Chapter Thirteen

Stuart

My cock is throbbing like it’s going to break. Of all my wildest dreams, I never imagined that I could open Rose up, like my own little rosebud, right here in the middle of the Mystique Island mansion foyer. She’s a different woman when she’s with me. Unpredictable. Submissive, yet wild. Insatiable. And kinky.

“You passed that test with flying colors,” I breathe against her ear. My hand is still shoved in her panties, drenched. I love it. “Want to see how far we can take it?”

“Yes,” Rose answers without hesitation, and my cock squeezes for her.

“Then go down on me,” I rumble at her.

“No,” Rose answers, and my eyes bulge. My jaw clenches a little bit. She’s... never said no to me. And I’ve never said no to her. Jesus Christ, we just can’t do it. “Not here.” A little smile tickles at the corners of her lips. “I want you comfortably seated. Like a king on his throne.”

My jaw goes slack now. She’s the perfect woman. She has to marry me.

“Okay,” I rasp, already fantasizing how her wet mouth will stroke on my pole. Fuck, yes.

We silently hunt for a room with an open, comfortable chair, discovering an unmanned Papasan in a room with several other people in it, all drinking and speaking loudly to one another. Four of the five women in the room, six now, counting Rose, are totally nude.

I slither to the back of the room, nodding my greetings to everyone in the room. None of them know who I am, and I don’t know who any of them are, and I like it that way. They don’t have to pretend to be interested in my business, and I don’t have to pretend to be interested in theirs. We still talk but only about the things that really matter.

I peel down my pants in front of them, brandishing my rigid cock for Rose, who seemed totally on board a minute ago.

Now her eyes flick down, and then around. She’d better not be about to blush. Not when it’s my turn to ride.

“Come on,” I whisper up to her. “Let me show you off.”

Those seem to be the magic words, and she grins, still beautiful in that delicate and strange mask. She bows down between my legs and takes me fully into her mouth, working her way down to my base. It almost is like she’s consciously performing for them, and I bury my fingers in her hair, losing myself in her, forgetting the other people in the room.

She glares up at me. She’s fingering herself with the hand that bears my diamond ring. So hot. Her eyes close as she descends my shaft again, all the way to the base, mother of God. I let out an involuntary groan and attract the attention of several patrons.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s hot,” one of the naked women says, and I see her go for her own cunt immediately. Jesus, this place is intense.

“If you want to see someone,” I pant at them, “let me show you this girl.”

I dig my fingers into her wheat-colored hair and drag her off of my member, which is almost purple right now, I want to release so bad. But the narcissist in me wants to show Rose off. I’ve never seen a more beautiful orgasm in my life. She’s like an angel.

I stand and drag foggy-eyed Rose onto the Papasan instead. She’s half-hypnotized with all the sex and the intensity of our surroundings. One of the men in the room slides into one of the women and starts pounding but she’s also obedient. She bends naturally to my body’s slightest gestures, and that makes me hard as fuck. She’s mine.

I rake her skirt up and pull it over my head, enjoying being trapped in this gauzy heaven with her wetness. I hook my finger into her panties and peel them off. I don’t think she’d have been loose enough to let me do this even just ten minutes ago but one intense orgasm will do that for you. Now everyone at the party will be able to see her ass and her pussy. What will two intense orgasms do to her?

I shove her bra off of her tits and roll her nipples between my fingers. I want to get those babies nice and hard, then let the room get a look at them.

I spread her legs far and palm her pussy in my hand, opening it upward to completely expose every nook and cranny of her little button. I know to ruthlessly attack that little bastard. I dive on her pearl and get to work, relishing how exposed her pleasure is, how she must confront what I do to her. How I make her lose control and become my sex slave.

“Oh, god, look at her,” I hear one of the partygoers murmur. “She’s trying not to come but she’s going to. She’s coming so fast, Lord help her. What a fun problem to have.”

And they are right... Her sensitive nub drags her into orgasms almost against her will, far too quickly in foreplay compared to most women. Of course, what is “too quickly,” anyway, if you can have multiple? What if I try to max out this little button? Will I win, or will the nub?

Her body bucks at me, steeling itself against orgasm, but her thighs quake and the honey unleashes itself from inside her. I lap it up with gratitude, relishing her slit, and come out from the veil of her skirt.

God, she’s beautiful. She’s damn dewy, her youth so clear in her face. It isn’t just youth but something else, something like hope or goodness, a dreamy quality that’s pure soul. Her hair is everywhere, bright gold in wild snarls clustered around her face. She could be on Maxim but you can’t find women like this in Hollywood. Unspoiled. Real.

My chest tightens, and it dawns on me that I want to be up to my balls inside her, getting squeezed down every inch but I want to do it alone. I want to do it making eye contact and telling her that I’m in love with her. She’s everything that I dreamed she would be, and then, just a little bit sweeter.

I creep up between Rose’s thighs, still kind of quivering, and I whisper to her, “Hey, do you want to get out of here? Let’s stop and say hey to Leo... but then we can split. Maybe come back later.”

“Seriously?” She still sounds dopey, almost half-asleep. It’s those orgasms doing it to her but I have just the thing to wake her up.

“Come with me,” I whisper, standing and taking her hand, pulling her through the room. Her bra and panties are gone now, discarded on the Papasan, but neither of us notice. I can’t keep my hands off of her, and we don’t make it out of the Christmas ball but we do crash into an alcove where I can slide inside of her raw, as God intended. Holy fuck, I want to procreate with this woman. I want to have a little league team with her.

I shudder, and my eyes roll as I slam my full length into her and our eyes meet. There’s excruciating pleasure between us and I throb and break, unable to stop thrusting as every last drop spews.

“Oh, my god,” I huff against her salty neck, rolling my tongue over its creamy curve. Even the sweat is vanilla. Vanilla and clove... Perhaps the clove is my musk, and our scent together drives me wild. She has to be my wife. She has to. “Oh, my god, baby. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Rose sighs, limp as a noodle in my arms. “Fuck.”