Chapter Two

[Vanessa's POV]

He breathed out heavily.

"Let's get this done," he said, rising from the leather couch.

"Hold on," I said, holding my hands up defensively. "You've got the wrong person. I'm not the escort you paid for."

I tried to clear up the misunderstanding, but he kept moving toward me, unbothered.

"Stay back!" I warned, taking several steps backward until my spine pressed hard against the locked wooden door. He didn't stop. Within seconds, he was towering right in front of me, trapping me completely in his space.

"I said—"

He pressed his thumb against my lips, cutting me off.

He pressed his thumb against my lips, cutting me off.

"Let's get to business. Shall we?"

I shook my head violently, opening my mouth to protest again. But my breath caught as he leaned down and shut me up with a kiss.

Every single thought in my head instantly vanished. My eyes fluttered shut, and without my permission, I found myself leaning into his lips. He let out a low chuckle against my mouth, but my brain was too foggy to care about the reason. My head spun wildly. Was this what kissing was supposed to feel like, or was the alcohol completely taking over?

He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, pulling me flushed against his chest. He paused for a fraction of a second before deepening the kiss, his pace turning fast and ruthless. I struggled to keep up with him. He bit lightly at my bottom lip, coaxing me to open up. The moment I obliged, his tongue parted my teeth, drawing a sharp moan from the back of my throat.

In one swift movement, he lifted me off my feet. I automatically wrapped my legs around his waist, holding on for dear life. My dress rode up my thighs, and from this position, I could feel the hard ridge of his bulge pressed directly against me.

He squeezed my thigh, his hand sliding higher up my dress. Snagging the edge of my lace panties, he pushed them aside and thrust two fingers directly inside me.

A loud moan escaped my lips. It felt overwhelming—and entirely too good.

"Perfectly tight," he muttered darkly against my mouth.

He began thrusting his fingers at a faster, relentless pace. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down my jaw, burying his face in the crook of my neck. He bit and sucked at my skin while his hand kept moving inside me, driving me out of my mind.

"Hmm... fa... ster," I managed to gasp out, barely able to form words.

Still moving inside me, he carried me a few paces before dropping me onto the large bed in the corner of the room. I bounced slightly against the mattress, startled.

"Did you just throw me?" I asked, a sudden flash of drunk offense washing over me.

"You're in no position to complain. Take off your panties," he commanded. His voice was laced with pure authority, yet instead of fighting back, I found myself doing exactly what he ordered. Blame it on the alcohol, again. He moved over the bed, hovering above me like a shadow.

"Spread your legs wider," he ordered.

Compelled by his voice, I complied. Feeling completely exposed and burning with embarrassment, I looked up facing the ceiling.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. My breath caught in my throat as his large hands gripped my inner thighs, pushing them even wider. Up until tonight, my knowledge of men had been entirely imaginative, but feeling his hot breath against my bare skin sent a fresh jolt of nervous heat straight to my core.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low, raspy growl. I forced my eyes down to meet his. He didn't hesitate. Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth directly against my slick entrance, dipping his tongue deep inside me in one smooth stroke.

My back arched off the bed as a sharp, gasp tore from my throat. My hands instinctively reached out, my fingers tangling into his dark, thick hair.

He let out a low rumble of satisfaction against my skin. His hands clamped tightly around my hips, holding me still while his tongue worked with a slow, ruthless precision. He swirled around my sensitive center, drawing a high, desperate whine from my lips. Every flick of his tongue sent a wave of overwhelming pleasure straight to my tummy making me feel hot despite the air conditioner.

"You're soaking wet for a stranger," he muttered darkly against me, his breath hot and heavy, before swirling his tongue right back over my sweet spot.

He increased the pace, his fingers digging into my thighs to life my waist higher as my body began to tremble uncontrollably. The intensity was just too much.

"Please—" I whimpered, not even knowing what I was begging for.

He used his thumb to part me further, taking my sensitive core between his lips and sucking firmly. Then he added his fingers making the pleasure unbearable. A loud moan shattered the quiet room as a powerful, body-racking orgasm crashed over me, my inner muscles clenching wildly around his fingers.

As the waves of pleasure toned a bit, I lay on the mattress panting, completely exhausted. He did the work but I was the one exhausted.

He slowly rose from his position, he looked me straight in the eyes while licking his fingers and his lips. I looked away already blushing from embarrassment. How could he be so shameless?

Anyways that enough for tonight. Got to leave.

"So I'm going to go now." I said as I stood up and began wearing my pants backing him. But of course that was my mistake.