me in bridal style, leading me towards the bed. He eased me into the bed, yanking my towel off and exposing my nakedness to his hungry eyes.

"You're so breathtaking." He groaned. "You almost look too innocent to be an escort."

My breath hitched. Had he caught on?

But I couldn't let him stop now. The aphrodisiac was burning me up inside and I felt like I was about to explode if he didn't do something to me.

I looped my arms around his neck, pulling his rock hard chest against my soft pounds.

I squeezed my eyes shut at the feel of that.

Slowly, he moved lower and before I could process his next action, he buried his face between my thighs.

His tongue found my clue instantly, hot, wet, relentless. He licked in slow, broad strokes, then sucked hard on the swollen bud.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I squirmed on the bed, gasping, my hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling in his thick strands as he devoured me.

He bit down gently on my buds and I whimpered, legs quivering. He gripped my thighs, widening them as he thrusted his tongue deep into my core.

He ate me out like he'd never tasted anything sweeter, tongue fucking me senseless till my muscles started to contrast around his tongue.

"No, you can't cum yet, little vixen." He choked out, his voice trembling with want.

"It's been a long time since an escort made me want to—" the sound of his phone ringing cut him off.

He went still. Grabbed the phone from the nightstand and answered it.

"Yeah." He listened, and something dangerous shifted on his face. "The escort won't be able to make it?" 

Then a low, strange sound escaped him. Not quite a laugh. Colder than that. "And you're just telling me now?" 

"It's fine." 

He ended the call.

I didn't even know how he moved so fast. All I knew the next second was a gun being pointed at my head.

Blood drained from my face.

His eyes looked completely different now, feral like he was about to murder someone.

"If you're not the escort," he said, heat crackling through his voice, "then who the hell are you? And who gave you access to this house?"

I swallowed hard, terror gripping me.

I couldn't speak. It was like my throat had sealed shut.

"I'll give you ten seconds." He tilted his head. "Who sent you here?"

The gun didn't waver. His expression didn't waver. 

I just sat there, shuddering hard, knowing fully well that whatever I say next will change everything.